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#second of all. I do not have a counter argument to that. BUT I STILL DONT THINK ITS DEPRESSION OK
mokulule · 2 days
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Dead on MAYn Day 1 - still untitled.
Prompts used: Dinner interrupted by a rogue/gang fight, courting rituals.
This thing keeps growing so I figured I should just post the first part. It will be continued eventually it’s kinda going places I didn’t expect. I am also using the flickering prompt, but it doesn’t appear in this first part.
Danny dug into his burger with gusto. It was not Nasty Burger, but it was greasy and cheesy and juicy and definitely hit the spot after a whole day walking about Gotham taking in the supernatural sights.
Sam was entirely less impressed with the vegetarian option and had set it down with a grimace and was now just picking at her fries. Tucker had taken it as a personal win for the Meat Team™ and was lording it over her with his eyebrows - thankfully he was too busy eating to actually say anything, which Danny was very glad of. You could only hear the same arguments so many times. At least age and maturity had assured they didn’t end their friendship over it.
“So,” Sam said, “What’s next after this?”

Danny finished chewing his mouthful, before speaking. “I’m not sure, I figured just go back to the hotel for a bit, chill until nightfall? Gotham’s court won’t be in session until then.”
“Seconded. My feet hurt,” Tucker chimed in.

“Maybe if you didn’t spend all your day sitting in front of a screen all day-”

And they were at it again… Danny tuned them out with the practice of years of being on the sideline, humming in agreement when prompted. He loved his friends dearly, but arguing was a part of their love language that he didn’t feel like participating in.
He let his eyes wander around the small diner, and found himself frowning as a group of men hurried inside.
If Danny had been less used to his ghost sense warning him of trouble, maybe he would have reacted in time - or at all. As it was he found himself frozen in shock when he saw the guns - regular human guns, not ecto-guns, ecto-guns he knew how to react to.
It was strange to realize that nobody had ever pointed a normal gun at him before and someone was pointing a gun at him right now - of course it would be in Gotham he got that experience.
“Hey you, stand up slowly and get over here. Hands where I can see them.”
Oh.
Danny’s brain suddenly caught up to the events.
A group of five armed men had entered the diner waving guns. Three kept their eyes on the door and windows as if they expected someone to follow them. One was moving behind the counter towards the back, maybe looking for the waitress who had skedaddled as soon as the armed men entered and the last one had his gun trained on Danny, who of all people in the diner he’d figured was the best option for a hostage.

Danny resisted the urge to laugh.
Slowly he did as bidden, raising his hands and standing up.
On the surface he wasn’t an unreasonable choice. He was short and lean, if he was completely honest he looked like a stiff wind could blow him over. Sam in contrast looked like trouble and Tucker had grown up annoyingly tall, and if Gotham police was like most places it was probably wiser to pick a white boy as hostage anyways. The rest of the people in the diner were two heavy set construction workers and a lady with arms broader than Danny’s thighs, like damn. 

So yeah, Danny was apparently the best choice. 

Regretfully, he left his dinner to cool on its plate as he took carefully measured steps towards the… what? Mobster? Gang person? 

A part of him was wondering how much a gunshot could hurt him. Would it hurt him? In human form probably, as long as he was tangible. Would it kill him the rest of the way? He wasn’t particularly keen to find out.
His eyes flickered to the other armed men when one of them hissed at the guy at the door. “Do you see him?”

Danny considered doing something for about three steps, but he wasn’t experienced enough with real guns and fighting humans that he thought he could risk it. He’d also prefer to fly under the radar while he was here. He was on vacation, not here to mess with anyone.
There was a familiar feeling in his throat, wanting to be let go. His head snapped towards the kitchen. What! That couldn’t be right?

The man grabbed him and put the gun to his head just as a crash sounded from the kitchen and the wisp of cold breath escaped his mouth. Everyone turned towards the noise. The man who held him tightened his hold and pushed the gun so hard against his head he had to tilt it. 

Something black came flying out the door and the jumpy gunmen shot at it, but with their attention on the object (a pan, it was just a pan) they didn’t notice the man who followed behind. He was fast, not much more than a red brown blur, shooting the furthest man in the arm so he dropped the gun and then coming in close, punching the first man and kicked the next in the belly. He moved so smoothly, effortlessly. 

Danny forgot to breathe. Because that there was the source of his ghost sense. Because that there was also a human.
Another halfa.

Here in Gotham of all places! 

His heart gave a hard thump in his chest and he gasped, remembered breathing was a thing he sorta needed as a human. He still couldn’t take his eyes off the other halfa. Now there was someone who knew how to fight. His core hummed pleasurably in his chest. The other halfa had taken care of those goons in less than ten seconds. The fourth one was probably dealt with in the kitchen. And the fifth-

Danny was abruptly reminded of how the fifth had a gun to his head, as he annoyingly poked him with that barrel and pulled him backwards towards the door.
“Not another step or he gets it!”
Danny grimaced. He finds another halfa and he’s a fucking hostage? Stellar first impression, right there! Someone please shoot him- or wait, considering the situation that was probably not the wisest turn of phrase. 

“How about you let the civilian go, and I won’t break your kneecaps.” The voice was menacing though clearly modulated and there was a delightful, almost cheerful undertone.
Now that he was standing still, Danny could better appreciate him. He was a big man, probably near a head taller than Danny and so much wider. Death had clearly not stopped him from putting on muscle. Normally Danny might have been jealous, but honestly he was too busy appreciating the other halfa. 

He was wearing a red helmet, faceless except for a pair of glaring eyes and he had a large bat symbol across his chest. This last bit should put Danny off. There were very good reasons Danny didn’t want to catch any attention here. He couldn’t think of them right now. But there were… reasons… yes… and thighs walking towards him-

“I swear I will shoot!”

Oh for fuck’s sake! There were too many people involved. Danny promptly stepped down on his captor’s instep, ducked and twisted out of his hold. 

Red Hood, because that was his name, Danny suddenly remembered, promptly shot the gun out of the man’s hold and took him down with a punch and a crunching kick to the right knee. 

Shit, Danny was jealous, not of the broken kneecap of course, but he also wanted to throw down. He could show the other halfa what he could do, make friends, or more? Would it be too forward to gift him one of his moon rocks?

It probably was too forward? This was the first halfa he met who wasn’t a fruit loop or related to him. At least he hoped he wasn’t a fruit loop.
“Are you alright?”
Danny shook himself out of his thoughts to find that he’d been approached.
Now that he was up close Danny could really appreciate how those arms looked strong enough to bend him in half and- Danny’s gaze stopped at his waist. Was he actually wearing a leather corset? It did great things for his-
“That was either brave or stupid.”
The words had Danny’s eyes snapping back up to the glaring helmet. Danny was frozen. How was he supposed to talk to him? His mind reeled. Do something! Anything!
“How’s this for stupid?” Danny blurted and promptly punched him in the gut with a good deal of ghostly strength. Red Hood bent over with a pained oof.
Fuck! Danny’s brain screamed at him in despair. He could not believe he’d done that! Glancing around he couldn’t find Sam or Tucker so he quickly ran out the diner. 

He was grabbing for his phone in his pocket while running, when he was pulled into an alley. He was so wound up he nearly threw another punch, but then he realized it was just Sam and Tucker.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Danny!” They spoke in eerie unison. Tucker snorted, but Sam continued, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Danny shook his head, realizing he must look a little dazed. He felt a little dazed. He didn’t even feel like taking the obvious bait.
“I punched Red Hood,” he admitted.
“What!” There they went again I unison, almost as if they practiced it.
“Do you think he’d like a moon rock?”
The looks they sent him then, they were indescribable. Absently he padded his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t grown a second head.
“Are you sick, Danny? Was there something in the food?” Sam put her hand on his forehead checking his temperature, even as she looked at Tucker, “What are the chances there’d be blood blossoms in a random burger?”

“Extremely unlikely, more likely something new, never seen Danny react like this.”
Danny grumpily pushed Sam’s hand away. “The food was fine. I’m fine.”

They gave him twin dubious looks.
“Look, let’s just go back to the hotel room. I just need a little rest and I’ll be fine.”

-
Jason gasped in pain to the sound of laughter in his comms. What the Hell was in that guy’s food that he could throw such a punch?
“What did he did the little guy do, Hood? Kick you in the jewels?” Dick managed to ask through laughter.
They didn’t have visuals, small mercies, but Oracle the traitor had let on to the former hostage’s scrappy stature in the run down of the situation.
“He did not.” Jason growled and turned off the comms, done listening to those idiots. Shit, fuck. Definitely a meta, that had been super strength. Keeping one hand over his pained abdomen he walked over to kick the goon who had decided to crawl for his gun in Red Hood’s apparent distraction.
“Don’t even think about it, I am not in the mood for it,” he growled and the goon whimpered.
When he finished securing the goons, of course the meta was long gone. Jason sighed in annoyance. Just his luck.
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yiiyiiwrites · 2 days
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JJ x Baker Pogue
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Summary: JJ trying to look out for baker Pogue, that sells pot brownies. Mentions of Barry and their deal. From this [prompt] angst
The wind whipped through the small trailer, sending a shiver down your spine. You didn't know if it was from the cool summer breeze or the confined space that JJ filled between the kitchen counters and the front door.
You're both sweaty, the oven timer beeping as you stare up at JJ. It was only a second ago that you’d slapped his chest with the oven mitt. The arguments you had lately always finding its way back to Barry.
JJ presses the alarm and turns it off, arms caging you against the counter. “Look if I’m telling you it’s crazy, you gotta listen.” You can feel his hot breath fanning against the side of your face, fingers gliding along the worktop to rest on your hip.
“What you want me to be like Kie? Save the planet.” You shove him away and spin round to open the oven. The heat hitting you as you pulled out the large baking tray and set it down to cool on the side.
He slams the oven shut, grabbing the hem of your apron to bring you back to him. “You always throwing that in my face.” He pushes you away as quick as he pulled you in, fist slamming on the counter.
The constant push and pull, the same dance you’ve been performing for weeks. Unsure of how to find a peaceful flow, so that you can both exist whilst going your own ways.
“You know more than anyone J, that we don’t get to do normal shit like that.” You’re eyes trail down to your beat up shoes, the cocoa powder staining the off white canvas you’d spilt on them earlier.
“Always keeping our heads above the water, scraping by.” You toss the tea towel across the trailer, “I’m tired of it.”
JJ smooths his rough palms down your arms, head dipping to catch your gaze. “All I’m saying is that you’re in way over your head.” He’s got a knack of calming you, but his warning just riles you up more.
“I think I know what I can handle. Did long before you.” Huffing you bring your hands up and break out of his hold.
The bond between the two of you seemed to be twisted, fraying as you tried to hold onto the past. Both of you trying to get out of the lows of the Cut.
You knew it was a risk, the biggest part being Barry and the added hatred JJ had for the dealer. You just didn’t expect JJ not to understand.
There’s a bite to your words, all you seemed to do was hurt each other lately. You’re used to lashing out, hell so is JJ but you always sort it out. Just this time you don’t know if you can or if you want to.
He knows it too, it’s why he’s been spending more time with Kiara. You’re not a fool, you see that she can give him more than you can. He deserves that much and more.
Silence is rare for you and JJ, both projecting your voices no matter what the situation. You equally try to take up as much space as you can, afraid that if you stand still for a second you’ll get backed into a corner.
So the absence of all that sound and the limited in space in the trailer, it makes you irritated. There’s an itch you can’t quite get rid of, JJ would say it was Barry getting his claws in you.
You can hear the blood pumping in your ears, heart drumming in your chest as JJ leans against the counter. His head low, blond locks falling into his face. You don’t miss the shudder of his body and the deep breath he takes. It’s taking everything in him to keep calm, you know what he’s like when he’s frustrated.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay.” His voice is nothing but a murmur, you nearly miss what he says.
“I’m gonna get hurt no matter what I do, J. But you know what?” You say placing your hand on his shoulder. “You think I haven’t ran through all the possibilities? I have and there’s way worse than this.”
JJ’s head jerks up and he shakes his head, brows furrowing at the thought. “You deserve so much more though.”
You can’t help but laugh at his hopeful wish, one you’ve discarded long ago. It’s the one thing you like the most about JJ, his hopes and dreams and that he’s willing to do anything for them.
“Look at where we are from J. I’m either going to make it in my own doing this on my terms or marry some low life. What pop some kids out, find out I don’t like the guy and the cycle continues. Just like my mum or just like your dad.”
You jab his chest and he stumbles back a few steps, part of you wishes he was nearer the door so you can push him through it. He knows you’re trying to free up space so that you can breathe. You hate how understanding he is, when all you can think about is fleeing.
“I get you okay,” JJ says taking your hand in his before you can poke him again.
The warmth of his touch and soothing way he strokes the inside of your wrist has you retreating further into the trailer. You can’t give in now, it’s time to draw a line and make sure he doesn’t step over it.
So you do what you do best and act out of spite. “I don’t need, nor do I want you,” you spit the words out like venom that he flinches. You want to apologise, want to embrace him, but that little whisper in the back of your mind is telling you to lash out.
In that moment you feel yourself crumbling like JJ. Tears building and threatening to fall, but you dare not give in. You keep his stare, you watch him walk away with nothing but a glare. The door swinging shut behind.
You remind yourself why you’re doing this, it’s not fair to put JJ in harms way or offer him up to something he doesn’t agree with all to help you. This was the only way, now he could still keep dreaming and hoping for the life he deserves.
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you're already sick of hearing the "I'm pretty sure I have depression but no one believes me :/" so how about we mix it up a bit with the brand new "I'm pretty sure I don't have depression but no one fucking believes me ;-;"
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alvojake · 1 month
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i need tattoo artist jungwon and reader is his client, also his ex-girlfriend
「notes」 : thank you, anon, for blessing my inbox with this beautiful request because it left me thinking of tatted jungwon for days 😵‍💫
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Inked Hearts | Y.JW
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「paring」 : tattoartist!exbf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.9k
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「synopsis」 : it has been a few months since you and jungwon had a huge fight resulting in you breaking up; though things ended poorly, you still craved his touch. then you realize that you still have a tattoo appointment with him, dreading it. you just decide to push his buttons, not fully expecting it to end with you bending over the bed.
「genre」 : smut
「warning」 : cussing, biting/marking, fingering, begging, choking, slight hair pulling, size kink, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), orgasm denial, edging, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, manhandling, petnames (babydoll, baby...), the reader is a brat, clit play, teasing, rough sex, both the reader and jungwon are kinda toxic, public(ish) sex, bulge kink, lmk if I missed anything!
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It had been almost a month and a half since you and Jungwon had broken up over a petty little argument that some jealous girl in the club started. All because she couldn’t get Jungwon to budge when hitting on him. So what does she do? She spills her drink all over your outfit, then gets one of her guy friends to ‘help’ clean it up. All while making sure Jungwon was watching the whole time, this guy not so discreetly put his hands all over your chest.
The whole thing resulted in Jungwon yanking you away from Mr. Handsey and blowing up right outside of the club. He didn’t give you even a chance to explain what had happened, which only pissed you off. So you ended up yelling right back at him, embarrassed and hurt that he didn’t even bother giving you a chance to explain then goes and starts shouting hurtful things right outside where prying ears could easily hear.
It was safe to say that you never returned to your shared apartment that night, or any night, really. You only showed up when he wasn’t home to gather the things you’d need to crash at a friend's house until further notice.
Everyone told you that it would all blow over, and you would be able to talk it out with him. However, you knew he was too stubborn and your pride too large for either of you to step up and apologize first. This brings you to your current situation, staying with friends and working part-time at the very club that started this whole mess.
You didn’t really want to be working in the same place that ended your four-year-long relationship, but it’s not like you had much of a choice. It helped pay bills and kept you from going hungry. Though you can’t say, you valued your job enough to not jump over the counter every time you saw the little wench that ruined everything. The only thing holding you back was sitting behind bars until someone could come and bail you out. If they did.
Jungwon was still a sore spot for you, especially when you would drive by his tattoo shop. The very shop where he gave you your very first tattoo. The same shop that you were sure he had you bent over or on top of about every surface he could. Fucking you so good you saw stars and leaving your legs shaking. It brought back memories you wished you could relive, but then you remembered everything, and you’d be damned if you were going to be the first to apologize. 
But you never received a call nor a text of any kind from him, sure that he had blocked you. Thus leading you to believe that everything was actually over and you’d never see him again.
Or so you thought…
“Son of a fucking bitch!” You exclaimed, nearly flinging yourself off of your bed, phone clutched tightly in your hand.
“Y/n language!” your current roommate, Karina, shouted from down the hall. Rolling your eyes, you threw your phone on the bed and stood on your feet. Not even two seconds later, Karina was peeking into your room, fixing her septum. “What happened, though? Anything juicy?”
You couldn’t help but give her a deadpan stare, you loved her, but her incessant need for any gossip was one thing that damn near drove you up a wall.
However, you just let it slide this time because you needed someone to rant to. “I fucking forgot that I had a tattoo appointment with Jungwon today.” You groaned, flinging yourself backward onto your bed while Karina stifled a laugh.
“Damn, babe, looks like the world is really against you.” She smirked at you, her eyes scanning your face catching the conflicted emotions that swirled in your eyes. 
Karina would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy seeing you like this; it was a taste of your own medicine, really. You were one of her closest friends, but anyone with a pair of eyes could tell that you sucked at communication and then blamed it on the other person. Was she rooting for you and Jungwon to get back together? Definitely. Was she also rooting for the possibility that Jungwon or someone would do something about the attitude you’ve had? Fuck yes. 
“Are you still going to go?” Karina asked as she looked down at her nails, making a mental note to repolish them when she had the chance.
With a sigh, you brought your hand to your forehead, rubbing the crease between your eyebrows. “I’m gonna have to. Jungwon is the only one that I know that can ace this design.” Groaning you slapped the palm of your hand against your forehead, “fuck it, I’m going, worst comes to worst I’ll just let Jay do it.”
Karina hummed, looking up at you through her lashes, watching as you hastily searched your wardrobe for a suitable outfit. She had to bite back a smirk when you pulled out a black lace bra and matching underwear. As much as you say you’re dreading running into your ex, your actions tell a whole other story.
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You made it to the tattoo studio well before your appointment was meant to start; you’d rather be super early than late. 
Walking inside, you were greeted by the receptionist you’ve known since Jungwon hired her a year or so ago. Her lips were covered in a huge smile, showcasing her smiley piercing.
“Y/n, oh my god, it’s been forever! How have you been?” Belle greeted you as she stood from her seat, rushing over to engulf you in a hug.
“Hey Belle, I’ve been okay.” You patted her back softly before she moved away, her eyes shining brightly, “is Jungwon here?”
Belle’s eyebrows scrunched together, confused about your usage of Jungwon’s full name. She hadn’t been aware of the breakup, thinking that you had your own personal matters to attend to, which is why she hadn’t seen you.
“He went out to grab a few things, should be back soon.” The new voice caused your head to turn, catching sight of the tall, dark-haired male standing in the doorway, the light reflecting off of his eyebrow and lip rings. “How have you been holding up pipsqueak?” 
“Oh, you know, another day in paradise.” You shrugged, and Jay chuckled at the sarcasm dripping from your words, “And what have I said about that damn nickname?”
“And I’ve told you countless times to get used to it; it’s not goin’ anywhere.” He shrugged with a smirk, causing you to glare at him. “I’m surprised Won didn’t cancel the whole appointment; he’s been huffing and puffing about it all week.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “of course he has.” 
Jay laughed at the sour expression that had taken over your features, knowing that you weren’t much different from Jungwon with the whole ‘being the bigger person’ bit. Even if the two of you were locked in a room, he doubted you’d apologize to each other—at least not verbally.
Which is why Jay took it upon himself to clear out the studio as soon as you were back in Jungwon’s room. Giving you two the chance to ‘talk’ it out and saving everyone in the studio from the trauma of hearing it all happen. However, he needed something that he knew you’d use that would essentially set Jungwon off.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m free if you’d rather me do your tattoo,” he suggested, and he could see the hope gleam in your eyes. Too bad it was just a front. There was no way in hell that Jungwon would let anyone else do your tattoo, especially another guy, not with where it was placed.
“If he gives me too much hell, I might just take you up on that offer.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, unknowingly pushing your breast up.
The sound of the bell above the door caused him to avert his gaze, already knowing who had just walked in.
Jungwon walks in, and his eyes instantly fall on you before flickering over to Jay, who had been in mid-conversation with you. His face sours at the sight of you just standing there, more so when he notices the thin shirt you are wearing, as well as the skirt that sits just barely below your ass. Noticing his presence, you look over before rolling your eyes at the glare that harbored his face, already growing annoyed with his face.
You turn away, opening your mouth to talk to Jay once more. However, you are cut short when Jungwon walks in front of you, setting things down on the reception desk.
“Is your memory that bad that you forgot where my room was, or were you just waiting for an escort?” His tone was snarky as his eyes flickered over to you, eyebrow quirked up. He couldn’t help but smirk at the annoyed expression that painted your face beautifully. If there was one thing he loved almost just as much as fucking you, it was getting under your skin, riling you up.
“I do not ne-” “Hey Belle, put these in the back for me, will ya?” Jungwon just cut you off leaving you standing there looking at him with a flabbergasted look, jaw clenched tightly. 
Jay stood off to the side, watching with an amused gleam in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure, then he’s definitely sure now. It wasn’t just any normal tension between the two of you. No, it was just straight sexual tension. He then looked over at Heeseung, who had just looked up from his phone, motioning towards the door. The purple-haired male nodded before motioning to the others discreetly.
“Come on, Dory, let me show you the way since you obviously don’t remember.” Jungwon’s words struck a cord, and it took everything in you not to blow up. Your dark eyes watched Jungwon’s back as he walked into the main room, taking a deep breath deciding that he wasn’t worth the humiliation. So you waved softly at Jay before following after your ex-boyfriend.
Walking into Jungwon’s room, you could easily tell that he was annoyed, especially when he shut the door with such force that it shook the walls a bit. Rolling your eyes once more, you walked over to the counter, leaning back on it.
“You know, if you’re so pissed about doing my tattoo, I’m sure Jay would love to do it for me.” You bit back a smirk as his jaw tightened, the veins in his neck starting to pop out. A sense of pride filled your chest, knowing that you were slowly getting under his skin.
“Shut up and take your shirt off.” He hissed through gritted teeth, turning his body to face you. His eyes bore into you, making a chill go down your spine. The same stare that he would give you moments before he pinned you to the next surface and ‘taught’ you a lesson. Normally you would have thought that it would disgust you after everything, but no. It left your body burning, sure that your panties were already getting soaked.
However, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of winning. No, he was going to have to make you.
“You know that’s not how you would talk to a client, plus the least you could do is turn around.” You sassed him, crossing your arms over your chest once more, a smirk spreading across your glossed lips.
It took Jungwon two seconds flat to move in front of you, hands against the counter, caging your body in. His warm breath fanned your face as he inched closer. Your heart lept in your chest at the sudden proximity, and your stomach did flips as his scent filled your senses.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen you in less. Take it off before I tear it off.” He growled, the sound sending a wave of heat right to your core.
Keeping your composure, you stood straight, brushing your nose right against his, finger poking his chest. “Last time I checked, you said you didn’t want to see my tainted goods.”
In the blink of an eye, Jungwon had his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to elicit a whimper from you.
“The only thing ‘tainted’ about you is that damn attitude.” His voice was low as he pulled you closer to him, his lips ghosting over yours. Your eyes stared up at him, pupils blown wide, and Jungwon wasn’t stupid; he knew you were doing this to get a rise out of him. A smirk then spread across his lips, sending a shiver throughout your body, “how about you listen and lose it, or…” he closed the gap between your bodies. Your heart lurched when you felt his bulge against your stomach. “Am I gonna have to fuck it out of you like old times?” The sinister gleam in his eyes was enough to tell you what the answer was.
“Won…” You breathed out, voice hoarse from his hold. Your body was becoming uncomfortably hot, and the ache between your legs only grew as the seconds passed.
Jungwon chuckled, “Oh, so it’s Won now? Not Jungwon or asshole?” His fingers tightened a bit more, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. Then his smirk faded, and his eyes darkened, “On the bed, give me any more attitude, and you won’t be cumming, babydoll.” His grip then fell from your throat, allowing you to breathe properly.
You bit your tongue to suppress the smirk on your lips as you walked over to the bed, climbing on top. Laying back on your elbows, your legs parted just enough to give him a peek at your black underwear. 
“Are you sure you can restrain yourself? I mean, it has been a while.” Your lips quirked up as you stretched your foot out, brushing over his growing erection. Amusement gleamed in your eyes as his jaw tightened, his eyes darkening even more.
Jungwon grabbed your ankle, pulling it to his side before slotting himself between your legs. Your breath hitched in your throat as he grabbed your hip, pulling your body flush against his. Your body shivered at his touch, goosebumps littering your skin, and the arousal pooling in your panties grew even more.
“Missed my touch that much, huh?” That cocky smirk found its way back onto his lips, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Yeah, right.” You huffed, staring up at him, but Jungwon wasn’t stupid. He knew your body like the back of his hand—every little thing that made you tick, all the places that would have you like putty in his hands. He knew that you were craving him just by the look in your eyes when you walked in.
“Really?” He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, eyes boring into yours. “Because your body is telling me otherwise.” His fingers found your clothed core, pressing down, feeling your slick soak through. Your jaw clenched shut trying to keep from letting any noises out, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.
“How do you know it’s for you? I mean, Jay does loo-” Before you could even finish your sentence, Jungwon had his ring-clad fingers wrapped around your throat. Squeezing hard enough to elicit a squeak from your lips, eyes staring up at him with a glare.
“Finish that sentence, I dare you.” He growled, his eyes challenging you and normally you would have just kept your mouth shut, but right now? You wanted to push his buttons until he snapped, that little voice in the back of your head telling you that you didn’t have to obey him.
He wasn’t your boyfriend anymore, after all.
Your lips curled into a smirk, eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips for a split second. “I was saying that Jay looks more than capable to fuck me stupid.”
Then, just like that switch flipped in Jungwon’s brain, his eyes darkened with a rage you’ve never seen before. His hand around your neck released its grip before he leaned back far enough to strip himself of his jacket, revealing his inked skin. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, hands itching to touch him. However, before your hands made contact with his skin, he had your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head.
Jungwon’s dick twitched in his pants as he took in how small your hands were in comparison to his. Really just how much smaller you were compared to him altogether. He loved it, loved how easy it was for him to trap you in place. Loved how easy he could maneuver your body to whatever position he wanted. He then realized just how much he missed having you pinned underneath him.
“Babydoll, we both know that no one can fuck you stupid like I can.” He chastised you before leaning down and pressing a kiss against your jaw. Your body squirmed under his, the heat making you feel lightheaded. The need for some kind of friction was almost overbearing.
Jungwon relished in the way your hips were moving against his, listening to the soft sounds that left your lips. His free hand then moved from your hip, finding your clothed clit, and pressing down harshly.
“Fuck!” You cried out, your nerves shooting shockwaves throughout your entire body. His hands were rough on your body, sending your mind reeling. “Won, wait- shit, please be gentle.” You whined out as his pace picked up, making your body jolt. Tears are already pricking at the corner of your eyes.
Jungwon chuckled darkly before he bit down on the junction of your neck, “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address.” he growled before moving your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your tight hole with ease.
Your mouth fell agape as soundless moans fell from your lips, and your body shivered. It had been far too long since you’ve experienced anything like this, and it was turning your brain to mush.
“Look at you, I’ve barely done anything, and you’re already about to cum.” He berated you as he slipped another finger into your soaping cunt.
“Jungwon!” You cried out, nails digging into the palm of your hand. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and the knot in your stomach tightened unimaginably as his fingers brushed against your sweet spot.
Your eyes rolled back, legs twitching on either side of his hips as his fingers coaxed your climax closer. Jungwon smirked against your skin, knowing you were close to the way you were squeezing his fingers like a vice. Your moans of his name were music to his ears, though what he wanted was for your ability to make coherent sentences completely useless.
Just as your high was about to crash over you, Jungwon pulled his soaked fingers from your pulsating pussy, making a loud whine fall from your parted lips.
“Fuck! You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?” You cried out, meeting his eyes as he pulled away from your neck.
“You didn’t think I’d let you cum that easy, did you?” He smirked, keeping his eyes on yours as he stuck his drenched digits in his mouth. You whined, wiggling under his grip as frustration bubbled up in your chest. “Be a good girl and beg, then I might let you cum.”
You couldn’t help but scoff, eyes glaring up at him. “In your dreams, pretty boy.” You spit out, jaw clenched tightly. Eyes watched as he just shook his head, a sinister smile on his lips.
“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be begging for me by the time I’m through with you.” His fingers then slipped back into your slick cunt, his pace relentless. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep your noise down while he worked his slender fingers into you.
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The pattern continued for what felt like hours. Jungwon would work you close to your climax before ripping it away. Tears were spilling from your eyes, smearing your makeup from the frustration of not being able to cum.
You had lost count of how many times he’d denied you, but you knew that you could only handle so much more. The underwear you had been wearing had been tossed off in the room somewhere, leaving your arousal to pool on the bed beneath you.
The skin of your neck and chest had been painted in deep red and purple blotches as well as bite marks. Your pupils were blown wide as you stared up at him. Your walls clenched around his fingers once again as another orgasm built up in your gut.
“Won-” You were cut off by a choked moan as he denied you yet another orgasm; sobs racked your lungs as you wiggled under his hold. 
“Awww, is my poor baby getting frustrated?” He smirked, eyes studying your expressions as he slid his fingers back into your puffy cunt. His pace was quick, making sure he added extra pressure to your sweet spot, knowing that you would fold sooner rather than later.
As another orgasm built up, your eyes rolled back, and your will was slowly diminishing. Your chest was tight as you anticipated him to stop once again.
And he did.
You cried out, pleading with him with your eyes, but he wanted to hear you. You knew that you were going to have to swallow your pride if you were going to get what you wanted.
A gasp fell from your lips as he pressed against your clit, moving in tight circles. Your head fell back as you tried to form a coherent sentence.
“Won- fuck, please don’t stop. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You panted, eyes meeting his darker ones.
He leaned down, kissing the corner of your lips before trailing to your ear as he sunk his fingers back into you. "See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, baby?”
Pleas and whines fell from your lips as he continued to work into your core, tears blurring your vision. Hoping that he wouldn’t stop this time, that he would actually give you what you wanted.
But just like before he pulled away just as it was about to crash over you.
Before you could even whine about it, he let go of your hands, pulling your body off of the bed, flipping you over before bending you over. A choked moan fell from your lips when he landed a harsh smack on your ass before rubbing the red spot.
“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you cum babydoll.” He smirked, hands tracing up your thighs and under the skirt you were still wearing. His thumb pressed against your slit, watching as you clenched around it.
“Wonnie, please fuck me already.” You whined head turned to look back at him. Eyes glazed over with lust, the only thing on your mind was having him fucking you so good that you saw stars.
He unzipped his pants before tugging them down, letting his dick spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight, hips subconsciously wiggling in anticipation. He chuckled darkly before pumping himself a few times, then grabbing your hip in his other hand. He teased your entrance with his tip until you were a whining, begging mess.
“Well, if you want it so bad, then you better start taking it.” Without another word, he bottomed out in one go, causing a pitiful squeak to leave your lips.
“W-Won-” Your words caught in your throat as he started thrusting into you at a bruising pace, not giving you a chance to adjust. His hand gripped your hips so tightly that you were sure there would be bruises by the next day.
Another choke moan spilled from your lips as one of his hands snaked around your waist, fingers finding your sensitive clit. He circled the bundle of nerves harshly in time with his thrust causing your body to jolt and a cry to fall from your lips.
You buried your face into the hard cushions of the bed, hoping to muffle some of your noises, suddenly becoming acutely aware of where you were. You prayed that no one could hear anything that was going on right now. However, Jungwon didn’t care who heard. Actually, he did care because he wanted everyone to know who you belonged to, especially Jay. 
He grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your body up, your back flush against his chest as he continued to plow into you. Your moans grow louder as the position changes.
“Feels good, huh, babydoll?” He chuckled as his hand snaked around your hips, pressing down on the small bulge in your lower stomach. A choked cry fell from your lips as he pressed down, making you feel him even more, “You really wanna tell me that Jay can fuck you just as good as I can? Hmm?” 
You shook your head frantically, knowing that no one would be able to get you like this but him.
��Fuck, fuck, fuck Jungwon!” You screamed out the worry of other people hearing completely gone from your mind.
He continued to pound into your abused pussy, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. The pressure of his hand on your stomach was making your mind fuzz as moans and whines of his name fell from your lips.
“Gonna cum already baby?” He growled in your ear as he snapped his hips into yours, hitting spots that only he had claimed for himself. His grip tightened on your waist as he angled his hip a bit more.
“Holy shit!” You cursed loudly, your eyes rolling back as he hit your sweet spot dead on. Your mouth fell open as your head lolled back, drool spilling from the corner of your lips.
A high-pitched squeak left your mouth when he brought his hand from your stomach to your clit, rubbing harshly. All of the pleasure and your impending orgasm were causing your legs to start shaking and your mind to go blank.
“That’s it, babydoll, give it to me. Make a mess on my cock” Jungwon knew you were close, switching his position once more until you were crying over his dick, moments away from your orgasm. He pressed wet and hot kisses along your exposed neck before biting down in time with his fingers on your clit.
Silent moans fell from your lips, and your vision turned white as your orgasm tore through your body. Jungwon groaned into your skin as you clenched down tightly on him, but his pace didn’t slow, easily throwing you into overstimulation.
“W-Won- fuck!” Your whole body was trembling as continuous waves of pleasure washed through your body.
“Fuck. I’m almost there; just hold on.” His harsh and gruff tone had switched to soft and borderline whines, causing your mind to almost combust.
His once harsh pace was starting to become sloppy, erratic, and uneven, a telltale sign that he was close. His hips still snapped into yours harshly, which was bringing you closer to another orgasm. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You whine out, nails digging into Jungwon’s forearms, trying to ground yourself as another climax washes over you, nearly taking your breath away. Tears were spilling from the corner of your eyes, falling down and drenching Jungwon’s shirt under your head.
“Fuck, I’m cumming. You’re gonna take all of it, babydoll, got it?” He growled in your ear but didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was pumping his load into your womb.
His hips jerk a few more times, fucking his cum back into you before falling to a complete stop.
Heavy breathing filled the room as you both stood there, trying to catch your breath. Jungwon pressed soft kisses over the swollen spots on your skin where he had bit down. Coaxing you back down from your high, fingers drawing shapes on your hips.
“Won…” You breathed out, blinking your eyes a few times to clear the tears before glancing up at him.
“There she is.” He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The feeling made your heart flutter—you had missed this, you had missed him. 
Then everything came flooding back, the hurt following. Swallowing thickly, you pulled yourself away from him before searching for your underwear with shaky legs.
“Y/n, what are you doing?” Jungwon asked, fixing himself before making his way towards you.
“This shouldn’t have happened, we’re not together anymore.” You told him, your eyes looking everywhere but him.
Jungwon could hear the hurt in your tone, and he knew you were right about the not being together part, at least. However, he wasn’t about to let you walk away from him again no matter how upset he was then, he knew now.
“Baby…” His hands found your waist, pulling you into his chest, causing your heart to lurch. 
“Jungwon, let me-” “No, please listen to me. I’m sorry I was such a dickhead.” He breathed out, arms wrapping around your smaller frame, “I should have let you explain but instead I just let her words cloud my mind and I know that’s not any excuse, but I’m sorry I truly am.” His words sunk into your skin, and tears brimmed in your eyes once more. “Let me make it up to you. Give me a chance, please baby.”
You inhaled shakily before turning your head to look back at him, “Fine, but only if we go to that one restaurant I like.”
Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle before peppering kisses all over your face, “Whatever you want, baby.”
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@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
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ceruleanchillin · 6 months
Text
But is she really yours? (141 x Reader)
Note(s) -
It's long, so be warned.
The guys are doing a little of what we like to call Dirty Mackin, and yes, I think this is something they’d all do in their own way.
Still working on getting those accents to come through, while not stepping into cringe/wrong territory. 
I apologize, this is a very messy format (borderline stream of consciousness), and I’m trying to figure out a cleaner way to do this. I hope it doesn’t hurt the reading experience.
And I am the only one who kinda wants to see the reverse scenario, where Reader tries to get the guys away from their trash gfs? 👀Thanks to @bunnyreaper for the idea, it wrote itself as I read that.
Simon:
Annoying. That was the first thing Simon thought of you. So of course you had to work at the only cafe near his flat that made tea the way he liked.
You were always on your phone, arguing with someone (he guessed a boyfriend), and he hated getting stuck at your register. The calls clearly distressed you, and he didn’t know why you kept taking them. Especially on the job.
You’d gotten his order wrong more times than he could count, and you were always having to turn around and ask him to repeat the things he wanted. It got to the point where he waited until the other barista’s line was open.
Unfortunately, other customers had done the same, and it was causing a backup.
Then there was the day. His day started as it always did on his off time. The three S’s, and then he was at the gym to get his time in when he knew it was mostly empty. Then finally, his black tea.
He sighed, mentally preparing himself for the wait before he entered. As expected, there was a line.
You were there, and you appeared to be deeply engaged in conversation with the only person at your counter.
He was surprised to see you had a customer. ‘Must not be a regular.’
As he got closer to the counter, he could overhear the whispered argument. The man wasn’t a customer at all, he presumed he was the boyfriend from the phone calls. Based on the things the two of you were saying, that made the most sense.
‘Great. Getting the live version today.’ Simon had to wonder how you kept this job. Were you the boss's daughter? Did you own a share? Could he steal enough of the signature black tea blend and go into hiding until he had to ship out again?
You looked exasperated, and your co-worker stepped over to your side, coming to your aid.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Simon groaned, realizing the wait would be longer. 
He stepped outside for a cigarette, making the mental decision that if by the time he was done with it there was still a line, he would forgo his drink that day.
He chose the alley on the side of the shop, not liking the openness of the sidewalk, and staked out against the opposite building’s wall.
He was halfway past the tip of his cigarette when the side door he’d been eyeing warily opened, and out came you.
You looked frustrated, anxious, and maybe a little embarrassed. He didn’t think you noticed him, instead, walking over to the dumpster and kicking it, hard. It sent a loud, tinny groan echoing through the alley. He narrowed his eyes, feeling that itch of frustration under his skin.
You noticed him finally, and stopped angrily muttering to yourself. Instead, you started talking to him. It was mostly an uninterrupted stream of dialogue for two minutes straight (he timed it), before he could finally understand you.
“Mandatory break! That’s the second one this week, can you believe that?”
He started to say yes, and that he hoped the third one won you a prize: getting fired. He kept his mouth shut though.
“It’s not even me, it’s my boyfriend. He means well, but he just…I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” You were searching for something in your apron, but he couldn’t tell what, out of the corner of his eye.
Simon flexed his fingers, eyes narrowing until the shop’s logo mural was a blur. You found it, and walked closer to him until he turned both eyes to you.
“Can I get a light?” You gestured with the unlit cigarette between your fingers to the one burning between his lips.
“Bloody. Fuckin’. Hell, Bird! S’not enough you keep half the fuckin’ place backed up on a good day, but then you prance your arse out here to annoy me some fuckin’ more? Fuck off.” He jabbed his pointer finger at the door you’d come out of.
The alley echoed his baritone, and somehow made his outburst sharper.
You stared at him like he’d taken his head off, instead of having bitten off yours. Eyes wide, bottom lip trembling, he thought you might cry, and he began to feel guilt grow in the pit of his stomach. He’d forgotten, in the midst of you stirring up similar agitation, that he wasn’t on base talking to some recruit dumped on him. 
You did cry, but once you started talking, he suspected it was more due to anger. “Fuck you! You fuck off, I work here!”
He ignored the small voice telling him ‘stop’, and fired back. “Work?” He snorted. “Real fuckin’ rich that is. Don’t confuse work with your million mandatory breaks.”
You clenched your fists, eyes wild with adrenaline and voice shrill with anger. “Go to hell. You’re just some freak in an alley who can’t remember when Halloween is. You don’t know me.”
You angrily wiped at your tears to no avail, as more quickly took their place, and then you started sobbing. 
Simon sighed, feeling like shit and wishing he’d held it together just a little more. “Alright. Alright. ‘Nuff of that now.”
“I’m not crying *hic* because of you…” you huffed, trying to get your voice under control. “Just go back to your cigarette. I hope you suck it up and *hic* choke!”
He chuckled, you were the first person in a while who’d lashed back out at his harsh disposition. At least to his face. “Was uglier than I should’ve been, but won’t pretend there wasn’t some truth to it.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“You’re a shit barista, wanna form a band?” His lips quirked into a smirk around his near-stub cigarette.
For a beat there was silence, until the two of you burst into laughter. Yours a raucous peal of giggles, and his, raspy chuckles.
“Well, you earned that light. Got more balls then a lot of soldiers I know.”
The two of you stayed in that alley for thirty minutes just riffing off different topics. It ended with Simon giving you the friendly (read: rough) advice to not let your boyfriend cost you your job.
That’s not how he saw his day going. Having the most interesting conversation he’d had in a while with the woman who annoyed the piss out of him for the better part of his leave.
You were no longer annoying, you’d been upgraded to interesting, and that was the second thing Simon thought about you.
After your talk in the alley, Simon was pleasantly surprised to find that you’d taken his advice and stepped your skills up. It turned out, you were distracted by your boyfriend, but Simon had come to see why. He was obsessed with knowing where you were, and if you were thinking of him, and wondering if he should drop by. 
Simon felt more guilt for being so impatient, and he decided no matter what, he would pick your line. That was the only reason too. It certainly wasn’t because he couldn’t stop thinking about you after your last conversation. 
Sometimes you would take your breaks with him now, exhibiting that same forward nature from the alley, but it no longer annoyed him. He’d tease you about whether or not that break was mandatory, but he looked forward to it all the same.
You talked about anything and everything, from where you were from, to Simon having to explain the delicate ins and outs of football to you. (He was pretty sure you were pushing him to have a heart attack by pretending you forgot a different detail every time you talked).
It was an unstated, but mutually understood, thing that your time together fulfilled something missing for both of you. For him it was cutting into his habit of cutting off socialization until he was back on base or a mission, and for you, it was a break from your relationship.
He liked to think that you looked forward to your talks as much as he did, if your expression every time you saw him was an indicator. 
Unlike him, you were an open book, so you did most of the talking. Simon soaked up everything you told him, filing it away. You were funny, and fascinating.
On his end, he was careful about some of what he shared, and nervous about other things. He had more dark or restricted anecdotes than humourous or endearing ones, and he didn’t want to bring you down. After all, you had more than enough of that to deal with.
The boyfriend. He was a nightmare of obsession and insecurity. It was perhaps your fourth break-hangout that Simon saw it completely for himself. He’d all but dragged you out of your seat, which made Simon rise from his so quickly, it almost toppled over behind him. He wasn’t unaware of his size, nor was he afraid to use it on the shorter man, but you assured him it was fine until he sat down.
Your boyfriend was panicking, wondering why you were keeping someone like him company. He wanted to know what it meant for the two of you, and Simon hated seeing you in an endless loop of begging the pathetic prick to believe you loved him. All of your humor and your cute little habits disappeared as he forced you to become a helicopter girlfriend, concerned only with his fears.
Simon decided then he would sway you away from him. He didn’t deserve you, and Simon may not have known you long, but he couldn’t stand to see you withering under him and his emotional blackmail. No one ever accused Simon of being sane.
You would be his, and that was the third thing Simon thought about you.
If he said so himself, he was slick about it. He’d forgotten about the amount of energy it took to pursue a relationship with someone, and why he limited his romantic interactions to hookups with women he found interesting.
You weren’t just interesting, he was fully infatuated with you by the time he started to actively move towards getting you away from that neurotic dumpster. You were worth the effort.
It started with seeing you outside of the cafe in a way that seemed natural. He thought about it for a while, before he settled on inviting you to a football game. He couldn’t believe he’d worried that you’d say no, your ‘yes’ came out before he was even done asking.
You were impressed with his timing, confessing that the night before, your boyfriend had thoroughly embarrassed you at a party, and you needed a fun day.
Simon had smiled tightly all through your hurried explanation that everything was fine, and that he had apologized once you got home with him.
The day of the game, you were absolutely adorable when he picked you up. Giddily introducing him to your roommate. She eyed him with approval, and even congratulated you for trading up.
Before you could correct her, he slipped in his answer. “That remains to be seen. Depends on if she embarrasses me at the game.”
You snorted, launching into that now familiar peal of giggles. “I promise I won’t. Now, which of these soccer teams is yours again? The Manfordshire Mermaids?”
“You wanna ride there on the roof?”
The trip was a better investment than he thought. You were enthralled with what was going on, the hype of the crowd, the skill of the players, and just being there in person. However, you had to rely on him to translate this new world to you, and that left you literally clinging to him in interest. Simon was your whole world in that stadium, and he locked that feeling down tightly for motivation.
Step one had gone off without a hitch, and now it was on to step two. 
Outings with you became a series. Simon encouraged as many as possible in order to trigger the response he wanted.
He knew it wouldn’t be long until your boyfriend started getting antsy, and insecure again. You were going out twice as much as you had before you started hanging out with Simon outside of the cafe.
To push the matter, Simon told you his work schedule was getting hectic. It was a half truth, the training period before the announcement of a deployment had commenced, and Simon planned on having a girlfriend to come home to this time. Namely you.
He used the excuse to create later meetups. Dinners, movies, wandering the street and stumbling into things to do. All the while getting you hooked on his touch. Simon wasn’t a touchy-feely person by nature, and this was something everyone who knew him picked up on quickly. You picked up on it too, but he wanted to touch you. He didn’t though, at least not often. 
Starting off with little touches that could be confused as an accident, he increased the pressure but kept the frequency low so you became addicted to his rare touches. He wanted you to feel special that someone like him indulged you in that way, so that you’d seek out more, even though HE was the one who felt blessed every time he felt your skin on his.
When you were together, he made sure things were about you. He didn’t imagine your boyfriend left much room for that with his paranoia, but he wanted to show you what you were in for once you were together. 
One night, Simon kept you out later than usual. He’d stayed away from you for two weeks, which wasn’t hard, work was starting to pick up. He could’ve carved out a day or two though, but he wanted to make you crave his time like he did yours. 
It worked. He scheduled a late dinner at an upscale restaurant, letting you fill him in on all that he missed. Namely, you missed being with him. You weren’t the type to keep your feelings to yourself, and you’d inevitably vented to your boyfriend about missing your friend. He didn’t like that label at all, but he liked what would come from your actions.
Periodically throughout the dinner, your phone rang, increasing in frequency as the night wore on. 
You had to excuse yourself multiple times, and Simon pretended to be annoyed. In reality, he anticipated that. Each time the phone rang, you cringed and looked at him apologetically. 
On what had to be the tenth time, Simon said. “Go on then, run off to pamper the pathetic bastard. Powder his arse too this time.”
Your face screwed up in objection to his barbed words. “He’s just worried…”
He shrugged. “Don’t owe me an explanation lovie. S’just a mystery why you’re in such a rush to be a nursemaid.”
Rolling your eyes, you stood up from the table. “I’m in a rush to be a good girlfriend thank you. Stop being an ass, I’ll be back in a minute.”
“S’go,” he downed the last of his bourbon before he pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll pay the tab and take you home.”
“What? We’re supposed to have dessert, and then maybe a movie.” 
Simon watched your distressed body language and expression with mild amusement, and he was proud of being able to hide it, even though he’d forgone his mask that night. “You’ve gotta tuck in your kid. S’not on me you won’t date a man.”
You pouted and sat back down. “If I put my phone away, you put your wallet away. You promised me dessert.”
He smirked, refusing to hide it now. This was the first time, since he’d met you, that you’d ignored your boyfriend, and it said a lot.
You did it once, so Simon was able to turn it into a habit. Your boyfriend looked increasingly unhinged as Simon made sure you starved him of your attention.
The ugly voicemails and text messages began soon after. He didn’t like that at all, and he had to remind himself the time to deal with your boyfriend would come, but he did appreciate that you were becoming less tolerant of him. 
Every time you returned to Simon after having to soothe your boyfriend’s ego, and stop his tantrums, Simon made your life easier. He worshiped you in subtle ways, reminding you of what a man was, compared to a child.
There was guilt on your part, but it felt so good to be taken care of for once. To not have to worry about Simon bursting into a fit of insecurity that made you completely responsible for his feelings, and left little to no room for anything else. 
When he touched you, it lit your nerve endings on fire. You knew that the touches were bordering on inappropriate, since you were still taken, but you also knew that your brain went numb with good vibrations with even just a brush of his fingertips.
Simon still kept it light, almost questionable as to whether it even happened, and you finally began to seek it out. Wearing backless tops so that his fingertips would brush your bare skin, sitting next to him in diner booths so a thick thigh was always brushing your own, going for things in high places so he’d steady you by your waist.
He never seemed to miss a beat on when and where to touch you, but it wasn’t enough.
The breaking point came when he invited you to a dinner Price was holding as a goodbye to civilian life until next leave. The verbal invitation was the most valuable thing to you in a while. Not only because you were increasingly becoming addicted to him, but because for someone like Simon to invite you into that part of his life, it meant that he was in deep with you too.
All of Simon’s friends were funny, inviting, and very taken by you. They were so polite to you, complimenting you, and telling you as much as they could about their work, trying to impress you.
You were having fun trying to keep up, but you got the impression that Simon inviting a woman he was seeing to meet them was a new thing, and they didn’t know the protocol.
You were surprised to find he went by Ghost in his field, and they were unused to hearing Simon. You shared how the two of you met, and how polite he wasn’t in your first conversation, and they weren’t surprised.
You were enjoying your time with them, the conversation never stopped, and you would venture to say Simon looked fond at times. Though, as each man became more flirtatious, his expression would change. It became an unspoken game between you and his team to try and make him speak up about it. He didn’t take the bait.
Then came the topic of your boyfriend.
“Come now love, you’re a smart girl. Why do you wanna waste your time with that bellend?” - Price
“I don’t ken what the situation here is, but if Ghost and the other one don’t appreciate you, I promise I will.” Soap
“I had a girl once, who used to follow me in her friend’s car, sit outside my apartment, and call me from different phones to test me. You’re fit as hell love, dump him.” - Gaz
 It was a little embarrassing, and you were slightly annoyed that Simon had told them, but your mind kept shortening it to ‘he talked about me to his team.’ 
During dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom. While you were washing your hands, Simon slipped into the room, making you jump.
Your eyes met in the mirror, where Simon just glared.
“Have fun with the boys, bird?”
“Have fun broadcasting my business?” You raised an eyebrow, but your tone held no anger to it.
Simon chuckled, locking the door. “S’not my business is it?”
You swallowed hard, shaking your head slowly.
He trapped you between the sink and himself, hands locking onto the counter on either side of you. 
“Let’s fix that.” His lips pressed to the pulse point on the side of your neck, speaking his command against it. “Get rid of him lovie, and come home where you belong.”
You tried to do just that, but for the first time that you could recall, your boyfriend wasn’t taking your calls.
Simon watched you while he packed, tucked beneath his sheets where you belonged, bare. It’d been a week since you took that next step in his captain’s guest bathroom, and you’d been trying to inform your ex he was now in fact, your ex.
You gingerly rolled over to face him, mindful of all the reminders that he loved you he left your body. “Si, he’s still not picking up. I don’t want to do it over the phone, but…”
“Don’t get worked up. Maybe he got the message already...”
Kyle:
He’d re-visited Chicago on his downtime, and met you in a club. Unknown to him at the time, your boyfriend had stood you up for the third time that month, and you decided not to waste the night. It’d made you so free and enthralling to watch, he couldn’t look away.
Gaz spent the entire night with you, glad he’d ignored the jet lag, even when you took him to all the best after-hours spots.
The only problem was your boyfriend, Keith, who Gaz personally believed formed in the bottom of a toilet, and sought life elsewhere. His team thought he was delusional, and/or giving you too much thought.
“You hitting the States again then? Don’t get in the kind of trouble that you can’t get out of because you’re jealous.” - Price
“Garrick! Get your fuckin’ head off your cock, and on the exercise, before I shove my boot down your throat!” - Ghost (after he fumbled a training exercise twice)
Except for Soap, Soap backed his delusions %1,000. “She let you charge your phone when hers needed it more? That’s wedding bells lad, and I wanna be best man.” 
Then there was the relentless teasing every time he spent his leave with you, but Gaz didn’t care. He couldn’t bother being embarrassed when you were waiting for him. Your grin was for him, your excited laughter was for him, and your hug was for him. The one he always held longer than friends do, his heart racing when you relaxed in his hold. Smirking when he felt your nose brush over chest quickly. You were sheepish when he grinned down at you, realizing what you were doing.
You’d gotten him cologne on his first (date) daytime hangout with you. You’d been strolling through the mall, Gaz trying to make you forget about the ugly scene he’d walked into between you and your boyfriend when he arrived at your place.
You’d been so sad, and it didn’t suit you at all. He just wanted to take you out of that environment, and let your real-self blossom again.
His hand brushed with yours, pinkies locking and unlocking so he could feel his stomach dip again and again.
He was able to slowly bring you back, into a little world of inside jokes and friendly culture clashes. Gaz fully had you back by the time he stopped in front of an expensive looking fragrance shop and said:
“You know what? I need a new aftershave, but I’m clueless about shopping for that stuff.”
“Uh, aftershave?” you’d looked puzzled, peering into the store window. “Do they even sell that here?”
He let out a confused laugh, pointing at the bottles on the glass shelf. “We’re looking at it, so I’d guess yes.”
“You mean cologne?” you gave him your first real smile since you’d gotten there, and Gaz forgave yet another correction in favor of it.
“Get in here, and help me find an aftershave.”
He proposed that you guys find the perfect scent for the other and buy it as a gift. The two of you spent the better part of thirty minutes teasing and sniffing each other. Every time Gaz lifted a part of your arm or wrist to his nose, he let his lips brush across your skin accidentally.
“Kyyylee..” you whined every time, making him stir in the right places at the wrong time. 
Eventually you both settled on something for the other, but Kyle slyly placed himself in the position of paying for both. The thought of you paying never having been a real thing in his mind.
“You’ll get it next time, love.”
He treasured that scent, you’d specifically picked it out for him, and he’d savored the look you gave him when you’d finally found it. Now he was in front of you again.
“Yeah, it’s the one you bought me. Did me a good turn with that. I get compliments like they get paid to give ‘em.”
“Who’s complimenting you?” you asked, your wince revealing it’d probably come out sharper than you meant for it to.
Gaz didn’t mind, he liked you as jealous as he was. 
He chuckled, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Just..other girls with good taste.”
Your pout and sharp head turn went right on display in the mental gallery he had of you. He couldn’t resist teasing you again.
“Are you wearing the one I picked.” he leaned down hovering just over your neck where he knew you could feel the soft puffs of breath on your neck. He heard your breath hitch when he hummed, confirming that you were.
“I am, and don’t worry about who’s complimenting it, since you have sooo many of your own.”
Gaz laughed as you yanked him after you with a huff. If he was delusional, you weren’t helping.
This visit was going how he imagined it, and he intended to end it exactly that way too. Finally getting that bastard out of a picture he should’ve never been a part of. 
When clubbing, Kyle kept you close. You both loved to dance, and every song that came on seemed out to prove that your bodies were built to fit together like a puzzle.
He took an interest in your life, wanting to see what you got up to when he wasn’t there. You’d resisted, thinking it’d bore him. It did not.
 He enjoyed meeting your co-workers, and eating at the cafe you loved a block from your job. You even took him to spend an afternoon with your family. Every time he scored a point with them, you gave him this dreamy expression he was determined to see for the rest of his life.
When he suggested making plans with your friends, so they didn’t feel like you were ignoring them while he was there, you were thrilled at how considerate he was, and he got the pleasure of overhearing you hype him up to your friends while you invited them out to do something.
It was you blocking your girlfriends every time one of them tried to push the flirtation with him too far, that let him know it was time.
He decided he would make his move when the two of you were having a movie night at your place. It wasn’t ideal, because that piece of shit was lingering around the place. Kyle hated that you lived together, but wouldn’t let that interfere. He had work to do.
“Kyyyleee.” you giggled, dragging his name out the way he loved when he ran a finger down your cheek to your neck, complimenting your skin.
“Just admiring your skin routine. You’ve gotta share.”
Or, when he shivered, and you instinctively extended your blanket to him. He took it without question, trying not to think about all of the things you could do under a shared blanket. Although, your boyfriend walking in and out of the room, pretending he had things to get out of the kitchen, made the thought more enticing.
You’d invited him to watch in earnest, and he’d just cut you down in a way that made Kyle quickly remind him he was in your apartment, because he’d lost his job, and had nowhere else to go. That you’d sweetly taken him in, and that he should remember that.
He enjoyed kicking him down while raising you up.
Your boyfriend finally just sat at the kitchen table in the dark, fuming. The living room was visible to him from there, but Kyle was glad to have him as an audience to him reminding you of your worth.
You two exchanged snacks and commentary, easily ignoring the unwanted third party.
“No offense love, but beer here is straight piss.”
You laughed, stealing one of the cookies left on his plate. “Beer tastes like that in general.”
“How would you know? You’ve never been anywhere.” your boyfriend snapped at you nastily, from where he’d been glaring at the two of you for an hour. “And why don't you go back to jolly old England if you hate it so much?”
Gaz lazily rolled his head in his direction, body language shouting how much he didn’t respect him. “Mate, you’re being a right prick right now. It’s not like you bought the beer, or anything else you’ve been shoving in that hole.”
Your boyfriend leapt to his feet, fast enough to knock over the chair. “Come over here and repeat that teacup.”
“Blud, that’s not what you want.”
“Kyle don’t, he’s just drunk and embarrassed. Ignore him when he’s like this.” you quickly passed a hand over the back of his, but he just gave you a soft smile instead. 
“That’s his problem, he embarrassed himself. Why don’t you go in the back and find something to do.” He was so effortlessly dismissive, that your boyfriend mistook this for being unprepared to fight.
Kyle’s one rule for his plan was that he wouldn’t physically handle your boyfriend unless he got physical with you. He’d planned to show you how you should be loved, and let a smart girl like you do the rest. That went out the window.
He kept it clean, the other man was stocky, but didn’t stand a chance against his training. If you hadn’t been there, he might’ve taken it further, grinding his hatred of him into harsher blows. Instead, he gave him quick, almost surgically effective, blows to put him down. He was too intoxicated and unskilled to retaliate. 
“See, he just needed a nap.” Gaz tried to lighten the mood.
“I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered. “I don’t know why he’s always like this now. He didn’t use to be. I just want this to stop.”
Kyle shushed you, crossing the room to pull you into his arms. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’ve been dealing with this for too long.”
“I’m so tired.” you admitted, clutching his soft shirt, and inhaling his scent (your scent, that you gave him) that made your eyes roll back in your head. He was so solid, warm, and a darker word popped into your mind, ‘mine.’
“You’ve been so good to everyone, too good. Let me take care of you.” he whispered, hands roaming from your lower back to cup your ass.
He heard the hybrid of a whimper-moan, and it had him at attention before you were done.
“I’d be just like him…” you trailed off weakly.
“That’s not possible.” He lowered his lips to yours, giving you the first kiss from him that couldn’t possibly be mistaken as platonic. You kissed back without any hesitation, not even willing to pull away when he started to lead you to the back. To your room.
Hate him as he did, Gaz noted somewhere in his mind how dark the scenario was. The location, and situation, in which he was about to fulfill the second-to-last step of his plan was kind of fucked.
He cupped your jaw in both hands,“Babe…we can go back to my room at the hotel.”
He didn’t want to. He wanted to erase any trace of him here, starting in your room. He wanted you everywhere he could have you in the apartment, and he wanted him to come to just enough to hear it.
“Makes no sense. Too far. Here.” you murmured, pupils blown wide. 
Gaz didn’t need to be told twice. You were barely able to string a sentence together, and it was top three one of the hottest things he’d ever heard.
“Yes ma'am.” 
Kyle didn’t doubt you’d complete the final step in the morning, and officially dump the forgotten man on the floor.
Johnny:
You and Johnny met through social media. He thought you were gorgeous and, being John “Soap” MacTavish, couldn’t leave your profile without letting you know. Though he threw in some playful critique.
You responded with a thanks, and a challenge for him to do the picture better. It resulted in a months-long photo battle that quickly became a real friendship.
Late phone calls, video calls, and constant strings of texting built a whole world between the two of you. 
You were the highlight of his day sometimes, especially when he’d been gone awhile. You helped him reconnect with the world after shutting it out to defend it.
The only problem was your boyfriend. Johnny prided himself on being able to get along with all kinds of people. It was just in his nature. Hate was so rarely felt by him, that he always had trouble identifying it when he felt it. 
He felt hate for your boyfriend, and it didn’t take him long to figure that out. He thought he didn’t deserve you. He was always talking to you reckless, like he didn’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in his life. Johnny wouldn’t talk to you like that, he wouldn’t have time to even consider it for all the worshiping of you he’d be doing. 
He’d cheated, only to make you feel like that was on you, and you took him back. 
When Johnny heard your pained sobs for the first time, he’d been halfway through texting Simon to ask for help with a dark favor before he was able to talk himself down.
It was then Johnny realized how much you’d come to mean to him, and that only made him hate your boyfriend more.
Your conversations ranged from anything to everything, but they always ended with you venting, and Johnny comforting. He didn’t mind it, in fact, most times he initiated it.
He realized, he must mean a good deal to you too, because you got all your comfort from him. Johnny’s thoughts mattered to you, and you sought his advice all the time. He hated what for, but he loved that you did.
“He didn’t even like the dress Johnny. I told him you thought of it, and he accused me of wanting to wear it for you.” your screen shook violently as you stomped into your bedroom, sending said garment sailing through the air.
“M’sorry to hear that. I meant what I said when you showed it to me in the shop. Any guy that doesn’t lose it to you in that dress deserves to be committed.”
You sniffed, choking out a humorless chuckle. “I’m glad you liked it at least.”
“Oh, you don’t ken how much sweetheart. In fact, put it on for me again.”
Six months into the friendship, he convinced you to come visit him in Scotland. You’d been having more trouble with your boyfriend than usual, living with him didn’t exactly give you a lot of places to take a breather.
Once Johnny confirmed he hadn’t hurt you physically, he’d switched to coaxing you into coming to see him for a couple of weeks.
“C’mon bonnie, I’ve been stateside more times than I can count. You haven’t been here once.” He watched you do your bedtime routine, as the sun came up in the windows behind him.
He loved how despite being countries away, the moment felt as intimate as if you were with him. In his home, getting ready to come to bed with him. Except if you were, he’d tell you not to bother brushing your hair. You’d just have to do it again later.
You laughed as you ran a comb through your hair. “It’s not like you came here for me Johnny. We didn’t even know each other the last time you were here.”
“So…you’ll return the favor later. Be my pretty tour guide.”
You wound up in Scotland barely a week later. A suitcase full of clothes haphazardly thrown into it.
“I don’t even know what I packed, it's a mess!” 
Cue Johnny, who can’t quit hugging you, and they feel less and less platonic. “Don’t worry ‘bout it bon. I’ll find somewhere for it all to go.”
Somewhere turns out to be designated drawers and shelves, that he’d cleared in advance, for your clothes and bath products. Johnny putting them away himself like the simp for you he is. All the while distracting you from stating how you wouldn’t be there long, and you don’t need all that space. 
“We’ll see.”
Johnny had been coaxing less and less innocent behaviors out of you all week, and just worshiping you when he wasn’t. You were a worked up hybrid of desperation, and restored self-confidence. It was addictive, and you started to lean into Johnny’s touches and kisses. You pretended you didn’t hear his murmured dirty statements so he’d have to try again and again.
It came to a head when you finally accepted a video call from your pathetic boyfriend. 
You were in Johnny’s living room, wearing his favorite football jersey, with him behind you, absolutely refusing to make himself scarce. You didn’t want to take the call anyway, but Johnny convinced you it’d be good for closure.
Your boyfriend started going off, yelling about how you didn’t respect him or your relationship, and demanding that ‘you bring your ass home’.
“The thing of it is lad, there’s not really anything about this relationship to respect.” Johnny slipped around to your side, tilting your head up to press his lips to yours. 
You hummed in surprise, but all of his gentle touches and sweet kisses over the week had you pliant. You immediately responded, squeezing his arm when he slipped his tongue into your mouth as a tease.
He pulled away, looking way too smug, and looking all the more impossibly-handsome for it. “Say bye to your ex-boyfriend then bon. The rest of this isn’t for him.”
You gurgled something like goodbye as you slammed the lid on your laptop, attention still fully on Johnny.
John Price:
Price thought your fiance should crawl in a fire and stay there. Yeah. He wasn’t ashamed.
The man was garbage, and hardly worth you giving him a glance, let alone this much sacrifice. You’d moved countries for him, happy to make your home with him because of his job. He treated it as though that should’ve been a given.
That’s how Price had gotten to know you. You lived in the apartment across the hall from him, and the first moment you smiled at him, John was a goner.
You introduced yourself with a smile, your pretty little hand extended out towards him. He’d stood there, wishing he hadn’t worn his ratty sweatshirt with his old football team logo in fading letters. You looked gorgeous, hair framing your face, slightly out of breath from lugging in your things.
He’d stumbled in his mind until he finally remembered proper social protocol. “Price…Captain John.” He cleared his throat. “Captain John Price.”
Your mouth formed an ‘o’, you were visibly intrigued.“Captain? You’re in the military.”
“Yes.” 
“Well…thank you for your service.” 
Normally, John didn’t react to that line as expected. He’d heard it enough times to wish he had a pound for every time, but that was about it. He didn’t do his job for thanks, and sometimes felt they shouldn’t be for him anyways.
Coming from you however, it was different. He had the reaction he knew most people wanted. He knew from the heat in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, they were red.
Your fiancé, who’d appeared in the doorway behind you, stole his chance to answer.
“Yeah, thanks or whatever. (Y/N), come in here and figure out where you want your hair crap to go. I’m just going to toss it anywhere in a moment.”
“Oh, you could’ve just put it under the sink.” 
“You should be getting ready anyways, we have a dinner engagement.” He adjusted his shirt cuffs, eyeing John like he was picturing ways he could kill him.
John wanted to see him try just one.
“Bye John,” you gave a wave, a soft smile on your lips. “I’ll see you.”
You disappeared inside, leaving the two men in a stare down. There was a silent conversation at play, what your fiancé wanted to say was stated without a word. How much John cared about that was conveyed in the same manner.
Your fiancé broke first, slamming the door behind him. 
“We’ll see if I’ll stay away.” He muttered, going into his own place.
Over that first month, you two got to know each other well. Your fiance was often at work, and you turned to John with your questions as you tried to settle into your new home. You had no one else there, and even though John had planned to decompress in complete isolation, he couldn’t do that to you. Didn’t have a part of his being that wanted to. 
However, as John got to know you, he got to know your fiance too. Enough to know if he was ever going to murder someone outside of work, it’d be him.
It started with small things like what takeout you should go for, or which grocery store did he use? It seemed your fiance was useless.
One day, you needed help putting together your beauty table. You’d come to John, clearly embarrassed, and something told him you’d debated on asking him for a while. Your fiance refused, because you hadn’t paid attention when you were checking out, and didn’t select the construction help option.
“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me love. You mean to tell me that he never made a mistake?” John was already coming out of his apartment, ready to help.
“It’s stupid, but I don’t feel like arguing with him over it. We’re in an ok place right now.” you laughed awkwardly, leading him inside.
“Ok probably isn’t a place you want to be when you’re headed for the church.” it came out of his mouth before he could think about how it wasn’t his place.
He was so used to being blunt, and dealing out cold, hard facts or opinions. It always took him a minute to readjust to what was appropriate, but by then he was back on duty.
You looked stunned, clearly not expecting that from him. Your arms crossed defensively, giving him a side glance while you mulled over responding. 
He meant what he said, but he never would’ve delivered it to you that way, or at all, if he had thought two seconds more.
“‘M sorry. It’s really not my place is it?” he gestured to the back of the apartment. “Where do you need me?”
There were many more opportunities to spend time with you, and with them, opportunities to point out the toxicity he was seeing. It wasn’t in John’s nature to ignore obvious problems, he got paid to do the opposite. He had to resign himself every time so he didn’t upset you.
With every time he gave you directions, or answered a local cultural difference that confused you, you two lingered in each other’s presence a little longer. He wasn’t going to spoil that. 
Your requests started to leave the territory of furniture building and directions, and started to cross more into trying a new recipe, and how you could do better at fitting into your new home. Your conversations started to get deeper, more information about each other being shared.
There were times where you dropped off food, having made too much, or your fiance didn’t want what you cooked. John loved your cooking as it was, he normally lived off whatever he could grab and nuke, but he threw in extra enthusiasm for spite and your pretty smile. 
Sometimes John found reasons to come over to your place. 
“Share a cake love? Don’t get excited, I picked it up at the shops.” “Just bringing back your bowl.” “I can take a look at that window if maintenance is still laying about.”
And without fail, you made him stay every time. You got lonely, and you still knew very few people in the area outside of him. Your fiance didn’t seem to care, he felt he’d set you up with plenty of friends in his circle. John called them posh knobheads, and you couldn’t agree more. You had nothing in common with them, and you always wound up back with John to vent.
He found it easier to talk to you than he had anybody else, and from the never ending conversation between you two, he guessed you felt the same. The topic of the nature of your relationship was verboten, but that was fine by him. By that point, he was more interested in making you forget you even had a fiance. He really hadn’t even made an effort to do it, it just tilted that way, and he leaned into it.
You weren’t exactly stopping his flirtatious comments, in fact, you seemed to light up in ways he hadn’t seen until then.
Then came the outings. As your fiance got more negligent, you got bolder. It started with you taking a chance to invite John to a movie when you two bumped into each other in the mailroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to the cinema, and he couldn’t say what was playing if someone held a gun to his head, but ‘don’t see why not’ fell out of his mouth with no resistance.
Then it was shopping together, or you dragging him to a museum and him bullshitting his art knowledge to make you laugh. He didn’t normally spend his time off being this active socially. He decompressed, and prepared for the next assignment. Maybe he’d meet a woman at a pub and bang out some release before getting back into formation.
He’d wondered if he would regret doing things differently on his next deployment, but that stopped the first time someone mistook the two of you for a couple. That alone would’ve been enough for him to keep his delusions (that he definitely did not have) going, but it was the fact that you didn’t correct them. It happened again, and if he thought he imagined things, he hadn’t. You never corrected the person, just gave a coy smile and accepted the compliment.
Well if you didn’t, he certainly wasn’t going to.
The final time that John could say he only found you attractive, instead of wanting you completely, you’d come to him to ask him if he could drive you to a little farmer’s market outside of the city. Things hadn’t been going well with you and your fiance.
You didn’t have to tell John, he could attest to that himself. He’d heard your arguments in his place, and between the noise level, and trying to make sure it didn't go to a place where you weren’t safe, he wasn’t getting much sleep.
Your plan was to cook your fiance a favorite meal from his childhood, using nothing but farm fresh ingredients. You figured that all you needed to get things on track was a quiet night in, focused on reminding each other why you were engaged. John nearly bit through his tongue to keep himself from bringing up the fact that it seemed the workload on maintaining the relationship fell solely on your shoulders.
Instead, he shoved his bucket hat on his head, and lied about needing to head out that way anyways.
The car ride started out quiet on his part, with you filling in the conversation. Price may have flexed his fingertips in jealousy more times than he could count, but you were so goddamn beautiful when you were excited. It almost hurt to look at you head on, so he gave you side glances to show he was listening.
At the market, your excitement didn’t die down. In fact, it turned into infectious playfulness. You two teased each other, engaged in playful scams to get more samples, and dared each other to come up with crazier and crazier stories about yourselves for the owner of each stall you visited.
Price would die twice before he admitted that he imagined you were on a date a couple times during the day. You never brought your fiance up, and he had to remind you to check your grocery list more than once.
It was late afternoon when you returned to the car, laden with goodies and constructing inside jokes. John was enjoying his time with you so much, he almost forgot he had to tell you he was shipping out the following week. He didn’t know if you’d care so much as to need an announcement in advance, but he felt he should.
 He was worried about you, and he would think of you wherever he was bound to wind up, hoping you’d come to your senses and leave the garbage behind. Of course, he’d miss you…and he certainly wasn’t under any delusion that when you’d taken out the trash, maybe you’d consider him.
“Why’re you so quiet?” you’d squeezed his bicep to get his attention, and he instinctively pushed his arm into your hands, encouraging the touch.
It was quiet for a moment, before you slowly uncurled your fingertips, and placed your hands in your lap. His face flooded with embarrassed warmth. 
Had he gone too far by leaning into the physical?
Price white-knuckle-gripped the steering wheel, swallowing down what he thought was a rejection he had no right to be hurt about, and cleared his throat. “Right. I’m heading out next week, and it won’t be short. Just thought you should know.”
Whatever reaction he expected from you, it wasn’t the one you gave.
“What?” You placed a hand on your chest, and then rolled your eyes. “Well that’s great.”
John gave you a bewildered expression, and it must've shown, because you quickly straightened up and faced forward. 
“I don’t know about great, but it is my job. The one I was quite clear about when we first met.”
“Pull over.” you said so quickly, he wasn’t even sure you’d heard his response.
“What? Why? Are you feeling il-”
“No..just..please.” you gestured to the side of the road.
He obliged, brows drawn tight and carrying all of his questions. “Your boy is going to be home soon, and we still have a bit of a drive ahead of us. What-”
“I wanted to come here because of you.” you breathed out, still facing forward, your posture almost impossibly rigid.
“Me? You’re not making much sense (Y/N).” 
You huffed, and when you turned to him, your expression took his breath away. In that moment he could read every thought you were thinking, and it would’ve bowled him over if he wasn’t sitting.
He felt electricity beneath his skin, the feeling he got any time he was about to do something drastic and dangerous.
It was the little hidden thing in your eyes that he couldn’t place that gave him pause.
“I came here, because I wanted to get away with you for today. I needed to.” you turned your whole body to him. “I don’t give a fuck about fresh ingredients for him, he probably won’t eat it anyways.”
You huffed, rolling your eyes. “We agreed to start over. And I’m going to try, I really am, but…I still can’t stop feeling need.”
In the looming silence, all John could do was scratch his beard, and try not to look as stupid as he was sure he did. He knew what you were saying, what you were toeing at, but surely you were just venting. You couldn’t-
“S’not right love.” Now it was his turn to look ahead. “Not for him, fuck him. For you. You’re upset and you’re scared, and you're raw.”
“And I need this.” you breathed. “If you’re trying to protect me, stop. If you don’t want me in that way..ok, I’m a big gi-”
“Oooh,” his voice came from deep in his chest, baritone thrumming through the car. “That’s not it. I promise you, that’s.not.it.”
Your fingertips gently pulled his face in your direction. “You’re leaving me…and when you get back things are going to have to be different.”
There it was. John swallowed, hard. 
“I’m being selfish, but..I thought I’d have a little more time with you before..” Your eyes watered. “It’d be one thing if you really were just my friend, but that’s not right is it?”
John wiped at your eyes with his thumb before cupping his cheek in his hand. “No, it’s not.”
“Just one time.”
It was a struggle to say no to you, and that didn’t stop now. He pulled your mouth to his, hands gripping your shoulders in a subconscious effort to prove this was happening. You were in front of him, kissing him back as hard as he was kissing you.
He unbuckled you, and pulled you into his lap, sliding the seat back. 
“I’m gonna miss you.” you were crying now, and neither one of you did anything about the tears.
His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. “Oh, sweet girl. Why didn’t you meet me sooner?”
What transpired after was the most bittersweet moment he could recall. He had heartbreaks and troubled relationships before, but he’d never had to have a breakup with a woman he wasn’t sure he’d been seeing in the first place, but knew that he loved.
He took you twice in his car, before finally, the two of you could no longer ignore the setting sun and had to return home.
John remembered why he preferred to take a girl somewhere quickly, and then spend the rest of his leave in solitude, occasionally seeing a trusted friend. It wasn’t as fulfilling as what he had with you, but it didn’t hurt this deeply either.
He sat in his apartment for hours after he watched you disappear into your own. He didn’t even bother turning on a light when it got too dark, he just sat there, continuing to contemplate how things had gotten to be such a mess. How could he continue to pride himself on being the logical leader he thought he was, when he’d made such a mess of himself so quickly?
How was he supposed to forget you? How was he supposed to forget that he loved you, and that you loved him with another man’s ring on your finger?
The thought of seeing you, carrying your fiance’s child, and looking miserable during what should’ve been one of the happiest times of your life made Price leap from the couch. That familiar electricity raising every hair on his person to a point.
He didn’t know what he was doing, or what he was going to say, but he was moving like he’d planned it for months.
When he stepped into the hall, he paused.
You were sitting on the plush hall couch, eyes puffy, with a death grip on a pyrex dish. Your hair was perfectly styled, and you were wearing a low-cut silken dress that made him want to fall to his knees now that he knew what lay beneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, trying to curb your sniffles.
“I was right, he wouldn’t eat it. He got mad and left.”
“You should’ve made him wear it instead.” John’s fist clenched at his side, itching to do what he wanted from the moment he first saw him get short with you.
You shook your head, rising to your feet. “I don’t blame him this time. I didn’t make it for him, anymore than I shopped for it with him in mind, and I told him so.”
You held up the dish, and John saw it was his favorite. His idea of a perfect Sunday roast in one pot. Your meaning was clear.
“I just kept thinking, it shouldn’t be this hard. I mean, it shouldn’t be, right?” you stepped forward.
“No, it shouldn’t be.” He also took a step forward.
“It’s not that way with you.” Another step.
“I would hope not.” he also took another step
You stopped when all that separated the two of you was the dish.
“So this belongs to me then?” he was staring at the dish, but his hands gently grasped your wrists.
You, however, were looking directly at him when you breathed out. “Yes.”
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eilidh-eternal · 4 months
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Thinking about tattoo artist Ghost who notices you in the studio quite often. Who recognizes the signs of using tattoos as a thinly veiled coping mechanism and can’t help but think that there’s a… better… way for you to cope. Ways that he can help you with. Things he can teach you that don’t involve needles but would still leave his mark on your skin. 
You need him.
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You’ve just finished up your session with Soap, finalizing the payment with him at the front desk, when you feel a looming presence at your back.
Ghost.
“Um… hi?” He’s the only one of them you haven’t sat for. Over the last few months you’d worked your way through nearly the entire staff at the studio, amassing a collection of new pieces like a kid collecting happy meal toys in the summer–often and to the detriment of your bank account.
“You're with me next week.” His tone brooks no argument. “Soap, what do I have open next Saturday?”
“I can’t, I–”
“Ye’re open from two to close.”
“Book her. The full day.”
“What?!”
“Got somethin’ special drawn up that I’ve been holdin’ onto. We can make adjustments when you come in. See ya next weekend.“ He saunters back to his station without another word.
Well.
Despite the odd nature of the encounter, you go. ‘Just to see what he’s drawn up,’ you tell yourself. In actuality, you’d had a hell of a week and were itching, chomping at the bit, for the bite of a needle by the time the appointment came around. And damn him it’s good. Really fucking good. Fits your aesthetic perfectly and his suggested placement isn’t far off from where you would have chosen yourself.
Fuck it.
You let him do it. Follow him down the hall to the private room, nod when he tells you to get comfortable and that he just needs to grab one more thing from his station and he’ll be right back.
You’re stripped down to your panties and the oversized hoodie you brought in, big enough to drape and maneuver out of his way while maintaining a bit of modesty, when he comes back.
“You bring water? Somethin’ to eat during breaks?” he asks as he sets a water bottle of his own on the counter. You nod and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Need words, sweetheart.”
“Yes. I did.” 
Not the first time an artist has asked the question, but his insistence on a verbal answer is a curious deviation from your typical experience here. Soap certainly didn’t wait for your answer before he had his arm slung over your ass to ‘steady himself’ while needling a trail of stars down your spine a few weeks ago.
“Alright, let’s get you settled then. Down.’ He presses on your shoulder, pushing you down onto the reclined chair. “We doin it on the left or right?” His hands linger on either side of you, bent at the waist to hover over your frame.
“Uh, you said right would look best… with the other pieces? So um… yeah. The right.”
There’s a flicker behind the richness of his eyes. Something dark and smoky the seeps into the irises.
“Lookit you. Listen real well, don’t ya?” 
What?
He leaves you with mere milliseconds to process. “On your side. Let’s get you stenciled.” His hand trails along your ribs, glides over the bulky fabric of the hoodie and tugs. Pulls at the pocket on the front to get you moving. “Good girl,” he purrs when you comply, shifting onto your left side and folding your arms close to your chest. “Up.” He helps you lift your head and slides a pillow under you. Does the same with your knees, pillow pressed between them to stabilize your hips.
“Thanks…” It comes out in a dazed mumble and he simply hums, as if all of this is… normal.
It isn’t. You know that. Nothing about him says normal.
The mask. His insistence—no, his demand—that you book a session with him. The way his tone brooks no argument or excuse. How some baser instinct tells you to heed his demands. Traitorous fluttering of nerves in your stomach and the heat pooling between your legs.
The black nitrile gloves clinging to his hands like a second skin are cold against your leg. Makes you twitch when long fingers push the hem of your hoodie over your hip and hook underneath the narrow waistband of your thong. “Just moving this up a bit,” he says and pulls it up to your waist, elastic pulling taught against the crease of your thigh and digging into the skin. Pressing against your pulsing core. 
The cleanser is even colder and comes with no warning, but the warmth of him has begun to bleed through his gloves. Melts into your skin as he cleans his canvas and runs a hand over your hip in appraisal.
“Got a little fuzz,” he says more to himself than you, thumb swiping over the fine dusting of hair. The muscles in your back tense in an effort to fight against the shudder threatening to snake down your spine, skin burning beneath the massive hand that lingers on your thigh.
He’s precise about it, removing the hair with slow and even passes of the razor and going back over the area with disinfectant. “Doin’ so good for me, layin’ nice an’ still while I shave ya. Bet ya sit like a champ.”
Your eyes go wide, lips falling open in a silent gasp, and you’re thankful he’s currently bent over your hip and can’t see the shock written plain as day on your face. You blink. Force your brows to lower and snap your mouth shut before you say something stupid like ‘thank you.’
The stencil goes on in silence but you can feel his eyes on you. More precisely, on your face. Curious and observant. You’re so focused on not looking at him that you don’t hear him rise from his stool. Don’t register that he’s moved until he’s leaning over you and curling a finger under your chin to turn your face up towards the ceiling. Towards him.
“There she is. Let’s have a look, yeah?”
Why does he want to look at—?
The stencil. He means the stencil. He wants you to look at the stencil.
“Okay…”
He drops your chin but makes no move to pull away from you as you sit up on your elbows, twisting to get a look at the purple carbon adorning your hip and thigh. You straighten out your leg, move it this way and that, looking for any odd stretching or scrunching.
“It looks good. I like it there. It um… You were right. About it being a good fit.” When you look up at him he’s already staring down at you, eyes trained on your face rather than the stencil with a dark, inky quality to them. Pupils expanding and swallowing up the light in the room.
“Course. Knew I’d be right about ya.”
You blink and it’s gone. No more wisps of smoke swirling in amber coals. The heat in them abated by whatever he sees in you.
You have no idea what he sees in you.
He does, however, give you a reprieve when he straightens and moves to the counter to begin mixing ink while the stencil dries. 
The air around you feels colder when you settle back on your side, sapped of your warmth by small touches and lingering glances. Like he’s purposely stoked a fire in you just to take from and warm himself with.
“Seen you ‘round here a lot. Got quite the collection.” 
It doesn’t sound like a question, and you’re not sure if he’s expecting an answer, but you give him one anyway. Feels… wrong, not to.
“I like the work you guys do.” You’ve sat for all of them. John. Gaz. Soap. And now Ghost. Have their marks inked all over your body.
“That the only thing you like?” The broad expanse of his back is the only thing you can see, but you have a feeling that if you could see the sliver of his face visible behind the mask he’d have that same even stare he always has on the studio floor. 
“Gaz is nice to look at,” you offer, and hear him huff behind you.
“That so?”
“Soap has steady hands. They wander a bit, but his lines are the best I’ve seen. Tit for tat I suppose.”
“And Cap?”
“Who? Oh, you mean John?” 
“The old man ‘imself.” He turns then, arranging the ink on the rolling tray between the two of you, and you catch the dart of his eyes in your direction before they shift back to his station. “He doesn’t normally do the kinda work pretty things like you come looking for.”
“I- um…” He keeps tripping you up. Making you stumble over the words in your head with compliments and praise and firm hands and–
“You like the pain.” Your gaze jerks towards him, tracks his movements as he lowers himself down onto the stool. “Cap’s got a heavy hand,” he clarifies, but it’s too late for excuses. Your reaction only confirms what he already knows.
“That– I don’t… I don’t like it. It just…” His eyes are locked on you, simmering with something in the molten depths of them that reels you in against your will. Compels you to spill secret truths to a stranger. “It makes everything else quiet, for a little while…” You sink your teeth into your lower lip with the admission, eyes slipping away from the intensity burning in his to settle on a fleck in the wood grain of the cabinet.
Silence stretches long and thick between the two of you, the only sound in the room coming from the speakers spilling music out of the ceiling and the little clicks and taps of him preparing the various tips and needles for his machine. The wheels on his chair whine as they roll forward, forcing him into your field of vision once more.
Warmth floods your cheeks, rushes up your neck to your ears in a simmering wave of vulnerability, and you can't look away when he leans down to peer into your face. “There's other ways to make it quiet, ya know.”
You toy with the drawstring of your hood, debating how pathetic you’d look if you pulled it over your face and hid from his probing gaze the rest of this session.
“Stop.” Your fingers freeze. The sternness of his tone has your eyes flicking cautiously back to his, apology ready on your tongue, expecting further reprimand. “You’re thinkin’ too much.” 
Yes.
“That what you need, hm? Someone to make that pretty head take a break for a little while?”
Yes please. You offer him a timid nod.
“What’d I say about that?” he chides, folding his arms over his knees.
Your mouth feels dry, stuffed with cotton, and tongue heavy on its floor. “Sorry.” It comes out scratchy and an octave too high. Too needy. 
“‘S okay, sweetheart. You’re still learning the rules, but we’ll get ya there,” he croons, hand coming up to chuck you under your chin.
“Rules?” 
“Yes sweetheart, rules. You only have two for today. When I ask you a question, I need a verbal answer. Can you do that for me?” His voice carries with authority and his eyes remain fixed on yours, awaiting your acknowledgement.
“Yes.” A touch smoother this time, despite the tightness lingering in your throat.
“Good girl,” he purrs, petting a hand over your hair as he straightens and shifts further down towards your hip, pulling his tray along with him. You hear the buzzing of the machine when he begins fine tuning, testing the speed and picking up ink. 
“Your second rule,” he says as he leans forward, big, gloved hand coming to rest on your waist and the other hovering over the stencil, needle poised just above your skin. “If ya need a break, tell me. And–” He gives your waist a firm squeeze. “—squeeze this arm if ya need more. Got it?”
It takes a moment for the full weight of what he’s offering to sink in, for neurons and synapses to catch up with the realization of it.
“Got it.” You watch the mask pull taught over his mouth. He’s smiling.
“So good for me already,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your waist a fraction. “Let’s get started on your ink then, yeah?” 
The first pass of the needle traces a line on the outside of your thigh, a long, curved section, and already you can feel the quiet creeping in amid the bite of broken skin and the buzz of his warm hands pressed against you.
Next>>>
©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
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twirlyleafs · 3 months
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”Start of the season-drama”
Max Verstappen x reader
TW: angst, assumed cheating
~~~~
“I wish you could come with me.” You looked over at your boyfriend next to you by the kitchen counter. He didn’t meet your gaze, face contoured in concentration as he formed the ground beef into patties.
“I know baby.” You agreed, reaching for a bowl to put the cut cucumber in. Max grabbed it for you.
“Are you sure you can’t come with? Bahrain is nice.” He softly bumped his arm against yours, offering a playful smile. You chuckled, shaking your head.
“I would love to, you know that. But I have my thesis to write.”
“You can do that on the road.” He tried, but you both knew the answer. This conversation had been on repeat for the last few months and every time it ended with Max, somewhat disappointed, agreeing that it would be best if you stayed home. You weren’t surprised he tried one last time tonight.
“Even if I could Maxie, I still have to work and I can’t do that from Bahrain.” Even before he spoke up you knew what his next argument would be and if anything got under your skin, it was this.
“You don’t need to work though. You have me.” The way he said it so casually, like he always did, had your stomach twisting. You hated that he saw it like that, and no matter how many times you talked about it Max didn’t seem to understand your point of view. You clenched your jaw, physically biting your tongue not to say anything back. Instead you concentrated back on the work on the cutting board, brows slightly furrowed. Things were quiet for a few moments, Max being busy with the meat in the frying pan, and you had almost blocked him out completely, deep in your own thoughts, when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist. Your back was softly pulled flush against his chest and a second later he nudged the side of your head with his nose.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, pressing a few kisses against your cheek and down your shoulder. “Of course you have things to do here, I get that. I’m just going to miss you, that’s all.” You couldn’t help but smile, the frown melting of your face in a second. How could you ever stay annoyed at him when he was this cuddly and cute? You placed the knife down, turning around in his rather tight grip to face him. Max looked down at you, tilting his head slightly as to ask if he was forgiven. You just reached up to grab his cheeks, bringing his face down to yours for a kiss. You felt him smile against your lips.
“I’m going to miss you too.” You said when the two of you finally pulled apart. “But it’s just two weeks, right?”
“Hmm.” Max nodded, fingers pressing into the skin just above your hips. “Then I’ll come straight back home and I won’t leave your side for at least a few days.” You laughed at that, snaking your arms around his torso and leaning your head against his chest. Max pulled you even closer, a deep breath leaving his lips. You were going to miss him, but two weeks went fast and you told yourself that he’d be back, preferably with two wins under his belt, before you knew it.
~
The first race had been amazing. You had watched from home with some of your friends, absolutely ecstatic and somewhat tipsy as your boyfriend passed the finish line in first place what felt like hours ahead of the rest. When he called you after the win you had literally screamed into the phone how proud you were of him and hearing him laugh loudly on the other end had you smiling the whole night.
That was four days ago. You had been busy, work was more chaotic than normal and your limited freetime was spent in the library working on your thesis. Unfortunately, this also meant that you had missed a few of Maxs phone calls and when you’d called him back he had been busy instead. You texted a lot, but it had been a few days since you last heard his voice and you were starting to miss it.
Getting back late from the library, not at all happy with the work you had done, all you wanted to do was to call Max and have him tell you about his day. You knew he had been at the annual banquet in Jeddah last night, which he hated, and you were excited to hear all the gossip. You sunk down in the couch, making yourself comfortable as you searched up the results of the first practice round. You always wanted to know how things were going for Max before you spoke to him, partly to show him that you cared and partly because you wanted to know what mood he might be in. You smiled to yourself, pleased, when you saw him at the top of the rankings. Absentminded you begun to scroll down among the tweets, rolling your eyes at the people hating on Max and grinning proudly at all the people joking about how this season would just be win after win after win for him. Suddenly you stopped, a tweet written all in caps catching your eye.
MAX VERSTAPPEN LOOKING DAPPER WITH MYSTERIOUS BLONDE! DID HE LEAVE HIS GIRLFRIEND AT HOME?
You raised your eyebrows, not being able to stop yourself from clicking on the photos. Surely it was going to be something dumb, you were used to the rumors surrounding your boyfriend and you had simply learned to just tune them out. Scrolling through the pictures now, however, you could feel your stomach drop. It was blurry, but it was clearly Max. The photos were taken from far away but you saw him, dressed handsomely in a suit and bowtie, with his arms tightly wrapped around a tall blonde. Her back was turned against the camera so you couldn’t make out her face, but you didn’t recognize the body at all. The two of them seemed to be alone, standing outside what looked like the building where the banquet was held. In one picture Max was shown grabbing her cheeks, staring down at her. You squinted, as if that would help you distinguish his expression, but you couldn’t quite tell what was happening. You couldn’t deny that it sure looked like he was about to kiss her. Quickly locking your phone you dropped it in your lap, staring down at the black screen with wide eyes. That wasn’t just some rumor, something someone had claimed to see or made up. Those were real photos, photos of Max being way too close for comfort with someone who clearly wasn’t you. You knew you should calm down, take a step back until you could talk to him and let him explain. Surely there was an explanation that didn’t involve him actually cheating on you? Right? Before you had time to spiral further your phone lit up again, the picture of Max sleeping, drooling, in a cab you had as his contact photo illuminating your screen. Acting on reflex you picked it up, sliding your finger across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Baby!” He seemed surprised that you answered but quickly regained himself. “Am I disturbing you? Are you at home?”
“I just got home.” You answered, frowning at the shortness of your own tone. You weren’t sure how to approach him, you weren’t even sure what to say. Were you mad? Sad?
“Good. Feels like we’ve just missed each other the past few days.” Max shuffled around on the other end and you assumed he was laying in bed. With a content sigh he spoke again and you could hear the smile on his face. “How are you my love?”
“I’m good.” You mumbled, clicking on the speaker icon and placing your phone down in your lap.
“How’s the thesis coming along? I assume you just came from the library?”
“Hmm, yeah I did. It’s fine.” Max obviously picked something up in your voice because he was quiet for a few seconds before speaking up again.
“I hope you’re not spreading yourself too thin baby, you have to take a break sometimes.” His voice was full of concern and you don’t know if it was that or the pictures still haunting you but suddenly all you wanted was to be next to him. “Have you eaten today?”
“Actually,” you began, deciding what to say as the words were coming out of your mouth. “I was thinking about maybe coming to you? I think I can make it to the race if I leave tomorrow and-“ you stopped as you heard Max laugh on the other end, stomach twisting at the sound you usually loved. That was not the reaction you wanted.
“You know I miss you but that’s crazy baby.” He chuckled. You could feel the pressure take form behind your eyes. “You have things to do and I’ll be home in less than a week.”
“Yeah but I want to see you now. I thought you’d want that too.” You hated that his reaction, a very reasonable reaction at that, left you feeling so hurt.
“Of course I want to see you, but you shouldn’t come all the way here when we both know-“
“I shouldn’t?” His choice of words felt like a punch in the stomach and you frowned down at the phone. Max took a second too long to respond so you spoke again. “Why shouldn’t I? You don’t want me there?”
“What’s all this coming from?” The smile was far gone from his voice and now he just sounded bewildered. “You’re the one who opted to stay home because you had work to do.”
“Yeah well that was before I knew you’d cozy up with some other girl if I’m not there.”
You pressed your eyes shut, cringing at your own words the second they left your lips. You did not mean to put that out there like that. The line went quiet for a moment before Max broke the silence, voice as confused as it gets.
“What?”
You wanted to cry. “Nothing.”
“No, what did you say?”
“Nothing Max. Don’t worry about it.” You snapped, hating yourself more every time you opened your mouth. You really needed this conversation to be over, preferably before you started to cry. “I’m actually really tired, I think I’m-“
“No no no, you don’t just get to throw something like that at me and then hang up. What did you mean by that?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” You were rambling. “Just forget it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You heard Max say your name before you hung up, heart feeling like it was beating out of your chest.
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gyuswhore · 1 month
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Shut Up (don't)
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anniversary event [closed]
lee seokmin x reader
prompt(s): carrying on the argument between sloppy kisses and heavy make out
word count: 2.7k
warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), mean words are thrown at one another while they're fighting, heavy makeouts, fingering (f. rec), breast play, p in v, unprotected sex, soff ending bc im a sap
[a/n]: i have nothing to say. enjoy.
masterlist
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Nearly getting rearended, and then breaking the heel of your shoe, to becoming the receiving end of another plethora of snarky remarks from the department weasel; it was all beginning to spill over the rim of your too warm, too full cup. 
All you wanted was to eat a good meal in front of another mindless TV show and nap the weekend away in the arms of your favourite person. Hence why the excitement at your front door was overflowing, creaking the door open to find a darker than usual hallway. You can only slip off your broken shoes and deposit your keys and bag so quickly, barely considering the amount of noise you’re making with all the shuffling and clanging in the doorway. 
“Seok! Babe, are you home?” you raise your voice a little as you enter the kitchen, slamming the grocery bags down on the counter with a loud huff. You peek out the door into the dark halls, brows furrowed. 
Opting to put away the perishables first, you grunt as you stand back up after stuffing all the frozen packages into the freezer, hand supporting your lower back. You were more tired than you’d initally thought.
Shuffling into the living room, your turn on the lights, remaining confused as ever as to why they were off. Even in an empty house, at least one of the lights would remain on. 
You nearly jump out of your skin when you register the lump on the now visible couch, taking a moment to realise it was your boyfriend, still in the clothes he had left in this morning. 
He’s shifting, groaning as he comes around to reveal his face, eyes bleary and face slightly red from sleep. 
“Oh,” he grimaces as he realises you were the one to turn the lights back on. “You’re home.”
“Why are you sleeping on the couch? Have you eaten yet?” you ask your boyfriend who’s now attempting rub the sleep out of his eyes. 
“No,” he confirms, voice still scratchy. “I’m gonna change and go to bed.” 
“Wait, I did the groceries before coming home. I can make you your favourite. You can go to bed after you eat,” you insist. 
He doesn’t answer as he simply rises and makes his way towards the hall leading the bedroom. 
“Seok? Honey, I’ll be quick, I promise. Twenty minutes tops and then you can go to bed.”
Catching up to him, you grab his hand in an attempt to get him to look at you, which he does. Except he looks…annoyed? He brushes another hand across his hair and face, looking more exasperated by the second. 
“I’m not hungry,” he says, slower than usual. Like it was taking an effort to get the words out. “Now can you please just—”
“You can’t go to bed empty stomached, you’ll wake up with a headache!”
“You’re giving me a fucking headache right now.”
You freeze. 
On instinct, you drop his hand, letting it ball into fists at his side. He blinks for a long moment, pinching his nose bridge, before turning around entirely to continue his retreat back into the bedroom. 
It’s like you’ve snapped out of a daze when you register his retreating form, zero comment from either of you after the bomb he’d planted in the room. 
“You don’t get to say that to me and then walk away,” you say, and he’s still not stopping. “You aren’t the only one who’s had a shit day, at least I’m not being an ass about it.”
That seems to do it for him, turning around with furrowed brows and an open mouth that’s ready to shoot back. “This is your problem, you can’t leave things alone.” 
“I’m sorry that I care if my boyfriend’s starving himself?” Your voice comes out louder than intended, the heat of the situation creating an emerging buzz in your head. 
“Don’t care then! Your idea of helping is whatever you want done for you, have you considered that I just want to be left alone?” He tries to control his arms movements but they explode into some waving motion anyway, eyes meeting yours in a wide, angry, accusatory hold.
“Seokmin.” His name leaves your mouth in an unbelievable laugh. “Are you listening to yourself?”
“How can I over all that clanging and banging you do the minute you step foot into this house?!” 
“You know what?” you begin.
“God, just shut up, I can’t do this with you right now.”
“This is beginning to sound like you have a problem with me.”
“I just said—”
“No! Just fucking say it. Moving in together was a bad idea and you wish you’d never asked!” You know you sound hysterical, arms thrown over head as you fight the urge to push something over. 
“Stop it.”
“I’m trying to make this work with our schedules but if you’re gonna blow up anytime you don’t get your way—” 
Seokmin tries to shut you up again, only this time he succeeds. 
In the midst of your rampage he’d crossed the distance between the both of you, opting to slam his mouth onto yours instead of using his words. 
Both of his hands have gotten hold of your face, keeping you from moving your mouth in an way except against his own. He’s taken away your power, your hands come up to grasp his forearms. 
“Seok—” you start again, but he only plants his lips on you again, sliding his tongue at the seam of your mouth to intrude even further. 
You’re mad at him. It’s taking alot to remind yourself of that. He’s trying to shut you up. He doesn’t want to listen to you. He…
Even Seokmin, with all his other worldly breath control, can’t keep his mouth on your forever, leaving your swollen lips to let you both breathe for a moment. 
“What the fuck is this supposed to be doing?’ you ask, breathless but angry.
“Shutting you up,” he reponds, gripping your waist so hard it almost hurts, shoving your entire body right into his personal space. 
You aren’t any better than him, bringing your hands up to his hair, tugging at the strands just to have something to grip on to. 
“This isn’t over,” you mumble between wet, sloppy kisses, already half gone. 
“Like hell it isn’t,” Seokmin grunts, letting go only to pull you onto the warm couch, caging you between the armrest and his own overbearing body. He’s taking over you from all sides, the muddle of your mind unbecoming of the anger that coursed through you just minutes prior. 
Pairing that with your existing exhaustion, your mind seems to be skipping over most of the filler scenes that unfold. 
Your top is gone to wind before you can register his fingers working the buttons. His hands have reached underneath your tight skirt, fiddling with the waistband of your stockings. He’s struggling with the overlapping fabrics, the existing difficulty of handling stockings earning a dissatisfied grunt from his throat. 
Opening your eyes, shifting them to focus on Seokmin’s face, you don’t doubt you look just as fucked out as he does. Pupils dilated, hair dishevelled and sticking out from everywhere, clothes barely framing where they belong. He’s growing frustrated as he instead attempts to shuck your skirt off. 
“Just—” He cuts you off again, even as you try to help with the wretched zipper. 
“Not a word out of your mouth,” he says, almost like it’s a plea, shielded under his scratchy growl. “Not until I’m done.”
This is nothing like you’ve ever seen before, your sweet, gentle boyfriend had turned into some deep monster from hell, like the events of tonight unsheathed some unfed entity that only festered on its ignorance. Despite everything, you can’t seem to complain, enjoying every bit of this as every passing moment only stacks the already leaning tower. 
And when you thought he couldn’t get any more unhinged, you hear the distinct sound of a rip! 
He’s ripped your tights. 
“Seok, I just bought those!” you blurt before you can stop yourself. 
He doesn’t answer you this time, opting to let his fingers do the talking. You feel a distinct pressure on your hot core, and you’re immediately putty. Seokmin is rubbing slow circles over the damp crotch of your panties, steady, but just enough to have you bucking your hips uncontrollably every so couple seconds. Your breathing is loud, bordering whimpers as you squeeze your eyes shut. 
It’s criminal the way he pushes into your core, stuffing you with bulk of his finger and the fabric of your underwear. And just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, he removes hands entirely. 
You nearly scream, the ache becoming near unbearable. He’s shuffling around to take his clothes off but you couldn’t care less if he fucked you half dressed. He’s naked before you can do something about it yourself, immediately planting himself back on you. 
“Put that mouth to better use,” he whispers, bringing two of his fingers to your lips, letting them push past and rest on your tongue. You start sucking on them instantly, tongue running over his long, beautiful fingers, letting him shove them as far as you’d let him. 
When he relents, he only slips them somewhere else. You watch between your flushed bodies as his sticky, glistening fingers disappear, sliding inside your ready, coated walls. Hands finding purchase on the bulk of his shoulders, he lets you dig your nails into his pristine tan skin as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Throwing your head back you can only groan into the empty ceiling at the feeling. 
“God, Seok that feels so good.”
He goes faster, deeper, separating his fingers inside you to test your limits. Finding that spongy spot, he shows no signs of relenting, now pistoning into you. 
When he stops, you come round to watch him line his hard member up to your entrance, not giving you a moment to register the emptiness. Except, you stop him. 
“Wait,” you breathe out, pushing yourself on your elbows. 
“What?” he asks, like he’s been snapped out of a trance. You maintain eye contact as you push him into a sitting position on the couch, letting his back hit the plush of the pillows. You take the opportunity to slide out of your torn and tattered tights, feeling the muscle of his thighs as you sit on his lap. 
“Fuck,” he curses when he realises what you’re doing. 
You readjust, grabbing his hard shaft, pumping him slowly as you prepare to line him up to your entrance again. Pushing your chest into his face during the process, he wastes no time in latching his mouth over the lace of your bra, licking over the fabric, pushing the tip of his tongue right where your nipple was. 
It send waves of shocks right into your core, busying the tip of his cock to rub itself on your dropping hole, savouring the feeling. Seokmin’s thrown your bra away, his mouth now in full contact with your breasts, tongue flicking across the nipple as he nips and sucks to his heart’s content. His fingers flick over your other nipple, pinching and stimulating it just the same. The sight of his fingers is doing so much to you, enough to encourage you to sink into his cock with finality. 
It’s a stretch, but nothing you haven’t been practiced to handle. He has a hand low on your hips, guiding your ass to sit on him fully. When you move it’s easier, the pleasure returning in its waves and sparks. 
“Fuck, Seok,” you whimper, as you start moving faster, bouncing on his cock, ass slapping his thighs. 
You find a place holder behind you on his knee, reaching one of your hands back to clasp his skin, the other finds reprieve in his hair, mouth still sucking on your breast. 
His palm rests on your ass, guiding you up and down his shaft in a constant rhythm, moaning into the plump of your breast. Letting go of your nipple, he throws his head back in a guttural moan, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your walls engulfing him whole. He continues to play with the swell of your breasts, fondling and groping. 
Taking advantage of the access, you lean into neck, pressing kisses onto the expanse, suckling on a spot near his ear, savouring the salt of his skin on your tongue. Your hips continue to bounce on him, but inevitably slow as you feel the burn on your thighs and hips. 
One particular landing is felt with a harsh buck of Seokmin’s own hips and you realise with a loud moan that he’s meeting you halfway, finishing what you started. Soon he’s created a pace of his own, thrusting his well oiled hips into you so good it has you blinking away the gleam of stars. 
“Baby,” your voice comes out pleading, and he knows exactly what you’re trying to say. 
“Come, baby, it’s alright. Come all over me.”
Taking his words to your cunt, you oblige, letting yourself come undone. It’s loud, it’s desperate and it’s raw, needing to wrap your arms around him in a latch for support. He smells like him, and it’s making the high continue to wreck your body in waves that won’t end. 
Seokmin cums just as your coming down from your own high, tightening his hold on you as he rams his cock into your overstimulated cunt to get his own fill of pleasure. His thighs stutter beneath you, his sounds deep and loud.
By the time he’s done neither of you have enough air in your lungs to say a word, slumped over one another as you catch your breaths. 
Seokmin is the first to recover, and your fluttering eyelids drift open at the feeling of his lips on your shoulders, leaving butterfly kisses as you remain curled into his chest, head on the crook of his neck. 
You’re uncomfortably warm, but you cuddle into his chest closer, feeling the heat that radiates off of his body. His lips have found your temple, seemingly not caring for your sticky, sweaty skin as he trails his kisses to your cheek, right next to your ear. 
“I’m sorry for blowing up on you like that. I always want you to care, please forget about what I said,” he whispers into your ear, and it’s enough to have you shuffle impossibly closer into his naked chest. It’s like you’ve molded into each other’s skin. 
“I’m sorry too, for not being understand and for blowing up on you as well. I should’ve handled my emotions better.” You lift your head for a moment to plant a kiss on Seokmin’s jaw, and then find his lips. 
He kisses you so softly it hurts, pecks of affirmation between his “sorry”s. 
“I love you,” he mumbles into your lips, and you cup his jaw as he pulls away ever so slightly. 
You can see a stretch at the corner of his lips and you realise he’s smiling; you almost weep at the sight. 
Kissing him again, you whisper right back, “I love you more.”
“Please don’t ever leave.”
“Never.”
“Promise?” 
You let out a little giggle, “Promise. As long as you won’t ever leave me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, nothing but love in his eyes.
“We still have to talk about what happened,” you say, brushing the pad of your finger across his cheek. 
“I know, and we will,” he gulps. “I think we need to sleep on it.”
You agree quietly, but quip anyway. “If I had to take a shot, I’d bet it on all that pent up energy you just unleashed. I think you feel better right now.”
He exhales through his nose, slightly embarrassed at being called out, but replies nonetheless. “It…it probably was. I do feel less tense.”
“Hm,” you hum, bringing you arms to wrap around his neck, tucking your mouth right near his ear. You trace a lone finger down the center of his chest. 
“Since we’ve decided this is a topic for tomorrow, do you think you’ve got a little more frustration in there to let out?” 
He’s still sheathed inside you, and you can feel his length begin to harden. 
You don’t realise what’s happening as you feel yourself being jerked forward, suddenly suspended in his arms as he struts towards the bedroom. Arms tightened, a hint of a squeal escapes you, and you can only giggle as he tickles whispered promises into your neck. 
Promises that you can count on him to fulfill. 
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roanniom · 7 months
Note
I always like to hope your little drabbles might be inspired by your sweetie podcast guy 👀
Oh they kinda are inspired by him these days 👀
One for the Road
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, a whole lot of oral (f receiving)
“I like this shirt,” Eddie mumbles against your jaw, his fingers playing at the hem of your massive thrifted t shirt. You’re standing in the dappled morning sunlight warming his shitty little apartment kitchen. His hands roam your body with an urgency that belies the way he’d fucked you onto his messy sheets just thirty minutes prior.
“The day I got it I also got a Hellraiser t shirt. Huge. With a big picture of Pinhead on the chest,” you say proudly, smoothing a hand over said chest to indicate where the horror icon’s face would be. Eddie hones in on that one detail, of course, and cups your breasts through your shirt with a groan.
“Oh yeah? If it was that big did you cut the shirt up?”
You shake your head.
“No. I left it big and oversized. You know. Sexy,” you joke. Eddie nods slowly, still focusing all his attention on your tits through this particular shirt.
“Sexy. Oh yeah,” he mutters, completely distracted. He lifts the shirt slightly to reveal the feminine pair of boxers you’ve put on for your drive home. “These are fucking cute.”
“You think?” you ask, wiggling your hips cheekily.
“Yeah, I think,” mumbles against your neck before sucking on your earlobe. You go to say something else but his hand is now sliding under the waistband of your boxers. Within seconds he’s inside your panties and playing with the slick that’s gathered there.
“Eddieeee, I have to go,” you try to argue, but it turns into a gasping whine. Eddie ignores you. Or at least, he ignores your argument. He latches onto one of your nipples through your shirt and looks up at you pointedly to watch your face while he slides two fingers deep inside you. “Oh fuck…”
You don’t know how it happens. You really don’t. One minute you’d had your bag on your shoulder and you were half out the door, and in the next minute Eddie was sliding down to his knees, pushing you up against the wall at the entrance to his apartment. He pulls down your boxers and underwear before you can protest about your lateness any further, and he hooks your leg up over his shoulder before you can do more than grasp at his hair.
“Are you serious? I - oh god.”
Eddie’s mouth is on you and you should be aware of the fact that you’re moaning wantonly right by the door that leads to an inner hallway where all of his neighbors can probably hear you as they set out on their day.
Your bag starts slipping off your shoulder and the lights start flickering - he’d pushed you against the wall where the light switch is, so each time you move you find yourself clicking it on and off with your back.
“Eddie - oh. Eddie!” you try to call his attention to the awkward placement through your laughs and gasps, but he only seems vaguely annoyed by the distraction. He manhandles you over the the kitchen island and you grip at the counter, unsure what he has planned until he gets on his knees from behind you, gripping your hips and pulling your legs back apart so he can get to you with his mouth again.
“Holy fuck…” you yelp, completely overwhelmed by the stimulation. Eddie shoves two fingers deep inside of you again, thrusting and building up momentum until you find yourself forced up onto tiptoes.
You clutch at the counter and do your best to take the force of his thrusting - it feels so fucking good when he curves his fingers just like that - but you’re so overwhelmed you finally have to say something.
“Eddie. You’re making my legs shake! I can’t…” you pant.
You’re not sure what you expected him to do, but either way you’re surprised when he clambers to his feet and grabs you into his arms. Insecure and completely unused to being lifted, you let out a scream, but you’re only in the air long enough for him to deposit you onto one of the stools by the kitchen counter.
“This better for your legs?” Eddie asks, kissing your thighs while he spreads them and settles back on his knees between them.
“Yeah, I guess - Eddie!” you cry out at the feeling of his mouth on you yet again. His lips suction around your clit and he sucks. Hard. Your leg hooks over his shoulder again and your fingers thread through his hair pulling tightly as you hold on for dear life.
You don’t even have time to warn him. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You spasm around the fingers he’d some how managed to get back deep inside you at one point, and he laps you up as you rock your hips into his face. Thighs press into his ears while you ride out the feeling.
By the time your breathing has finally returned to normal, Eddie has already gotten up from the floor and started assembling your clothes and bag from where they’d been strewn about.
“You’re gonna be late for work, huh baby?” he asks, with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. A massive erection stands proud in his boxers and you laugh in spite of yourself, fully breathless.
“What the fuck was that, Munson?”
He leans forward to give you a kiss
“That was one for the road.”
~*~
-
—-
——
Thanks for reading, please comment and reblog to let me know what you think!
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sincerelybubbles · 16 days
Text
pairing: spencer reid x reader
word count: 603
warnings: angst :(
part two
it wasn't meant to be this way.
when you and spencer started dating, the honeymoon phase dripped into day-to-day life and activities, an easy transition that left you comfortable, happy, and (as you're now noticing) incredibly vulnerable.
"you can't act like my job, my life and hobbies and interests, are less important than what you do," you say, voice wet with tears.
spencer, frustrated, drags his hands through his hair, making it stand up straight, "my job objectively is!" he counters, loud, annoyed.
"sure, i'll give you that. whatever, that's not the point and you know it."
"i don't! i don't know the point because you don't have one. you just don't want to end the argument and not be right. you're impossible."
"this! this is the point," you say, gesturing between the two of you. you're both upset: you're on the verge of tears, he's disheveled from pacing and messing with his hair.
and still, you love him. you sort of hate that you do - he's being a dick, he can't see how he's hurting you, and he won't make any effort to see your side of the argument. but you love him, so much that your belly hurts with it.
"you don't listen when i come to you with things that are bothering me," you say, reaching forward to grab his arm as if the physical contact might make your point come across better. you can see in his face that he's gearing up to say something else and interrupt him before he can say anything. "all i said was that i didn't feel like you prioritized me and my life and you're the one who made it into work and hobbies.
"i can't sit here and constantly feel inferior. i know your job is important, i know you're saving lives. i don't say anything when i don't see you for weeks at a time, i don't say anything when you have to leave the second the phone rings, and i certainly haven't ever said anything to indicate that i think I'm somehow more important than all of that.
"all i'm asking is that you don't make me sit here and wonder why you're suddenly not making the effort you've had no problem making for the past 3 years and i'm begging you to stop making me feel like i'm crazy when i come to you with this shit!"
"maybe you feel crazy because you're acting crazy, blowing something up into nothing," spencer says, shaking his head at you. he tugs his arm away, taking a step back. "i'm done with this. i can't, i'm too busy to deal with you right now."
"deal with me?" you ask, anger flashing hot in your chest and racing away any tears that might have been ready to fall. "i'm not an item to check off of your to-do list, spencer."
"i can't do this right now," he sighs, turning away and pushing his hands through his hair one last time. he hesitates, back to you and head hung low, before adjusting his watch and walking away.
stunned, you listen as your front door opens and then clicks shut. you wait for him to come back, transform into your sweet boyfriend who would do anything to make sure you're happy. the doting man who spent his time memorizing everything about you so every date would be perfect, who always made time for you despite his job, who made you feel heard and important.
but you stand there, alone, for several minutes without any sign of him. mind racing, you fight the urge to cry.
damn wtf i made myself sad. sorry! hope u enjoyed :)
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gglitch1dd · 1 month
Note
Hello! Could you please do a prohero!husband!deku x reader after an argument and deku is apologizing for blowing up at his wife after a long day? BTW I love your works!!
It's been a Long Day.
Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
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Izuku walked through the door with a heavy sigh. He used his foot to close the door as he entered your shared apartment. His shoulders dropped at the fact that he was back home. He honestly was only looking forward to coming back here. He trudged past the entranceway, slipping off his shoes and putting on his slippers.
He started walking when he heard your voice.
"Izuku!" You let out, your head peaking out of the kitchen with a smile. He mustered a gentle smile for you despite not being in the mood. "You're back."
"I am." He answered back as he shuffled into the kitchen where you were busy.
"That's great! Because Mrs Hinata called and she wanted to know about the opening about the Little Heroes school and how we wanted to set up the dorm rooms." You started talking as he watched you just about finish lunch. He had gone to work at some unholy hour of night (or morning) and was only coming back now from a 18 hour shift. "I was thinking we can have two children in one room or do you think separate rooms are better?"
Izuku blinked, still not up to speed with what you were talking about. "Uh.."
"Do you think yellow is a good enough colour?"
"Well..."
"Who am I kidding, green is fine. Green, white, gold and black. Our colours should be fine. We can keep the girls rooms predominantly gold and white, and the boys rooms black and gold. Fine with you?"
"I guess-"
"Also Mr Fujita called about Angelica-Nina's vet bills."
Suddenly Izuku felt a headache. He bit back a groan as he put his a hand to his temple. It had been bothering him all morning and Lord knows he could use a nap. Normally he got headaches when he was drained or tired. "Hey sweetheart..." He started with his eyebrows furrowed. "Can we talk la-"
"He said that he sent you the bill but the pet insurance should cover at least sixty percent of that." You told him what you were told from the vet about your pet rabbit. You set out the dumplings, checking if they were ready.
Izuku scratched the back of his head. "I saw his email."
"Great! Your mother also called, she wanted to know whether or whether not we're coming over tomorrow? She's hosting the Bakugous remember?"
"The Bakugous? Then why is she asking us to come?" He asked as he moved to drop his bag on the table. He leaned back against the counter.
You paused for a moment before turning to look at him. You tilted your head confused. "Because she wants to? What's wrong with the Bakugous?"
Izuku let out a soft cynical chuckle as he kept his eyes closed. "What's wrong with the Bakugous? Well, nothing other than the fact that they are your ex's parents."
You paused as you grabbed a cloth, wiping your hands clean. "Yah, but they're good people they're very nice."
Izuku felt another pang of a headache hit him. He frowned. "No, Masaru is a good person, Mitsuki still wishes that you were with Katsuki."
You thought for a second. "No she doesn't."
"Yes she does."
"No, she doesn't."
"Y/N-"
"Izuku, the Bakugous and I are good friends. They designed our outfits for one of the galas we went to this year. I don't see what's the problem."
He sighed. "I-"
"Also you promised me that you'd make sure that you would fix the drawer upstairs." Another pang hit his head making him suck in a breath. He needs to lay down. He bit back a groan, everything feeling so loud. "I thought you'd get it done. And what about the rooms, you still haven't answered me on that. The opening is in two months and-"
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, Y/N, COULD YOU PLEASE STOP TALKING FOR LIKE 5 SECONDS PLEASE!" He shouted putting a hand to his head as he turned away from you for a moment.
He closed his eyes as he took a moment to let his headache subside. He took a deep breath before exhaling. It took him a moment before he finally felt like he could function again. He let out a sigh as he opened his eyes.
However you weren't there anymore. You were gone, out of the kitchen, leaving him alone. "Y/N?" He asked confused as he looked around. He didn't hear your voice answering him. He looked around for a moment. He paused when he realised he had blown up at you. He closed his eyes with a sigh. "Y/N! Y/N come back! I'm sorry." He apologised as he moved around to try and find you.
He didn't hear your steps going up the stairs so he knew you were still downstairs. He looked around, looking through open doors until he finally found you sitting in the rabbits' room, holding Valentino-Nino in your lap. The brown rabbit sat safely there allowing you to pet him.
Izuku stood at the doorway. "Y/N. I'm sorry." He apologised. You didn't respond. "I didn't mean it. Can you please not ignore me."
"I thought you wanted me to stop talking." You let out lowly.
Izuku turned around to put his back against the doorframe. He took a moment as he tried to ignore the throbbing in his head. "I'm sorry. I just had a long day and I've had this throbbing headache for the past few hours. I didn't mean to lash out at you like that." He said truthfully. You could hear how drained he was in his voice and you knew it was unlike Izuku to lash out at you even when he disagreed with you or was angry.
You looked down at your pet rabbit who had moved his head so that you would scratch under his chin. You sighed. "I'm sorry about your headache." You said softly as you looked down away from him. "I know you work so hard and I wasn't being considerate. I was just so excited to have you back home. I'm sorry."
Izuku's shoulders dropped as he looked down at you. He shook his head. "No sweetheart, no I'm sorry." He said seriously as he crouched down to sit down in front of you. He put a hand on your knee and you looked up to him. "You don't have to apologise. I love it when you're excited to see me and want to talk to me. Truly I do. You're the one easy thing in my day, my love." He gave you a genuine smile. "I just... it's been a long day."
You gave him a gentle smile. You pat his leg. "You should go freshen up and eat something so you can nap. I'm sure your headache is just because you're tired. They're just the body's way of saying we need rest or something's wrong" Your advice made Izuku sigh with a nod.
"That would be great."
You reached forward and placed a kiss on his face. "Okay."
-Glitch1d
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livwritesstuff · 1 month
Text
Steve comes home from a few hours of running errands with his and Eddie’s one-year-old daughter Moe to find Eddie pitching an absolute fit to his beleaguered book agent Paul over the phone.
Given how Eddie’s third book is about three months away from its release date, Steve has a pretty decent idea what the fit might be over.
The dreaded book tour.
Look – Steve doesn’t like it either. He didn’t like it back in ‘95 when Eddie’s first book came out. He didn’t like it in ‘99 with the second one either. He definitely won’t like it this time around, especially now with Moe in the picture. He actually likes having his partner around, believe it or not (and, if he’s honest, there’s still some baggage surrounding work-related travel and his parents’ relationship that he’s still trying to shake).
Still, he knows it’s a necessary evil of Eddie’s success and they’ll all survive it.
That’s Steve’s perspective anyways, even if Eddie doesn’t share it with him.
Eddie looks over as Steve drops a few bags of groceries onto the kitchen counter.
“Hang on, Paul – Steve just got back from absconding with my daughter,” Eddie says, and then he pulls the phone away from his ear, “Don’t put her down for a nap yet.”
Steve only shakes his head.
“Sorry, Paul,” he says, not raising his voice quite enough for Paul to actually hear him (Eddie hears him though, and that’s what matters) as he continues on his way up the stairs to get Moe ready for her nap (he’ll drag out the process as long as he can for Eddie’s sake – he’s not a total monster).
In the end, Eddie’s phone call ends no more than five minutes later.
“So what’s the damage?” Steve asks when Eddie makes his way into Moe’s room.
“Five weeks,” Eddie grumbles as he pulls Moe out of Steve’s arms. He presses a kiss to her chubby cheek and then adds, “Stops goddamn nation-wide.”
“Maybe stop writing so good and you wouldn’t have this issue,” Steve points out.
“Shut up – I’m not gonna do it. Paul can drop me, see if I care.”
“You’d care.”
Eddie’s shoulders slump.
“Yeah, I’d care,” he mutters, and then he shakes his head, “It’s entirely unfair that he’d expect me to leave home for over a month when he knows I have a little baby at home. I’m not doing it. She’ll be a whole teenager when I come back, Stevie.”
Steve looks at him, “It’s five weeks, love. She’ll probably still be the same shoe size.”
“I’ll miss our anniversary.”
“No, you won’t. It’s not ‘til the month after.”
“Okay, who’s side are you on here?”
“Paul’s, obviously.”
Eddie’s jaw drops as he feigns an affronted expression.
“I cannot believe that my beloved, my betrothed–”
“Betrothed?”
“–would side with my traitorous agent over–” 
“Ed, Paul was pretty forgiving when you slowed down writing for six months for the foster training stuff,” Steve points out (and it’s a point that actually manages to stop Eddie’s tirade – an impressive feat, he’s well aware), “And then he was really forgiving when you stopped completely for almost a year when Moe was born. Wasn’t this book supposed to come out, like, over a year ago? I feel like the least you can do is put up with a book tour given everything you’ve put him through.”
Eddie only blinks at him a moment – clearly trying to fathom any kind of counter-argument and coming up empty.
“Damn you,” he mutters.
“Can’t believe you used to be the guy who wanted to be a rockstar and go on year-long world tours,” Steve laughs, “Now you can’t even handle a month of the continental United States.”
“Watch your mouth, Harrington. Hey – maybe you and Moe can come and be the world’s cutest groupies.”
“We’ll see.”
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moonchildstyles · 4 months
Note
can we get a chiaroscuro blurb where maybe harry chases petal around? like a game but it takes a spicy turn 👀
wordcount: 8.4k+
—————
(Y/N) fumbled with her keys as she took the short scale of steps to the front door of the manor, her hands full of grocery bags she was too stubborn to make more than one trip for. She could feel her back sweating under the heavy cardigan dropped over her form, the sun far too bright and warm given the time of year. 
Just when she thought she had the grip right, her keys fell to her feet and out of reach. An exasperated huff fell from her lips. She should have just called Harry to help when she made it home.
Bending carefully to keep her grocery bags from tumbling out of her arms, she blindly reached around for her keys. Her fingers grazed the stoop with no such luck, her annoyance growing just as the heavy door to the manor swung open. 
"My love, is everything al—What are you doing on the ground?" Harry rushed, urgency entering his voice once he caught sight of her struggle, "What happened? Are you hurt?"
He was at her side in a blink, immediately taking the bags from her arms and steadying her. He took stock of her, a familiar expression striking his features; he was worried, near frantic attempting to find where she could have been injured.
"I'm okay," she shook her head, grateful for him taking some of the burden from her hands, "I just thought I wouldn't have to make more than one trip, then I dropped my keys and it's just—I don't know, it's too hot outside." 
A pinch creased Harry's brows, giving him wrinkles that would disappear the second he smoothed his features. "Why didn't you call for me? I would have helped you, petal." 
She shook her head, following after Harry with her keys in hand and only a single grocery bag into the manor. "It's too sunny. I thought I could make it, so I didn't want to make you come out if you didn't have to." 
"I can handle some sun, darling," he assured her, getting her safely inside the manor before he closed the door and sealed out the unseasonal sunshine, "Especially if it is for you." 
A small smile curled over her lips at his declaration. Of course he would say that it is worth it to potentially combust or go blind if it meant that he could help her bring her groceries in. 
It was sweet—and only a little stupid. 
Marching off to the kitchen, Harry didn't wait before he began unpacking all of her items and placing them within the cabinets and fridge. (Y/N) did little more than perching on the countertop, knowing that he wouldn't allow any kind of help since she had already gone through the trouble to shop herself (on his dime, though he never let her use that against him in the argument). She knew he could have it done in a matter of seconds, but he tended to refrain from using his supernatural abilities in moments like this, insisting she made him want to slow down and feel normal with her. That left her to watch as he bubbled around, unpacking with the reusable bags being folded away for another time. 
The sight brought her back to her first night at the manor, before she had even met him. The kitchen had been so clumsily stocked with the strangest variety of ingredients. Neither him nor Niall had any idea of what a human needed to make a proper meal. 
"Has the forecast changed at all for this afternoon?" (Y/N) asked, not bothering to take her eyes off him as he worked. 
A grim line settled on his lips. "Not as far as I know. I am starting to worry I won't be able to accompany you later." 
Her mouth edged into a soft pout. "Really?"
"'M afraid so, my love," he said, an apologetic quirk to his lips.
"I don't want to go if you can't come, though," (Y/N) argued, kicking her feet from where she sat on the counter. She was just a moment away from pulling out her phone and rain checking on Charlotte for another day. 
"You should still go, petal," Harry countered, putting away the last ingredient before he drifted to stand between her spread thighs, "Do not cancel on my account." 
"But the whole point of today was so you could meet my friends. It kind of defeats the purpose if you don't come with me." She would have to tell them he came down with something, and reschedule to a day with a promise of cloudy weather. 
His lips were still in a thin line when he settled his hands on her thighs, a chill seeping through the denim of her jeans. "I do not want you to miss out on your friends and your human activities on my account. I don't think it's fair." 
"I see Charlotte and the others plenty, H," she said, placing her own hands on his with her palms warming his skin, "Today really was going to mostly be about you. Plus, I know Charlotte kind of loves it when I cancel, so she can stay in with her boyfriend instead. They'll understand." 
With the pinch between his brows only winding tighter, (Y/N) knew he was far from convinced but when he peeked up at her through his lashes, she could tell he wasn't going to argue. "Only if you are sure, my love. Please, if you change your mind, do not feel bad about leaving me here. I want you to do whatever makes you happiest." 
"I will," she settled with a small smile, despite knowing that her happiest would be found right here in the manor with him. 
Curling her fingers around his own, she held onto his hands as she leant towards him and pressed a small kiss to his lips. 
It was Harry that chased after her when she began to pull away, ensuring she wasn't far before the chill of his mouth was once again buttoned to her own. She smiled into his kiss.
"Are you happy I'm staying home now?" she asked against his mouth, causing him to push his kiss to the corner of her mouth. 
He paused, his hands flexing around the full of her thighs. 
"Perhaps a little."
—————
"Let me finish this one section. Then I am all yours, petal." 
Harry's murmured voice was quiet in the middle of his studio, barely much louder than the swish of his brush over the canvas propped in front of his stool. His palette was full of color, the evidence of the last hour of work he'd put into the finishing layer of his latest piece. 
(Y/N) couldn't contain the heavy sigh she heaved as she draped herself over his form. Her arms dangled down over his shoulders, her face pressed cheek to cheek with his. A pout was on her lips as she watched him make changes so subtle she could barely even notice them. 
This wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she cancelled her day plans.
He'd been at this for what felt like forever, and (Y/N) had been itching to pry him away for at least the last twenty minutes. She could hardly stand still, let alone actually watch him. 
It was his fault, really. 
It was Harry who had used the early hours of the afternoon to make a batch of sugary cupcakes, complete with chocolate frosting and raspberry compote shoved in the middle. After being the taste tester during the making and stealing a couple once they were cooled, (Y/N) was now experiencing what she could only call a sugar high and wanted Harry's attention more than anything. (Though she wasn't up to admit it, the late afternoon latte she made out of boredom probably had more than just a little to do with the extra energy).
She impatiently watched him make another minute stroke, adding a barely there brush of white highlight on a bush. The sound of his brush swirling through paint on his palette had her jaw ticking.
"Are you done yet?"
A huff of laughter left Harry's lips. "Almost, my love. What has gotten into you, may I ask?" 
"I'm bored, and I want to play with you," she pouted, curling her arms around him in a clumsy hug. 
"Yeah?" he prompted, his smile audible, "What would you like to play, hm?" 
He was only teasing her, she was sure. He hadn't even stopped painted when he spoke. (Y/N) deflated, sinking into his shoulders. "I don't know." 
The change in her inflection had Harry pushing his palette to the side, his full attention landing on her as he twirled on his stool to face her. He collected her hands in his, the glamoured green of his eyes wavering in distress. 
"I didn't mean to upset you, love—I promise I was only teasing," he pleaded with her, canting his head with his cool hands squeezing hers. 
Maybe it was a bit awful of her, but she couldn't help herself but to poke just a hair further to get what she wanted. 
"It's okay," she told him, though she played up the moment with her mouth in a pout, "Will you hang out with me now? Please?" 
"Of course, my love," he rushed out, standing to the full of his height with his hands still wrapped around hers, "Anything you want, we will do. I am at your disposal." 
Perhaps she hadn't thought her little plan through quite as well as needed, (Y/N) realized. She didn't even know what she wanted to do, only knowing that she wanted to erase her boredom and she wanted Harry to be there when she did. 
Rolling her lips between her teeth, she flitted her eyes away from his own intense gaze. "You pick." 
"Me?" Harry pressed, serious expression on his features. His hands around hers shifted until he had their fingers laced together, his thumb running along the outside of hers.
(Y/N) shrugged, almost wishing she had let him continue painting instead of this. "I didn't think this far ahead." 
His face softened into a gentle smile, his brows loosening with  his eyes almost glimmering as he gazed at her. "Okay," he sounded, "I will think of something, then. Your only job is to tell me if you think you would have fun."
A furrow touched his brows much to (Y/N)'s delight. He always looked especially cute when he was concentrating like this. 
"I can do that," she smiled at him, happy to have his attention after the long afternoon. 
It only took a beat before Harry was flicking his gaze to match hers. "What is something humans do when they cannot go outside? What kind of activities would y'play when you were unable to go out?" 
The question had (Y/N) thinking back to the days before Harry—before the rain and the clouds were their best friends. "Probably read or watch a movie or something," she answered, "I have too much energy, though—none of that sounds fun." 
It was Harry's turn to puff his lips into a pout, his gaze dropping to their joined hands and growing distant with his thoughts whirring. "Okay," he drawled, "Are there any games that sound fun to you, petal?" 
Sifting through her memories like a rolodex, (Y/N) pinged on something she hadn't thought about in years. "When I was a kid," she started, "Me and my sister would play stupid things like tag or hide and seek if we couldn't play outside. I was never very good at it, but I think it could be fun." 
The smile that bloomed on his face told her that he had it all figured out then. "Let us do that, petal. We can still play even if it's only the two of us, yes?" 
"Hide and seek?" (Y/N) clarified, unable to keep her own lips from stretching into a grin as she saw his own. 
"Yes!" he bubbled, entirely too giddy over a childhood game, "That would be fun, wouldn't it? You would not be bored while playing, right?" 
A peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at his declaration, her energy bouncing off of his. "You're going to win every time, though. You'll always know where I am." 
"I swear I will not pay attention," he assured her, "No cheating, I promise." 
A bubbly smile drew (Y/N)'s features with soft curves. The manor was so big, this was the kind of place she would have killed to play such a game in when she was a kid. She just had to hope Harry wouldn't find her too easily when it was his turn. 
"Okay," (Y/N) sang, using her grip on his hands to lead him out of the studio, "But, you're hiding first."
"Now?" he blanched, looking taken aback as if he hadn't suggested this game himself. 
"Yes, now," (Y/N) laughed, pushing Harry out into the hallway with her ands untangling from his, "I'm going to start counting, and if you're not hiding, I still win if I catch you." 
(Y/N) didn't wait for a reaction, instead turning her back to him with her hands covering her eyes. She began counting loudly for him to hear. After a moment of lag, his footsteps finally began to retreat, disappearing in a blink by the time she had counted to fifteen. If not for her eyes already being closed, she would have rolled them; Harry was already using his abilities to his advantage despite just vowing not to cheat. She continued counting through her smile.
While (Y/N) couldn't remember the exact rule from her childhood, she was sure she didn't count for as long as she was supposed to. He didn't need that much time anyway, she decided. He'd probably already found a hiding space as soon as he disappeared. 
Entering into the hall and leaving the studio behind, she couldn't help that rush of adrenaline that always came with this kind of game. While she was technically the hunter in this scenario, she felt those nervous butterflies every time she peeked around a corner or peered into a dark room, anticipating the sight of Harry waiting for her. It didn't help that he could be completely silent when he wanted, leaving her with no warning of where he would spring up. 
Her search took her through much of the first floor before she grew antsy and trekked up the staircase towards his wing of the manor. While he didn't spend too much time in his bedroom any more after moving into her lighter chambers, it was still a space he knew better than anywhere else. 
Though much of the decor had shifted in the house, leaving behind some of the more grotesque paintings and ominous sculptures, this wing of the manor still contained those relics of the past. She had insisted that he keep his space as he had it, not wanting him to change everything just because she was now a part of his life. That left her padding down the dark hallway with the blank white eyes of the demonic cherubs following after her. Sobbing angels and puddles of blood littered the backgrounds of these scenes, taking (Y/N) back to the early days when she had first arrived at the manor. 
Curling her sweater sleeves over her hands against a phantom chill in the corridor, she peeked into the various rooms lining the hall. Her heart beat heavy in her ears every time she pulled open a door, expecting to see Harry's pale features shining through the dark. Her paced breathing and footsteps were the only other sounds to be heard in the silent passage. 
She saved his bedroom for last, this being the only room she was actually familiar with in the hall. Her stomach was flooded with butterflies as she twisted the knob, pushing open the door before crossing the threshold into the chilly room. Goosebumps pricked her skin as she stepped inside, not bothering to flick on the lights as if that would break the effect of the game—as if she wasn't starting to actually grow spooked. 
His room was still decked in velvet and silk, golden and black features streaming throughout. She could still clearly recall the night she had tucked herself under the heavy duvet, waiting out the monsters that had called to her outside. She remembered the way Harry had tried to soothe her in the night, when her sleep had grown restless. How that moment had felt like a dream only for it to be one of the first pages in their story.
Her breath caught in her throat when she swore she saw a shadow move behind the drawn curtains. 
Stepping on silent feet, she ventured further into his bedroom, hesitantly peeking around his wardrobe and even chancing a look inside. Each attempt was fruitless as she changed her direction towards the bathroom attached to the room. 
There was a static in the air, the kind that made her sure there was someone else sharing this space with her, but there was no Harry to be seen. The hinges of the bathroom door creaked just as she felt a set of hands land on her shoulder. 
"Found you." 
Harry's breath washed over the side of her neck, a shiver running down her spine at the same time she startled in her spot. Her heart skyrocketed to her throat, beating heavy behind her ribs and echoing in her ears.
Spinning to face him with her hand to her neck and mouth dropped in a gasp, she looked to him with accusing eyes. "You scared me! I'm supposed to be finding you!" 
"I'm sorry," he said through an amused smile that did nothing for his point, "You walked past me twice, petal. I couldn't wait any longer." 
Settling in her skin, (Y/N) was able to pout over her lost game. "I would have found you." 
"I am sure y'would have, my love, but now y'can relax. I could hear your heart beating like you were running a marathon." 
Sometimes she forgot just how in tune with her body he was; he knew everything, many of them she barely even noticed herself. Nothing was overlooked. 
"I was right to be scared," she countered, her skin warming as he dropped his hands from her shoulders to follow the length of her arms down to her hands, "You ended up scaring me just like I thought you would." 
"Darling," he drawled, ducking his head to be level with her gaze, "I really didn't mean to—I was hoping I would make you laugh, that's all." 
Collecting her into his arms, Harry hugged her against his chest in apology. As much as she wanted to believe him, (Y/N) could still feel that smile of his, complete with both dimples, as he tucked his face into the warmth of her neck. 
"It's okay, H," she murmured, nonetheless reciprocating his hug with her arms around his neck. He sunk into her hold, heavy and adoring as he relaxed. With her mouth by his ear, she whispered, "Your turn." 
With that, she pushed off of him, laughter spilling from her lips as she scuttled out of his bedroom. Heading towards the staircase at the end of the corridor, she turned around with a beaming smile just to see him looking after her like she thought he would. The sight made her grin that much larger. 
"Start counting—and no cheating!" 
All but sprinting through the manor, (Y/N) left him behind, finally working out that giddy energy she'd been holding onto through the afternoon. While she knew there was little chance that this was going to be a very fair game given the fact that he couldn't turn off his senses, she still wanted to have fun and see if she could confuse him and have even a minute chance at winning. 
In an attempt to play dirty, she ran around the manor, traipsing through the kitchen, her bedroom, the art studio, any door she could get through without wasting too much time to leave her scent any and everywhere. Her heartbeat and breathing were going to be her giveaways, but this could buy her time if Harry fell for it. 
By the time she knew she was closing in on the remainder of her time, she settled on hiding in the laundry room. The room had two entrances—one opening to what used to be considered a maid's quarters, and the other out into the hallway. Leaving the door to the hallway open in hopes of through him off, she tucked herself out of sight. She fixed her eyes on the slight crack in the open door with the maid's entrance to her back. 
The longer (Y/N) stayed tucked away, the more that familiar anticipation crept in. Though, instead of being the hunter, she was now the hunted, sitting like a duck as she waited to be caught. The worst part was how silent Harry would undoubtedly be—she wouldn't even know she had been found until he had his hands on her. 
Keeping her eyes fixed to the crack in the door, (Y/N) waited. It took everything to keep from wriggling and giving away her spot, despite the growing buzz in her stomach that urged her to run or use the restroom (the juvenile urge being one she only really felt while playing this game, she realized). He must be staying as true as he could to his vow of no cheating since he was taking his time to make it through the manor, his speed being left in his bedroom. 
Out of nowhere, there was a creak from a floorboard heard down the hallway. (Y/N) clamped her mouth shut, pacing her breathing as if that would help. At least she knew where he was now. 
Her gaze never strayed from where she could see just a sliver out into the hall, waiting to see the green knit of his sweater. The longer she waited, the harder her heart beat. There was no other creak or sound of movement telling her where he could have retreated. 
She rolled her lips between her teeth. Could she chance a shift in her spot, just to see I she could spot him elsewhere?
A breath too late, from the corner of her eye she saw a familiar green sweater and pale features. 
"Harry, no," she laughed right as he caught her with his hands landing on the soft curve of her waist, "You cheated!" 
Tugging her to his chest, Harry pulled her out of hiding and right to him. A wondrous light had settled in his eyes as he took in her laughter. "How did I cheat? I gave you plenty of time, petal." 
"You're not allowed to be so quiet," she argued, already pulling away from his embrace, "Go hide, it's my turn." 
Harry didn't let her get very far before he was pulling her back to his chest, dipping his head down and leveling his gaze with hers. "No, I won. I found you," he smiled, tipping his chin to press his lips to the soft of hers.
(Y/N) drew away first, keeping herself from getting distracted. Energy was still trickling through her system, she didn't want to stop now. "I know, so it's my turn again." 
Chasing after her, another kiss was planted over her mouth. He spoke against her lips, "No, I win. I get m'prize now." 
She laughed into his kiss, Harry swallowing the sound between his parted lips. "Your prize?" 
Pulling away just enough to match her gaze with his nose bushing hers, amusement sparkled in his eyes. "Are you not my winnings?" 
A spark bubbled under her skin, meeting with lingering butterflies that had her slipping out of his arms. He was always going to win in the end, but she was going to get in as many rounds as she could before then. 
"Fine," she relented, shooting him an excitable smile as she bounced on her feet, "but you have to catch me first." 
With that, she shot out of the laundry room, slipping out of his reach. A bright smile was on her lips as she pictured the look on she had undoubtedly left on his face. It wasn't until she had ran her way down the hall, reaching a corner that she peered over her shoulder. 
Harry had only followed her far enough to be peeking out into the corridor, a furrow to his brow and slight quirk to his lips.  "Where do you think you're going?"
"I don't know!" she giggled, skidding around the corner before popping her head around to peek at him once more, "And, no cheating!" 
She heard his laugh as she sped down the winding hall and towards the staircase. There was no clear destination in mind, just knowing that she wanted to make a little bit of trouble for him before she was caught. 
The fact that he hadn't reached her already told her that he had listened to her rules, but that didn't mean he was very far behind if the sound of his rapid footsteps was anything to go by. 
By the time she made it to the sitting room, murals of the heavens watching as she raced through, she could hear Harry's barely a heartbeat behind her. Daring to peek over her shoulder, she could see him descending the stairs, a furrow to his brow until he caught her looking. Then, he had a splitting grin on his face.
A giddy peal of laughter fell from her lips as she ran harder from him, feeling that adrenaline leak into her system knowing that he was right there. It would be so easy for him to use his supernatural traits and catch her before she took her next step, but he was letting her keep her little game up. He was enjoying the chase.
He followed her into the kitchen where she slid her socked feet across the floor, catching her balance before she could tumble to the floor. The close call had just that much more energy hitting her system.
"Be careful, petal," Harry scolded her, having just barely caught her near miss. 
"No," she laughed, knowing she sounded a bit like a petulant child before she was off again. She could hear his own huff of laughter from where she left him behind. 
It didn't take long before she felt the stretch of Harry's fingers graze the back of her sweater, the beats of his feet just behind her. She yelped at the touch, instinctively trying to throw him off by zagging towards the stairs once more. Before she could lead him up, he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her away from the steps. 
"We are not going to run up the stairs like this, petal," he laughed, not even a little out of breath as he tucked her back to his chest. 
"You cheated at the end," she accused in a pant, laughing as she tilted her head back to look up at him.
His features were upside down from where she gazed down at her, smug smile on his lips. "Perhaps, but I still win." 
Before she could argue, he had her spun around in his arms. The world spun around her as Harry threw her over his shoulder, her hips settled on the cuff of his shoulder with her arms dangling down his back and legs kicking in front of him. His arm created a bar across the backs of her thighs, keeping her steady as she wriggled over him.
"I get to take you away now, petal," he declared, starting towards the stairs on much more steady feet this time, "No more running from me." 
"I thought you said we were going to play whatever I wanted today," she faux-whined, clinging to him as he reached the landing of the second level. 
"I think you'll like this break from your game, puppy," he answered simply. 
She was sure they both felt the change in the pace of her heart then. With that one word, she knew he was right. She was going to enjoy whatever game he wanted to put on now. 
Pushing into their bedroom, (Y/N) was unceremoniously plopped onto the bed, unmade bedding rustling around her. The mattress bounced under her back just as Harry settled followed, crawling to the middle of the bed to sit himself between her thighs. 
His weight had her sinking into the plush sheets with her thighs spread wide to accept his hips against her own. A heady bulge pressed against her core as he buried his face against her neck. The tip of his nose skimmed over the column of her throat, her skin breaking into goosebumps at the touch. She could feel the smile curling on his lips at her reaction.
Bringing her hands up to tangle through his hair, she hiked her thigh around the cuff of his hip. The chill of his lips held that much more of an effect on her when he pressed them o her heated throat. 
"What's gotten into you?" she asked, preening under the attention.
Harry's response came in between the smattering of kisses he gave to her neck, the scratch of his teeth sending a shiver down her spine. "I liked chasing you," he murmured against her skin, words melting into her pores, "Jus' wanted to catch you and take you away." 
(Y/N) felt breathless at his admission. That wasn't the intended effect she had been going for with her game, but she couldn't say she didn't like it.
"Take me away to do what?" she pressed, wanting nothing more than to have his voice wash over her with every minute detail that came to mind. 
"To fuck you, puppy," he answered simply, taking her breath away when he scraped his teeth against the well-bitten spot on her neck. "You know that."
Her reaction was enough to spur him on as he sucked a mark onto the hollow of her throat. Her fingers coiled in his curls, arching into him with her head tipping to the side to give him more skin to roam. Harry happily took advantage, teasing her with nips at the curve of her neck once he was satisfied with the faint mark he left behind on her skin.
"You want that too, puppy?" Harry murmured against her throat, the full of his lips pillowing over the goosebumps on her skin, "Want me to fuck you?" 
She didn't even think before she was nodding as best she could with her cheek pressed to the mattress, her mouth dropped in a breathless gasp. Harry's smug smile could be felt against her neck before he drew back, matching her eyes with his own intense gaze.
"Say it." 
Her heart hammered against her rib cage, her thighs squeezing around his hips. How her stupid game of hide and seek led to this, she wasn't sure, but she was willing to do it again every day if this was the kind of effect it had on Harry. 
When she didn't immediately answer him, Harry pulled one of his hands up and lightly tapped on her warm cheek with his three middle fingers. 
"C'mon, puppy. I wanna hear y'say it." 
Though it was far from the filthiest thing she's said for him or he's said to her, she still felt her skin warm and throat bob as she followed his instruction. 
"I want you to fuck me, Harry." 
His eyes fell to her lips, watching her mouth form the words and her breathless voice carry them out. There was a note of pride in his gaze as he took in her obedience. 
"I can do that for you, petal." 
Ducking his head down, he smeared his lips against hers, tongue slipping inside her mouth and sampling a taste of her own. (Y/N) raked her fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp as she leant into every bit of affection he offered. She locked her thighs around his hips, every sweep of his tongue causing a pulse of the muscles. 
Wordlessly, he slipped his arms around her cradling her to him just before he rolled them over in the tufts of their bedding. In a breath, without having separated from their kiss, he had placed himself underneath her form. (Y/N) sat in his lap, knees bracketing his hips with Harry's legs bent at the knee behind her to keep her steady in her place. Once she caught up with her body, she startled, instinctively reaching to place her palms on his shoulders as she drew away from his mouth with her kiss-swollen lips in a gape. 
Harry's pupils were blown wide as he looked up at her, his bottom lip fit snugly between his teeth. "Haven't had you on top in a while, huh, puppy?" 
Despite talking as if he expected an answer from her, Harry rocked his hips underneath hers, effectively robbing any chance of speech. (Y/N) could only shake her head—it really had been a while since she'd been the one above. 
Pleased with her eager breathlessness, Harry dropped his hand to fit the curve of her waist, a slight flex of his fingers pushing dents into the soft skin. "Show me how you're going to ride me, petal. I want to see you to work for my cock." 
He spoke with no reservations, commanding with all the affection in the world embedded in his tone. There was no way she could say no to that. She wanted to give him everything just as much as he did for her.
Digging her fingertips into the broad of his shoulders, she steadied herself with her knees on either side of him. His legs behind her were the easiest way to keep herself steady as she started rocking herself on his lap, using his thighs to lean against with every roll of her hips.. The bulge of his cock pressed headily against her core with each brush, her stomach tightening along with her breathless lungs. 
"Y'can do better than that, darling," he taunted, his voice playfully mocking, "I know you don't expect me to be gentle today, right? Not after y'made me chase you around just to get you all pretty in my lap. Gonna take more than this to get my cock in you." 
Taking advantage of his grip on her waist, Harry took over, bouncing her on his lap as if to show what he was looking for from her. The rhythm of her grinding was dismissed as he pumped her over his cock, his thighs spreading at her back as her ass dropped into his lap over and over, his cock pressing directly against her clit through the fabric of her pants. Small moans managed to escape from (Y/N)'s throat even with the squeeze of her lungs. 
"This is better, right, puppy?" 
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she breathed, her eyes fluttering to a close. It was better than her grinding, but nowhere near as satisfying as stuffing his cock inside. "More, pl-please." 
His lips curled her words. "Y'think you're ready to do this on m'cock? Even if I don't help you?" 
The nod of her head was automatic, no extra thought given to whatever parameters he gave her. She could make anything work as long as she got out of her clothes and had her pussy full of him.
Harry stopped bouncing her then, his hands stilling as he kept her from moving herself. (Y/N) wanted to whine, to complain that he had stopped her just as he shushed her with a kiss, leaning up to meet her lips. 
"Do not pout, puppy. Can't fuck y'through my clothes, can I? At least not the way y'like." 
With that, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to climb off his lap and rid herself of her clothes. Her sweater and pants became a messy pile on the floor with her panties soon following. She heard a soft laugh sound from behind her when she flung her bra onto the floor in her haste. Despite the chill glancing over her skin, (Y/N) didn't wait before crawling back into Harry's just-as-cold embrace. 
He welcomed her back into his lap readily, his cock hard between his thighs. She felt her own core tighten at the sight of his blocked muscles, the creamy pallor of his skin making his tattoos look that much darker. His gaze was its own aphrodisiac as he pinned his eyes to her form kneeling over his lap, drinking her in just as much as she did him. 
"So gorgeous, darling," he told her, his voice a gentle coo compared to the hard lines of his body, "If I could dream at all, it would be of you. You know that, right?" 
"I dream of you, every night," she told him sweetly as if she wasn't inches above his hardened cock, her center slick and waiting for him. 
"Good dreams?" he asked, just as he always did with a dimpled smile on his lips. 
"The best," she declared, fitting her hands on his shoulders with her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. 
"Give me a kiss, puppy," he crooned, tipping his chin just right to give her access to his lips. 
Pressing her mouth to his, Harry took the lead with his hands cupping the full of her hips. He welcomed the warmth of her kiss, swiping his tongue over hers with the slick parting sounds of their lips filling the quiet bedroom. 
"Ready to take me, puppy?" Harry breathed against her lips, unwilling to pull too far away. 
"Please," was (Y/N)'s cooed response before melding her lips to his once more. 
Using his hold on her hips, Harry eased (Y/N) onto his cock. He fit the tip inside her wet center, swallowing the gasp she let out against his mouth. Her hands on his shoulders were tight as he helped her sink down his length. Her toes curled on either side of his form, her thighs clenching the further inside he pushed. Harry took his time, leaving (Y/N) to feel every inch of him with every spread of her walls to let him in. 
Once he bottomed out, the trimmed thatch of hair at his base pressing to her clit and his balls patting her ass, (Y/N) felt her insides pulse around him, her stomach tight in her middle. Harry's hands on her sides tightened, denting the soft flesh with his fingertips. 
"Feel good, puppy?" he murmured with a strain, pausing as he let her adjust to him, "Full?" 
"Uh-huh," she mindlessly answered, swearing she could feel him jump against her walls, "So full." 
A moan bubbled up from his chest, low and rumbling. He trailed his lips from her mouth to the soft apple of her cheek, basking in her warmth as he reflected it back. His lips were a cool point of clarity against her skin, his nose skimming the height of her cheekbone. He planted his line of kisses until he landed at the space just before her ear. 
"Ready for me to fuck you, puppy? Jus' like I promised?" he murmured into her ear, gently shifting his hips under hers as if to remind her he was still there. 
The only response he seemed to need was the soft coo of his name that fell from her mouth, soft and wanting. As if there were any world that existed where she denied his offer. 
Harry began to bounce her on his lap, his hands tight on her hips as her mouth dropped into a wordless gape. The thrusts he helped her make were short and shallow, lifting her only halfway off his cock before she was slammed down once more, her clit nudging his base with his tip hitting far walls she decided only existed for him. Her breathing came out in soft huffs every time her hips settled against his in soft slaps. 
He attempted to smatter more kisses against her cheek, but was stopped short in his own pleasure. She could feel the soft gape of his lips against her skin, the length of his lashes grazing her cheek as he clamped them shut while falling into the feel of her. 
Despite his early threat of leaving her to do the work all by herself, she barely had to do anything more than take it as he rocked his hips to meet the thrusts he was curating with her in his lap. She could feel her breasts moving with every thrust, peaks hardened as she attempted to draw herself closer to his chest and feel more of his chilled skin against her. 
"Harry, I—" she choked out, her voice dying in her throat as she threw her head back after a particularly harsh thrust of his hips against hers. 
"I know, petal, I know," he murmured, gaining some of his composure as he dropped his mouth to her throat. It was there that he could feel the thrum of her pulse, just under the soft skin he was accustomed to sinking his teeth into and leaving bruised and delicate in his wake. "I've got you, puppy. Gonna make me cum, you know that?" 
Her thighs clenched at the thought of him cumming inside her, feeling that warmth leak through her system. Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders, drawing him that much closer to her. 
"You want that? Want me to cum inside you? Make you mine again?" 
He asked these things as if she could answer—as if she had half the mind to say anything other than a pathetic moan or a clench of her hands over his body. Of course she wanted that; of course she wanted to feel him cum inside her and stake his claim. She wanted anything he was willing to give. 
"Tell me, puppy," Harry commanded, his gentle tone forgone for the moment as his grip on her hips harshened, "Not gonna let you cum with me if y'don't talk to me." 
"I want that, I want that," she rushed out, unwilling to test his threat, "Want you to cum in me, H. Please." 
"Good girl, pup. Always doing what I say, " he murmured, quietly praising her as if she couldn't hear him. "So, so, so good. Gonna make me cum so hard—shit." 
One of his hands slipped from her hip, fitting between their bodies before he pressed his fingers to the bud of her clit. The first touch of his cold fingertips took her breath, stunting her lungs with her mouth dropping open in a soundless moan. Harry continued his relentless thrusting, the rhythm deep and consistent, adding to the twisting feeling of her clit being circled. Despite Harry being the one that had wanted this, dragging her to their bedroom in the first place, she doubted he would be the first to finish under these circumstances.
Tracing one of her hands up from the shelf of his shoulder, she laced her fingers through the curls on her back of his head. It took all her attention to keep herself from growing distracted once she curled her fingers through the waves in a firm grip. Tipping her head to the side, she urged him to the soft skin of her throat. 
"H-Harry, please," she begged, hoping he would understand what she wanted without having to waste the time to spell it out. 
A heavy moan fell from his lips when he saw what she was directing him towards. His cock jumped in her pussy, his tip pressing headily against the ridges of her walls, his hips directing a particularly harsh thrust against hers, splitting her open that much more.
"Y'want me to bite you, darling? Fuck, you're so sexy, puppy." 
She didn't need to do anything more than pathetically breathe out a small uh-huh before she felt that faint scratch of his teeth over the delicate skin. A shudder traveled down her spine, the rhythm of Harry's thrusting not even skipping a beat. 
"Hold onto me, puppy," Harry murmured just a breath before she felt the slice of his teeth sinking into her skin. 
For the first time since pushing inside her, the rocking of his hips stuttered in their curated pace. Bottomed out, he rolled his hips into her with her clit still being prodded by his fingertips. The initial sting of his teeth lasted barely a heartbeat for (Y/N) before she was flooded with the euphoria Harry was already experiencing. Whatever it was that made his bite so dizzying was doing its job by melting her into his hold, turning her completely pliant and ready to be any and everything he wanted. The soft press of his lips around the bite was the cut of clarity she needed in that moment, otherwise she would have been lost in the sound of his low moan and the all encompassing hold he had on her. 
(Y/N)'s head was elsewhere, focusing only on him as she felt her stomach tighten with every pull of blood he took from her. Unsure of where the strength came from, she managed to whimper in a breathless voice, "I'm-I'm gonna cum, Harry." 
His response came in the form of a rumbling groan, his remaining hand on her hip snaking around to curl around her middle. She could feel the strength of his touch, complimented by a harsh thrust against her swollen pussy. His touch on her clit quickened, making her cry out once more in a shapeless moan. 
It was all too much, bringing a layer of tears to her closed eyes just before everything came to a head. The twist in her stomach tightened until it unraveled into a shredded ribbon. Her walls pulsed around his cock, her wetness gushing around him with slick noises sounding from where he sunk into her. When those first waves hit, her nails digging into his shoulder with her head thrown back, she felt Harry unlatch from her neck just as his own high hit. 
"Oh—fuck—puppy," he groaned, his movements lagging as soon as she felt the first wave of his cum hit inside her.
He dropped his forehead to rest on the shelf of her collarbone, his hips rocking against hers as best as he could manage the more he sunk into the pleasure of her taste in his mouth and her pussy around his cock. Her walls shuddered around him, her thighs closing in on his hips as her body clung to him. Every rope warmed her compared to his icy touch, prolonging her pleasure that much longer until she could feel him slowing down.
Coming down to earth in slow beats, Harry wrapped his arms around her, leaving (Y/N) to melt into his hold. Her eyes were shuttered closed, her heart beating hard against her ribcage. Looping her own arms around his neck, she buried her face in the mussed curls on the top of his head. Her breathing came in pants as the world reluctantly came into focus around her. 
Harry seemed to recover first, stirring in her arms until he was pressing his lips against her collarbones and dragging them across her décolletage. He painted a delicate trail, never fully lifting his mouth from her skin as he moved up towards her throat. Pausing over the spot he had bitten from, he swiping his tongue carefully over the small wound he'd made, taking care to clean up the small mess he'd left behind and sealing her bite before he made his way towards her jaw. He skimmed over the soft line, his nose glancing off her skin just as carefully. Tipping her head up, (Y/N) met him halfway, tenderly placing her lips against his. 
He was always terribly careful when kissing her after having bitten from her, never wanting to give her a taste of anything too human on his tongue. He allowed only a small press before he was pulling away and puckering against the corner of her mouth to the apple of her cheek and the tip of her nose. 
"Are y'alright, petal?" he murmured against her skin, shuffling until he was laying flat on his back with her atop him. The shifting had his softening cock brushing against her sensitive walls, a small shudder skating down the knobs of her spine. 
"I'm okay," she breathed, blinking her eyes open to see his own still shuttered—and they would stay that way until he was certain there was no more bloody red sclera for her to see. "Are you?"
His features softened into a warm smile, matching the slight flush that had been freshly added to his cheeks. "I am more than well, darling. Thank you for asking." 
A plume of laughter fell from her lips as she settled against him. She knew she should probably get up and dress in something warm enough to cuddle with him, clean herself up before completely relaxing, but she couldn't find the motivation to move off of him. He was far too comfortable, his hold too rewarding to give up in favor of putting on a shirt before she was shivering in his hold.
Harry seemed to have other ideas as he shifted under her. "Let's clean you up, petal. Then, I can put you to sleep while I make dinner, yes?" 
"No," she countered with a whine, clinging to him before he could move them from the haven of their bed, "Not yet."
She felt his laugh more than she heard it from where she laid against his chest. He tightened his hold around her as he dropped a smiling kiss to the crown of her head. "Not even if I come with you?" he bribed, hoping to coax her with the soft inflection on his voice and careful touch as he tightened his hold around her, "We can even nap afterwards, if you'd like. You'll feel better after changing, my love."
"You'll go with me?" she repeated, her voice decidedly smaller as she spoke against his skin. It didn't sound so bad if he cleaned up with her (that usually meant he did all the work anyway, picking out her clothes and washing her hair without her lifting a finger).
"Mhm," he hummed, collecting her against his chest as he started to shift on the mattress, moving stand with her still clinging to his form. "Can't leave my petal all alone after a game like that, can I?" 
(Y/N) could only shake her head, playing along with him as he carried her into the bathroom. 
She definitely liked his games a lot more than her own. 
—————
first vamp h blurb in a while esp a fun one so I hope everyone likes it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if yu have any ideas you wnat too share please send them in!
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disneyprincemuke · 4 months
Text
what happens in vegas * fem!driver
in their defence, there should not be chapels so readily available to drunk people
pairings: mick schumacher x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver
notes: hi guys i told u i didnt forget about vr, i was just a little mentally blocked from it huhuhu
(series masterlist)
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she takes another shot, stumbling slightly as she hisses when the taste of alcohol finally hits her. she giggles when mick’s arm comes up to steady her slightly, leaning forward to giggle with her after she’s almost fallen to the ground.
“mate,” she says excitedly, grabbing his arm with a wide smile. “thanks for coming out with me tonight! stupid logan got a stupid date.”
“of course,” mick mutters, nodding. he puts his shot glass down on the table and slumps his shoulders. “is there anything else to do here besides drink? this can’t be the only thing vegas is good for.”
she shakes her head and licks her lips. she plants her hand on his shoulder and climbs onto the high seat of the bar, dropping herself into the seat. her eyes widen as she feels herself leaning back slightly, snorting when mick firmly grabs her arm to steady her once more. “we should just keep drinking.”
mick looks around the bar with flushed and puffed cheeks. realistically, they shouldn’t be drinking as much as they are. but she had made a good point when convincing him to get drinks with her at one of the bars on the strip — the day starts late, so why not grab some drinks and make the best out of their time in vegas?
it was a good argument. while they tried reeling liam and oscar to come with them, their girlfriends were in town for the race, which left them both in the bar together.
and logan had simply scored himself a date specifically tonight. which prompted her to curse at him, rambling about how he’s ditched them on an important date.
which then prompted logan to fight back, screaming at her about how they never agreed to do anything together tonight.
sebastian outright claimed that he did not want to take care of a small drunk girl that had the ability to disappear in 0.5 seconds so he chose to sit tonight out. it made her sulk a little bit, but when mick reminded her of the bar they were heading to, she was immediately all smiles and sunshine once more.
she slams her palm down on the slab of the counter top. “mate. do you want to go for a walk and see what else is on the strip?”
“can you even still walk straight?” mick grins, turning to her slightly with his shot glass held up to his lips. she nods enthusiastically, a hand on the back of his seat as she climbs off hers. “are you going to show me that you can walk straight?”
“yes, yes!” she shrieks with her arms in the air. “look at me.”
“heel to toe.”
“yeah, yeah. i know how the sober test works. remember montreal?”
“yes, i was there.”
“okay, whatever. watch me,” she giggles, waving her hand in the air to catch mick’s attention. before she starts walking, she looks up again. “can you even walk straight?”
“yeah, duh?” mick hops off his seat, wobbling when he plants his feet on the ground. “i’ll even show you.”
“ugh, copycat!” she shrieks, shoving him back.
they erupt in giggles when mick stumbles back, grabbing her shoulder to stable himself. “okay, let’s go for a walk.”
mick grabs her arm and yanks her towards the direction of the exit of the bar.
“mick schumacher!” she shrieks, stumbling forward to grab the tab from the table. “we haven’t paid yet! hold on!”
“oh.” mick pulls her into his body, arm slung around her shoulders lazily. “i got the bill tonight.”
“yeah, okay,” she mutters to herself, wrapping her arm around his torso. “let’s go for a walk by the strip? i’m in the mood for some ice cream.”
“i feel like having pizza,” mick mutters, tapping her shoulder lightly. “pizza then ice cream?”
she hums, leaning her head on him. “hawaiian pizza? i know you don’t really like it but–“
“i can’t feel my face.” mick fishes for his wallet in his back pocket. “i’m just hungry — i don’t care what pizza it is.”
“oh, nice,” she nods proudly with a smug grin. “we should hang out more.”
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come to the strip!!! 💗💗💗
oscar tilts his head as he wipes his mouth on the towel. he steps out of the bathroom and pops his head into the room. “babe,” he voices out. “did you get a text from mick?”
“yeah.” she lifts the phone the show oscar. “it doesn’t sound like he sent the text.”
“you reckon they’re immobilised from drinking so much?” oscar giggles, crawling on the bed over to her. “should we go to them?”
lily hums, opening up her arms to receive oscar. he drops himself right next to her and rests his head on her stomach. an arm wraps itself around lily’s waist. “if you want to.”
oscar hums. “i don’t think so. i kinda want to go and sleep.”
a hurried knock lands on the door, making oscar lift his head and look at lily. “are you expecting company?”
lily raises an eyebrow. “i grew up in the uk. i don’t have friends out here, oz,” lily hums, rubbing his back.
another knock lands on the door. “open the fucking door! i know you’re inside!”
“what?” oscar screams, climbing off the bed. he drags his feet to the door, glancing at lily with an eye roll. “i thought you were on a date!”
“didn’t mick text you?” logan asks, appearing out in the hallway with a jacket over his shoulders. “that’s so not mick! we need to go!”
oscar steps back, blinking blankly at logan. he’s already in a different set of clothes than oscar last saw him in. he’s in a pair of sweatpants and a random sweatshirt he knows for a fact that came from her, because it’s got a picture of hello kitty in a racing helmet.
that’s in contrast to his proper date outfit from when he left the paddocks.
“what? mick is definitely taking care of her,” oscar snorts with a laugh. “don’t worry about her, mate.”
logan pushes past oscar. he looks at lily. “what did mick text you guys?”
lily hums, resting her head on the headboard of the bed with a giggle. “ask us to come to the strip. with lots of heart shapes.”
logan throws his head back, pulling at his hair in frustration. “no, mate!” he screams. he bends down to the ground and grabs oscar’s jacket, shoving it into the australian’s chest. “let’s go! get dressed!”
“are you jealous or something?” lily laughs softly, tearing the duvet off her legs. “i’m sure her and mick are doing fine.”
“no!” logan screams, waving his arms into the air. “you’re not listening to me! the text they sent me is different!”
“what do you mean?”
“dude,” logan sighs tiredly, hurriedly shoving oscar towards the door. “they’re at the chapel — they have plans to get married.”
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lily has never run out of the hotel so fast in her life. not out of concern for the situation their friend has gotten herself into; just for the simple adrenaline of a bad decision made in vegas while drowning in alcohol.
logan leads her and oscar through the vegas crowd.
lily squeezes oscar’s hand. “do you really think mick is so drunk that they’re getting married in vegas?”
oscar shrugs. “i really don’t know. we know he’s got that big crush on her, but would he really take advantage of her being so drunk like that?”
“i hope not,” lily mutters. “maybe they’re just as wasted as one another?”
“it would be funny.”
“would it, though?”
oscar shrugs again. “we’ll see.”
“you guys,” logan stops momentarily to turn and beckon them forward, “walk faster!”
lily lets out an airy breath, throwing her head back. “logan, relax. i doubt mick took advantage of her,” lily voices out, walking slightly faster to catch up to him. “he’s a good guy!”
“i don’t care. let’s go.”
they find the chapel fairly easy, logan pushing the doors to the reception area with a mission in mind. “who’s in there right now?” he asks, heading straight for the table with a woman standing behing it.
oscar and lily follow behind him slowly, quite unsure what they’re truly doing here. she’s an adult now — she should be able to stand behind decisions she makes.
especially ones that are made when she’s drunk.
“oh, hey! what are you guys doing here?”
oscar tilts his body, looking past logan. there sebastian sits on the couch with a bag of chips in his hands, leaning back with his legs spread on the ground.
“mick texted you?”
“no,” sebastian shakes his head. “mick called me. told me he was gonna marry my driver and be a full-time wag.”
“they’re inside right now?” logan whirls around, pointing at the closed doors that lead to the makeshift chapel in the building. “why didn’t you stop them?”
the older man shrugs, shaking his chips to get another in his mouth. “they have to learn their lesson.”
“seb!” logan cries, throwing his head back and his arms into the air. “her mother is going to kill you!”
sebastian shakes his head, tilting the bag towards the group of them. “she was called before they walked into the chapel.”
oscar laughs, taking a chip for himself. “really? what did she say?”
“she said good luck with the married life,” sebastian laughs.
“am i the only one who isn’t okay with this?” logan raises an eyebrow with his hands on his hips. “seriously! she’s getting married! they could be signing the papers right now that makes it official around the whole world!”
“lighten up,” lily laughs, rubbing his arm. “i’m sure they’ve got a logical explanation for everything that’s happening.”
the large and grand doors open, high pitched gigges filling the room. “oh, hey! you guys came!” she shrieks, arms linked with mick as they stumble out into the common area.
“dude! what are you doing?” logan screams, throwing his arm into the air. “why are you– no! what were you thinking?” he turns to mick. “come on!”
she stares at logan, smile disappearing she drops mick’s arms. “what?”
“why did you get married? what are you doing?”
mick snorts. “free pizza,” mick shrugs, eyes half open with a smug grin.
“what?” oscar laughs, dropping himself on the couch next to sebastian. he clutches his stomach. “you got married for free pizza? you guys are getting paid millions a year and you’re getting married for free pizza?”
“no, no,” she slurs, crossing her arms in the air. “the thing is–“
she looks back at mick, giggling as mick comes up to pull her into his body. “okay. the story is–“
“tell the story faster!” logan screams, begging them to quicken up the storytelling. “come on! what does free pizza have anything to do with you getting married? in vegas?”
“relax, dude,” mick sighs with a sloppy smile, waving a hand in the air. “it started when we went to this ice cream parlour earlier to get her rocky road.”
she giggles, her hands coming up to cup her cheeks. she taps her fingers against the skin with a giggle. “this guy proposed to this girl in the ice cream parlour — it was so cute!”
“okay?” sebastian raises an eyebrow. “how did this bring us here to the chapel?”
“and they got two free pints of ice cream!” she screams, throwing her arms in the air. “i wanted free ice cream!”
“dolce and gabbana don’t sponsor you so you can pull crap like this for two free pints of ice cream!” logan drops his head into his hands. “i still don’t see how any of this led to you getting married!”
“so i proposed to her in the ice cream parlour jokingly,” mick explains exasperatedly, rolling his eyes jokingly. “with a zip tie we found in her purse, but still.”
“oh, my gosh!” lily squeals, stepping forward to clasp her hands together with the girl. “do you have pictures?”
mick beams. “i do! i asked this random lady inside to take a video of me proposing to my ‘long-term girlfriend’ as a surprise!”
he fishes for his phone in his back pocket, immediately typing away on the screen. he whimpers, pouting his bottom lip out when logan snatches the phone from his hands.
“the story!”
“don’t you wanna hear our backstory as a couple?”
“not really.”
“i’m curious, actually.”
“so my ‘girlfriend’,” mick squeezes her shoulder, “and i grew up together! neighbours, actually!”
she sighs dreamily, resting her head on mick’s arm. she links arms with him and closes her eyes. “classic story of falling in love with the girl next door.”
“wait,” sebastian says. “if he proposed to you inside the ice cream parlour…”
lily tilts her head, looking around. “where’s the ice cream?”
“oh, we snuck into the paddocks and put it into the freezer in my driver’s room,” she giggles, throwing her head back. she leans back lazily, prompting mick to drop his hand to push her back to his feet.
logan steps forward and grabs her arm, yanking her up. “finish the damn story!” he turns to mick again. “seriously, have you both lost all working braincells that you decided to get married in vegas? in vegas? while you’re shit faced drunk?”
“yeah, so after we left the parlour, we went walking by the strip and we walked past this shop that sells pizza,” she explains. “they give free pizza away to newlyweds!”
“you did all this for free pizza?” logan asks, sitting next to oscar on the couch. “i’m gonna be on the news.”
“she suggested that we go to that chapel we walked by — this place — and then go back to that pizza restaurant with all of you to celebrate our… ‘marriage’!” mick laughs. “free pizza, anyone?”
the group stare at the pair in silence: logan showing his distaste for their antics with a scowl, oscar with an amused grin, sebastian still eating his chips and lily simply holding her hands in excitement.
sebastian shrugs, pushing himself off the couch. “convinced me.”
“as long as she doesn’t force me to eat hawaiian, then i guess,” oscar throws his arms into the air. “do they give out drinks too?”
“yeah!”
“really? and everyone is okay with this?” logan asks, narrowing his eyes down as he looks at sebastian. “you’re okay with this?”
sebastian shrugs again. “i’m not her manager or anything — i’m just her race engineer. sometimes grid dad. not tonight, though. all of this happened while i was sleeping tight in my hotel room.”
“oh, lighten up,” she giggles, tapping logan’s shoulder. “i’ll get you a whole pizza for yourself later. don’t be a party pooper — it’s my wedding night!”
— bonus
"alright, wife," mick grins, walking down the hallway of her hotel room floor. "i will see you tomorrow for our fight that will lead to our separation."
"okay, husband," she giggles airily, stopping right by her bedroom door. "i had fun being married to you, mick! i wish it could last longer than this one wonderful night."
mick laughs, stepping back with a grin. "don't forget to drink some water."
she doesn't answer, just grins at him as she taps her card onto the reader. she hears the lock whirl around before she pushes the handle down to open her door.
she takes a deep breath and turns around with a smile. "do you wanna come in for some coffee?"
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ellieluvr420 · 4 months
Text
wife Abby headcanons xoxo
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-You met at a bar when your friend cancelled on you last minute, she offered to buy you a drink and you chatted at the bar until she invited you back to hers, this was back when you were 22 and she was 25 so her flat was more modest but still well decorated and clean. You both shared a bottle of wine and sat and spoke more for hours until you were both so drunk you started doing karaoke together by watching youtube videos on her TV, she invited you out to an actual karaoke bar as your second date and she only fell even more in love with you the more she saw you.
-I think she would work in corporate like a lawyer or investment banker or something so I think she would try and work from home as much as they would let her.
-She looks so funny when she works from home too because she wears work clothes on her top half for her zoom calls but then she would be wearing pj bottoms and her slippers on her bottom half.
-Such a victim of Apple's marketing, always insists she needs the newest phone or whatever they had brought out, she has the watch, the phone, an ipad, an imac, macbook pro, airpod pros and airpod max's. Literally everything they sell because she's actually a tech geek at heart.
"I totally need it."
"Give me one reason you need an iPad Abigail."
"...I don't know, it's just cool."
You roll your eyes at her but chuckle at her insistence as you press a small kiss to her pouty lips. She smiles at you and looks like a child on Christmas day as she orders her new toy.
-She would so wear the airpod max's while working out and i think she'd always have one of those gallon water bottles that she'd take everywhere with her.
"Babe please just let me buy you one, trust me it will make you drink so much more water."
"No it won't, do not waste your money seriously." She'd huff at your stubbornness and go and buy you one anyway.
-I think she would workout at night or during the day if she can fit it in which rarely happens because she enjoys her mornings with you where you guys cuddle and chat and have breakfast together before she goes to work or gets started in the home office
-Does majority of the cooking because she really enjoys it and is also a chef, like she whips up three course meals so regularly like its nothing.
-You try and make dinner together on the weekends which equates to her micromanaging you until she gets too stressed watching you mess up and does it herself while you sit on the counter entertaining her.
-She always goes to sleep as big spoon and always wakes up as little spoon, every night, without failure. Also loves to lay on your stomach with her arms around your waist, one of her fav cuddling positions.
-She's the kind of person to ignore and persevere through a cold until she literally passes out and will get mad at you when you have to force her to rest but once she's comfy and has accepted she's ill she's such a baby.
-She would be so good with kids and they would all love her too like when you would go to family gatherings together all the kids would always be glued to her pulling her every which way
-loves dogs and cats and wants two of each
-loves home date nights where you cook together and watch films or play games whether its board, video or card games. Once you bought a fake police file and tried to figure out who the murderer was, it ended in a huge argument because you couldn't agree on who it was, you were so annoyed you made her sleep on the sofa but in the middle of night she sauntered back into your room and climbs into bed cuddling into you.
"Sorry babe, you were right." She kisses your forehead and you smile as you both go to sleep happily, Abby had managed to find the answer online but she didn't tell you that you were in fact wrong, she would rather be in bed cuddling you than prove she was right.
-I think she would want 3 kids, preferably boy, girl, boy or vice versa but she would be happy with any kids.
-If/when kids come along she starts working from home primarily and you watch them grow together.
-She would eventually want to move away from the city where she lived for an easy commute to work to a beautiful house in the country with large fields behind a huge back garden where the dogs and cats, and ducks all play with the kids.
-She would love reading crime thriller books but she also has a guilty pleasure for romance and sometimes she'll sit in bed with you and read you parts of the books. Can imagine older Abby refusing to get reading glasses because that makes her officially old but she’s literally holding the book as far as it will go and squinting so hard and she still can’t read it, you eventually give in and read it to her which only motivates her to not get glasses more because this was a way better option.
-Loves Family Guy, American Dad, South Park, all those kind of shows but if you put on a drama she'll grumble and then be hooked.
"Oh my god, oh my god, are you fucking kidding me? Noooooooo." Abby yells at the screen as she watches the season 1 finale of vampire diaries with you, you had started rewatching it as it was nostalgic and she made fun of you so much until you forced her to watch the episode you were watching.
Like I could so see her watching greys anatomy and sobbing when there's a major character death
-Goes to get mani pedis with you and she'll always get her nails painted to match the colour of yours even when you'd pick super bright to mess with her she'd get it without batting an eye.
-Of course she gets along super well with all your friends and family, sometimes you think they love her more than you 😀
okay that's all I got for now but I will probs do way more once the series is finished :))
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babiebom · 3 months
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Heyyy! I was wondering if u could do the bachelors & bachelorettes reactin to / dating an s/o who has really intense nose bleeds when they're stressed. But plot twist bc this is literally the norm for the farmer bc they have crippling anxiety, especially social.
Thank u sm!!
A/N: I don’t know why I thought this was funny??? My anxiety just makes my stomach upset but a nosebleed in front of everyone like some sort of anxious demon is funny. Not the clean up tho. I’ve never had a nosebleed but I know they bleed SO MUCH. Also no problemo!!! Always glad to get requests!! I did different things (so not just stressed because I would’ve written the same thing for anyone I made crush aspects as sort of for stress too lmao) for each hopefully they’re good enough!
Tw: cursing, blood, anxiety, the nose bleeds are VERY dramatic because it’s fiction lmao. Physical fights(in Leah’s part), arguments(in almost all of them). Pierre hate Pam hate(kinda) Demetrius hate Morris hate. And Kel is gender neutral! let me know if there’s anything else to tag!
Wc: idk lmao hopefully at least 100 words for each
Stardew Masterlist
Sebastian:
Just frowns
Actually helps unexpectedly
….we can never talk about this happening again if you want……
It’s not often that you get to see the towns resident emo, even after visiting Robin multiple times for various building needs. So when you wander into the house, looking for Robin so you can upgrade your coop, seeing him makes your brain malfunction.
“Oh…hey farmer.” He greets, moving past you to head further into the house. You blink for a second before returning the greeting, watching as his dark hoodie disappears behind a wall.
You try to force your breathing to slow down. There is absolutely NO reason you should be this worked up over a literal one second conversation. While you sit with your thoughts, foot steps fill your ears and the sight of Sebastian returning from wherever he went makes all of your progress regress. “So…you here waiting for my mom?”
You nod quickly, clearing your throat, “yeah…um…just need to upgrade my chicken coop.”
“Oh well, she’s not in today. She usually goes to Pierre’s store to work out with the other moms.”
You frown to yourself, how did you miss that she wouldn’t be in today? Damn now all you can think about is how you just made a fool of yourself. Lost in your thoughts, you miss that Sebastian had cleared his throat a couple times until he waves a hand in front of your face.
“If you want, I can take your order and tell her when she gets home later. That way she can get started tomorrow.”
“Would you?” Your heart flips as you perk up. Was he usually this nice? You kinda heard from Robin herself that Sebastian never really interacted with people he wasn’t already friends with.
“Yeah sure.” He shrugs and moves to go around the counter, setting his slowly cooling food down. “Okay so she usually charges 10,000g and you have to have 400 logs of wood and 150 things of stone. Sound right?”
You nod and hand over the bag of money. The second your hands touch it’s like your body decided it couldn’t handle anything else from him. Luckily he just takes the money and pretends like your nose hasn’t become a geyser as you scramble to try to keep the blood from dripping all over their furniture.
Sam:
WOAH DUDE IS THAT LIKE….NORMAL?
it’s like from a movie or something
Is overall sorta scared but at the same time thinks it’s cool
“And this is how I do a kick flip!” Sam shows you skateboard trick after trick and honestly you can’t get enough of it. It wasn’t a secret that the both of you had crushes on each other, and even now it was very obvious by how you were watching him do his tricks that you had feelings for him. Yet still you two weren’t in a relationship, just sort of friends who like each other in a romantic sort of way.
“You’re so cool!” You clap as he lands another trick.
“And you’re cute!”
“What?”
You freeze in your spot and watch in confusion as he sort of freezes midway through his next trick and crashes to the ground. His words echo in your head, making your face heat up and your heart soar. He smacks his face on the ground, sending you into a panic because now all you can think about is how he thinks you’re cute, and now how he probably has a concussion from hitting his face directly onto the concrete.
When he lifts his face off the ground, you’re kneeling next to him, trying to check on him. His forehead is bleeding, his nose is bleeding, and so is his mouth. You shriek and try to go through your backpack to see if you have anything to help him. You didn’t.
You already know where this is leading, and you let out a groan of annoyance right before your nose starts leaking just like his. His eyes widen and he lets out a loud laugh. Maybe you two can move out of the weird friendship you have after all.
Shane:
Would just stare silently
Like no comments no nothing
Doesn’t even act like it’s happening
Having a part time job at Joja Mart during the winter is one of the absolute worst ideas that you’ve had in a while. But you didn’t make a lot during your first year of farming. Stacking the products onto the shelves, your only saving Grace is the fact that you’re allowed to have earphones in. Except for the fact that Pam is now standing next to you asking loudly about where something is. Shane is stacking the shelves behind you.
“I don’t know Pam…the alcohol is probably on the wall in the back.” You frown at her. She obviously knows that you don’t know this store that well, you were a FARMER that NEVER shopped here before. She rasps out another question and it takes everything in you to not snap at her. Trying to calm yourself of course there’s gonna be something else that makes you lose your mind. That something is Morris, coming over and being the absolute WORST and in turn making Pam LOUDER and more insistent.
He’s lecturing you, Pam is agreeing with him way too loudly, the music on your headphones is now overwhelming instead of calming, and the sound of random things in the market is making you want to bite a chunk out of the loaves of bread in front of you, plastic and all. With everything building up inside of you, you already know what’s going to happen. It always happens, but instead of excusing yourself you stand there, staring Morris down as the blood begins to flow from your nostrils.
Pam yells out curses and Morris begins to stutter, but behind them Shane just stares for a second before continuing to work. When you’re finally left alone with him in the aisle as your two stressors hastily take their leave, all he does is let out a dry chuckle.
“Sam has a hell of a mess to clean up…”
Alex:
Oh DUDE your nose is like….LEAKING
Doesn’t help
Just watched and comments
“AND THEN HE HAS THE NERVE TO TELL PEOPLE THAT MY HARVESTS ARE HIS BUT HE ONLY DOES IT IF ITS GOOD!” You rant to the brown haired boy, pacing back and forth in his room. Thankfully both Evelyn and George were out so you weren’t bothering anyone except for the man in front of you.
You huff and puff as he watches, slightly amused slightly concerned. Alex wasn’t the best person to go to when you’re upset unless it was something absolutely devastating. So being in front of him now, complains about your farming woes meant that he was only half ass taking it seriously. “You should go and speak your mind.” He says.
Turns out you should NOT take advice from Alex. Standing in Pierre’s shop, you’re staring him down angrily, anxiety creeping up your throat from you trying to will yourself to call him out on his bullshit. The older man just kind of stares at you in confusion because all you had done was shout his name angrily as you entered the shop then stand in front of him seething.
“You….you…..” you point a finger at him. This was the moment, the moment you stand up for yourself and tell Pierre how HORRIBLE he is!
But of course things don’t work how you want and your nose gushes out blood all over the counter before you can work yourself up to the point of accusations. With a gasp you run out of the shop, hoping that he would keep his mouth shut with Alex running behind you laughing. Again, NEVER let Alex talk you into anything.
Elliott:
Panics
How do I help PLS LET ME HELP
Everything probably gets messy
Fishing had never been your favorite pastime, but now trying to fix up the community center you had to. Unfortunately Willy was gone and couldn’t properly teach you even though he had gifted you an old rod of his, so the next best thing is getting your boyfriend to teach you since he does fish often. Now you stand on the docks, waiting for a fish to bite the hook.
“Keep calm, the fish can feel your fear and it makes them upset.” Elliott spoke. In all honesty you didn’t even know if that was true or not, but you take in a breath to calm down. You did not want to be here all day you had cows to pet.
The second your line begins to pull you try to pull the fish in. And you succeed until it comes time to unhook the eel you managed to catch. The eel is slimy and slippery and all around not a good thing to try to grip. A shriek leaves your lips and the eel struggles, Elliott tries to help you but is also struggling to catch hold of it. And now your nose is bleeding adding another layer to the already hellish experience.
You’re unhappy, the eel is unhappy, and Elliott is unhappy. After what seems like an hour, the stupid thing slips out of your grips and back into the ocean, washing your nose blood off of it and splashing you with saltwater. 0 out of 10 you will not be trying again.
Harvey:
Calm but concerned(after panicking for a second)
Has a doctory approach to it
But is secretly like WTF inside
Your heart thumps in your chest as you sit on the clinic bed. It’s been a while since you’ve been in Harvey’s clinic, having taken a break from the mines, and somehow this seems more shameful than having been beaten almost to death by living slime. Your hands bleed into the cloth you have pressed into it. One of the pigs knocked you over into the broken fence you were in the middle of fixing. Now you sit waiting for the good looking Doctor.
When he walks in he’s all smiles, tapping his clipboard with his pen. “While I’m sad to see that you’re injured, I’m glad to see it isn’t from those mines again.” The eye contact he makes with you makes your heart twist for a second.
He starts speaking of all the shots you need and the antibiotics you need to take, rust poisoning is quite serious you know. “Now,” he says, moving towards you, “let me see your hand.”
Your heart thumps erratically at the close proximity of him and you. You only really ever got to see him this close when you were half dead and barely conscious. His face is much too close for you to be able to do anything but focus on how pretty his eyes are, and how fluffy his mustache is, and how…
“OH MY DEAR YOBA” He yelps and jumps away from you. It takes only a second after him to realize what’s going on, and now your furiously wiping away at your nose with your hands instead of with the cloth, and he’s trying to get something on your nose to catch the blood. It’s a disaster, really. But at least you’re already in a clinic!
Penny:
Probably panics
Doesn’t know how to deal with it
Would try to help though
The warmth of the pool in the spa did nothing to ease your nerves as you waded in the shallow end of the pool. Penny had invited you to come sometime after 7 pm, and when you had arrived she was already waiting for you, kicking her feet in the pool. The thought of her asking you here made your stomach turn, did you do something wrong…? Was she inviting you here to tell you she hated you or something…? You had grown close to her over your time here and would hate it if she thought you were too much or something.
“Do you know why I invited you here?” She asks, moving closer but keeping her eyes on the water.
You shake your head, “I’m not exactly sure, no.”
She frowns and sighs at you, meeting your eyes for a fleeting second then looking elsewhere. “Really? I thought you would’ve noticed by now…” her words trail off and her eyebrows furrow.
The next few seconds are ones that you simultaneously want to remember for forever and forget. She confesses her feelings for you. Feelings that you obviously reciprocate, and the emotions in you mix and grow, rising up your throat as if you were a volcano of conflicting feelings. As soon as you open your mouth to tell her that yes, you like her too, her face morphs into one that’s horrified instead of hopeful, disgusted instead of smitten and you realize a second after she does that your nose is spouting red, dyeing the water you both were swimming in.
Penny shrieks for a solid second before trying to scramble out of the water as fast as she can. You do the same, swirling the red around the pool as both of you splash trying to exit the now crime scene looking pool. When you get out of the water, she’s holding a towel right in your face, smooshing it so hard you can barely breathe and now your nose is throbbing with slight pain. “What do we do?!” She asks moving about quickly. She’s so confused that she just keeps walking and turning as if she’s remembering and forgetting things at the same time.
You just tilt your head downward and cringe inwardly, this was not the way to get a girl to like you. “It’s fine…I’m fine,” you say voice nasally and muffled. “And I like you too by the way.”
Haley:
confused staring
wtf is happening
Actually speechless
It isn’t every day that you get to talk to a beautiful blonde. It isn’t even every day that you talk to anyone. So when she approaches you on one of your trips off of your farm you couldn’t help but feel like either everything is out to get you or that you’re up on your luck. You don’t really know for sure, it honestly depends on how things go.
“Hey farmer!” She smiles as soon as she stops in front of you, the feeling of your stomach twisting makes you want to vomit in all of your nervousness. “I have a favor to ask you…”
“Yeah?” You ask trying to keep your cool. “What is it?”
“I would totally love love LOVE you forever if you could bring me an amethyst? It’s for Emily’s birthday and I don’t really like Clint so I don’t wanna buy anything from him. I’m willing to pay 150g!”
You cough into your fist, nodding along and taken aback by how casually she’s speaking to you. Before you can accept doing her the favor, the horrified look on your face makes your words falter.
She looks absolutely horrified, and touching your hand to your face you can feel why. Your nose started dripping blood, and by dripping you mean you can now feel it running down to your chin. A flurry of curses leave your mouth as confused noises leave hers. It's not much of a surprise that this has happened, but man did you wish it wasn't in front of her.
Emily:
Surprisingly chill about it
Probably has a weird story about a nosebleed or something
Actually helps
You sit at the bar alone, upset at a horrible farming day. You tried your best, you really did, but those stupid ass crows actually ate ALL of your seedlings. Or…almost all of them but that’s basically the same thing! There is no way you’re gonna make enough to make it through winter comfortably. You told Emily exactly this, appreciative of her listening ear in the middle of her busy shift.
“You know they probably didn’t mean it…or maybe they did,” she sucks in a breath eyebrows furrowing as she thinks, “you know crows are very smart they probably know that you’re using that land to farm and stay there because of all the free food.”
“But it’s not free!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up in annoyance, “I have to buy those seeds! They’re just putting me into debt!”
She hums and nods, wiping the bar next to you where a person had just left. You had only a couple months left until the snow started falling and making it virtually impossible to grow anything. The little plants you had left you had to fight the crows for. And by fight I mean you angrily swung a broom at the with the intent of scaring them (not hitting them that’s mean). Still the growing anger inside you was not easily crushed by her warm and quite frankly outlandish words. No, in fact your anger grew the more you thought about it.
You felt it coming before anything had even exited your nose, hurriedly snatching the rag from Emily’s hands. Damn now you would have to buy the bar a new one. She just blinks then nods as if your nose becoming a bloody waterfall was normal.
“You know…nose bleeds cause by stress is usually because your heart rate and blood pressure increase and it causes your blood vessels to dilate!”
You stare at her before laughing. Maybe she was helpful after all.
Abigail:
WOAH
WTF
WHAT DO WE DO?
You stand in front of Pierre in front of the shop, arms crossed as you watch his face grow redder the longer time goes on. “-IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MY DAUGHTER?” You’re not really listening to his tirade, over the whole ‘protective dad’ thing.
“Dad I’m an adult! You have no say in who I date!” Abigail yells back, face equally red. Who would’ve known that he would have a problem with the farmer he rips off constantly dating his daughter?
He yells out more reasons that the two of you shouldn’t be dating, and in turn points a finger into your chest roughly. You sputter out an offended sound, moving away from him. “Don’t touch me!”
“You shouldn’t be touching my daughter!”
“What? Dude we just started dating, you’re weird as hell!”
The arguing only gets worse from there, accusations flying around and now an audience comes with the drama. It’s almost too much for you to handle with now Caroline, Harvey, Haley, and the Milner family standing and watching the chaos. “Abby let’s just go to my place…” you try suddenly feeling the need to escape and no longer feeling the ‘fuck you dude’ attitude.
“No! He needs to understand that he can’t control my life!”
It’s like a volcano in your body and just like a volcano your nose begins to erupt. Now you’re screaming, Abigail is screaming, Pierre is screaming, the Mullners are screaming. Could this get any worse?
Turns out yeah, it can get any worse, like a family fight worse and now all of you are sitting in Harvey’s clinic. At least you aren’t the only bloody one now.
Maru:
Is surprised
Also forgets what to do
Would probably make things worse
Maru talks about robots and space the way you would talk about her: totally and completely enamored. You sit on her bed listening to her talk about her newest invention, some sort of robot that can cook and clean and basically be a free maid. You laugh and move your arm to get in a more comfortable position to watch her. Unfortunately your arm had other plans and smacked hard into her bed post. Groaning out in pain, your eyes close and begin to water from how much your elbow hurt.
Demetrius is in your face before you even realize that he was in the room. You yelp out in surprise as he starts ranting about you ruining his daughter’s future. You blink in surprise and try to retreat back into the mattress. What was happening. You can hear Maru screaming over his words but your ears feel like they’re filled with water.
“We’re just friends!” You find yourself shouting. Like damn is the man insane? It wasn’t the first time he’s gotten upset at you over Maru, but it was the first time that he was absolutely losing his mind.
“Dad stop!”
Time froze for a second as you and Demetrius stared at each other, Maru standing near him. Breathing in you can taste blood in your mouth before your nose starts bleeding, yet you can’t bring yourself to do anything but sit and catch your breath.
“Oh my god!” Both Demetrius and Maru exclaim moving around the room trying to find something to help. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed at him acting concerned now.
Thankfully Maru looked cute trying to help you which at least made things a little better.
Leah:
Is also freaking out on the inside but calm on the outside
Helps you with tissues
Is understanding
Going on a date with Leah is a dream come true. There’s paint, wine, food, and you’re sitting in the prettiest meadow you’ve ever seen, well it’s pretty because Leah is there and she’s pretty and you’ve been here multiple times because it’s near her cottage but it still looks different today.
You sit, paintbrush in hand, laughing at something she’s saying. It’s fun and if she hadn’t have asked you would’ve spent the day farming like usual, this little break was needed. The day couldn’t be ruined, absolutely nothing can ruin it.
Okay, one thing can ruin it and that one thing is Kel coming and ruining everything. The argument that ensues is one of the worst that you’ve seen. Kel tries to walk up on you(translation: Kel wants to fight you), Leah stops them but in turn gets into a fight with them which causes you to actually get up and try to defend her.
You kinda block out until you can hear Kel call out “I made your nose bleed bitch!” Which again causes you to want to drown in your anger.
“My noses is bleeding because I’m stressed, stupid!” You back. It’s obvious Kel hadn’t been able to hit your nose so claiming to be able to hit you so hard your nose bleeds isn’t even possible. It’s almost childish how the two of you argue.
Leah finally gets Kel to leave and hands you a bunch of tissues as she sits you down on the now rumpled blanket. As the two of you catch your breath and calm down, you find yourself smiling at her behind the wad of tissues catching blood flowing from your nose.
At least the situation would be funny in the future.
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