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#which he finds .... less endearing
timeisacephalopod · 1 year
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On a total side note tangent I will say I didnt read Heard's piece that Depp sued over defaming him but if I have my facts straight she didn't even name him in the piece she wrote so like if he read "I became the face of domestic violence" and came running out screaming "you're defaming me!" it was weird that everyone read that as Heard defaming Depp and not as a confession of domestic violence from Depp?? Like I don't know many people who would be so offended their ex said they were in an abusive relationship that they'd come running out of the woodwork to claim they were the unnamed ex that was written about and they were the victim of a hit piece that never mentioned them by name?
Sounds more like he intentionally used the legal system to further abuse his victim and it's really god damn weird that it took uncomfortable texts from Depp to Marilyn Manson of all fucking people for people to realize the guy who was really willing to say he was the unnamed abusive ex was, in fact, abusive.
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laugtherhyena · 6 months
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The funniest thing to me about the new adventure time cartoon is that in the Fiona and Cake show the characters i liked the least where Fiona and Cake themselves 😭
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autistichalsin · 1 month
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One thing that fascinates me with Halsin is how sometimes, the only way to get him to admit certain things is by being profoundly cruel to him as a player.
For example: the infamous post-Drow scene. He refuses to use the word "captors" to describe the Drow that held him (which is part of why I never got the impression he had actually healed, honestly, but that's a conversation for a different post). Even in the new scene, there is only one way to get him to call his abuse, his rape, what it was. If you are a Lolth-sworn Drow Tav, you have one of the evilest dialogue options in the game-
"So the mighty bear is an escaped pet, then. I wonder if there is a reward for your return..."
To which Halsin responds with a terse, "you would be unwise to attempt it, trust me. In any case, the house of my captors is long extinct." Then he pauses and looks thoughtful, "interesting. Part of me still thought of them as hosts. But I suppose 'captors' is indeed more accurate."
This is the only option the player has that gets him to admit it, and it requires being unspeakably evil to him, threatening to sell him back to his captors.
He romanticized his past as a sex slave (both as a reaction to the Shadow Curse's stresses, and to make his slavery safer in his mind), but when you threaten to sell him back, you make it real for him again, and he is forced to admit it didn't matter if he did "some things that were less than necessary," he still didn't enjoy it, and yes, they were his captors, not his hosts.
The other example is getting him to admit he loves you. Unless you are playing as Origin Karlach (in which case he will use the word under different circumstances near the ending), he won't use the word love to/about you except as a term of endearment. He might use the words "my love", but never says "I love you."
Unless, of course, you decide to be an asshole and say you are breaking up with him, only to change your mind, multiple times, ignoring how increasingly upset he gets each time, accusing you of liking to see him crestfallen. And then, eventually:
"Why would you test my patience like this? Sometimes it is difficult to love you." (Emphasis mine).
Difficult to love you- but he still does. He doesn't break up with you after this, doesn't say this is the last time and next time you bring it up is it... nothing. He still loves you despite you toying with his heart. And much as above, it is the only way to get him to admit out loud that he loves you- by being a complete and utter bastard to him.
I just find it interesting. Sad, but interesting.
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rachalixie · 4 months
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a/n: a little anxiety comfort for @katieraven :))) (warnings: anxiety, reader picks at her skin)
“you’re doing it again,” chan points out, looking down at your hands and back up to your eyes. you shrink into yourself a bit, expecting to find some kind of judgment within his gaze but as always there is none. 
“sorry,” you mutter, tucking your hands under your legs to keep them out of reach. your nails were in terrible shape, the cuticles around them torn up, but you couldn’t help it. it was like an involuntary reflex at times, you didn’t even realize that you were doing it until after it was done. 
“don’t apologize,” he says, voice honey molten, soothing your ache just a bit. “i’m never going to be upset at you for that. i’m just worried, is all.”
“i’m trying,” you stutter out, cursing inwardly at how fragile your voice sounds. if you were with anyone else, you’re sure you would have started crying by now. 
“i know,” he smiles at you, tugging your hands out from under your legs so he could hold them in his. “do you want me to paint them? that’s helped before.”
“you don’t have to,” you try and tug your hands away, embarrassed at the state of your fingertips. you don’t want anyone looking at them, especially with the attentive care it would take to paint them. even if he’s done it before, it doesn’t get any easier. 
“i know i don’t have to. i want to,” he declares, keeping his grip on your hands. “i love you, i want you to be okay. i would never judge you for anything, you know that.”
he leaves no room for questioning him, because he’s right. in all the time that you’ve known him, he’s never once made you feel like less for your anxiety. 
you let out a sigh and nod, and he smiles so brightly that you have to look away in fear of being blinded by his light. he pulls out a small container out of the drawers next to him and he rifles through it, straightening up when he finds what he’s looking for. 
“which one?” he holds up two bottles of nail polish, both black. 
“chan, they’re the same color,” you giggle, endeared by him. 
“no!” he starts, looking at the bottles and then back at you before starting his explanation of how different the shades of black were. you let everything else fade out except for the sound of his voice until the urge to pull your hands away from him fizzles away. you eventually point at one, choosing at random, and he wastes no time uncapping the bottle, bouncing in excitement. 
each swipe of the polish against your nails calms you bit by bit as you focus on the way his tongue peeks out of his lips in concentration. he does it so carefully, making sure that none of it touches your skin and swiping away the bits that do with his thumbnail. 
“they look pretty, right?” he asks when he’s done, raising your hands up to your face so you could see his work. 
“yeah, channie,” you agree, surprised when you actually mean it. “they do.”
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sxcret-garden · 4 months
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Ateez Reaction ღ When you tell them you're horny in public [M]
ღ Ateez all members x gn!reader ღ genre: smut, reaction ღ warnings: mentions of semi-public sex in some parts
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Hongjoong:
lil shit pt 1
is just gonna grin at you when you're at an event and you whisper in his ear that you're horny
the way he holds you close when he has his arm around you will immediately become more firm
he will be a tease about it and put more dirty thoughts into your head, either by telling you directly or by texting you paragraphs about what he wants to do to you across the room
observes your reaction closely and it brings him great amusement
until it's finally time that you can leave the event together
at this point both of you are so horny that you're not gonna make it home and you simply end up fucking in the car instead
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Seonghwa:
has no idea what to do with the situation for like a solid minute
simply bluescreens because obviously if his s/o is needy he feels the need to please them but since you're in public he can't immediately do that, and that's very inconvenient
eventually figures out that a good next step could be getting you two home as soon as possible
and so he'll do anything to achieve that - even if you're out with friends or at an event he'll find a way for you two to leave early
the second you're home his lips are already on yours, and he can’t keep his hands off you as he's walking you over to the bedroom
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Yunho:
you're out with friends as you whisper in his ear that you're horny
gives you that soft endearing laugh that's supposed to console you because he can't do anything about it at this exact moment
feels the need to stay glued to you afterwards, always having his arm around you and giving you small consoling touches (which do nothing to make you any less horny tbh jdhdjdjd)
that's until an opportunity arises for the two of you to sneak off without the others noticing right away
will take you by the hand and drag you off to the nearest bathroom
makes you promise to be quiet and will make it the hardest task ever by giving you the best head until he's sure you're satisfied
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Yeosang:
has no idea how to react to you telling him this, but other than Seonghwa, he isn't going to recover anytime soon
he knows it's his duty as a good boyfriend to take care of your needs!! he's just too flustered to figure out how jxhddbhxbd
definitely needs a little push from you
so when you do drag him off somewhere the two of you can be alone for some time, that's when the gears up in his head finally start working again
and he WILL make sure to leave you absolutely satisfied in whatever short time you two have
is gonna give you such good head that you wish you could stay here with him all day
and needless to say, pulling yourself together afterwards is going to be the next challenge you'll face...
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San:
the second you tell him that you're kinda horny, he gets horny too
will blush as he gives you a surprised look, but in his mind he's already going through all the different possibilities to get you two to the next best place to fuck
whether that's your actual home, or a public restroom, or a storage room, or wherever - he doesn't care
he knows you need him and that makes him need you too, but at the same time he knows just how inconvenient this situation is
keeps the perfect balance between consoling you and telling you to have just a bit of patience while figuring out where to take you
once he does find an opportunity, he doesn't waste a single second to take it, and he's gonna have you pinned against a wall and fucking you in no time
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Mingi:
this can go one of two ways
he's either too flustered to function and doesn't really know what to do with the information
in that case he will eventually figure that getting you home asap would be favourable, so he'd try to make that happen
OR he eventually recovers and suddenly the idea of dragging you off and fucking in a semi-public space does sound kinda hot to him
needless to say, the thought gets him going as well, and so now you're just both looking for an opportunity to sneak away from the friends you're with
gets you off in a public toilet in a rush and you return the favour
however, this wasn't nearly enough for the two of you, so once you're in the comfort of your own home you can be sure there will be round 2 (or even more)
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Wooyoung:
little shit pt 2
has soooo much fun teasing you about it
"Oh really? So what if I do this?" - touches you in inappropriate places without anyone seeing
and he's really good at sneakily making you even more horny without anyone noticing...
has the time of his life as he keeps riling you up with little touches and flirty looks and the occasional kiss right below your ear, disguised as just another innocent gesture between lovers
if you think he'll keep up the torture until you're finally home, you're absolutely right
isn't done with his teasing once you're home, but he'll make sure to make it up to you in ways that'll have you seeing stars in no time
however, he'd of course be just as happy if you turn the situation around on him and tease the shit out of him once you're home until he's literally begging
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Jongho:
little shit pt 3
you'll wish you hadn't told him
simply reassures you that it won't be long until you get home once you tell him... only to end it with a sneaky comment meant to keep you on edge
will whisper the most subtle dirty things in your ear at the most unexpected of times throughout the day and have his hands on you more than usual
he knows exactly where the line is, and he'll make damn sure to balance on it as he messes with you
literally keeps his composure until the very end - and you’ll be surprised how quickly that changes once you’re finally alone
won't even let you be mad at him once you are finally home, he's simply gonna shut you up with a kiss and he'll be damn sure to make you think that enduring all his teasing was worth it
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spacedace · 1 year
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It was the final hour. Doomsday at their door, with only hours left before the world was consumed entirely and every last living thing was devoured right along with it.
Summoning the High King of the Infinite Realms was the only option left, and even then felt more like choosing a firing squad rather than a noose at the end of the day. Pariah Dark might - might - accept the task of destroying the foe they faced, but tmit would come at a cost that was near equal to doing nothing at all. Provided the tyrannical ruler simply didn't let them all die, an entire planet dead was an entire planet to add to his endless armies.
They had to try. Stupid and suicidal as it was.
Zantanna and John worked in silence as they created the summoning circle, hands shaking and stomachs cramping as they worked under the apprehensive eyes of the rest of the League. They all understood that no matter what happened, they would all likely end up dead by the end of it. That the best case scenario meant that death was only the beginning of their problems.
Candles were lit. Insense burned. Blood spilled. Words spoken.
Nothing.
Nothing.
It failed, not so much as a flicker of magic. Which was impossible, they'd checked and confirmed a dozen times that they had the right ritual, that they were following the steps, they had done everything right way wasn't it working? What had they done wr-
"Ugh, gross is that blood?"
Elle Phantom, fifteen minuted late to the site of the ritual with both the boys Super, the most murderous Robin and a sugary abomination of an iced coffee from Starbucks, scrunched her nose in disgust as she looked at the summoning circle.
"This ritual is so out of date, where did you even find it? Wait is that Latin? Who tries to summon someone from the Ghost Zone in Latin?"
John had burned through every drop of alcohol and cigarette he owned hours ago while trying to find this bloody damn ritual and was very much not in the mood for the little hellspawn's color commentary on the process.
"I don't bloody well seeing you providing with any alternatives for summoning the Ghost King." He swore, turning away from the gremlin to tear through the ancient book he and Zantanna had discovered with the ritual inside.
There was a loud slurping noise as the undead hero sucked the last remnants of her drink through the straw. John's brow twitched, even Zantanna - who usually seemed endeared by the chaos goblin - looked at the end of her rope.
Then - "Oh, is that who you wanted to summon? Why didn't you say so?" She drifted over, handing her empty drink off to a disgruntled looking Batman, and began rummaging through the unused magival supplies left over from the - failed - summoning circle. "Here, give me like, five minutes."
John was fairly certain his head was about to explode.
"You know how to summon the Ghost King? You?"
Phantom rolled her eyes at him. "Duh, obviously."
"Obviously." Zantanna repeated, looking like she was half a moment away from having a breakdown. She didn't try to stop the ghostly girl, though, and to be fair neither was John. They were already fucked, might as well let the gremlin try her hand at it.
It took less than the five minutes Phantom had claimed she needed.
When she was done there was a significantly smaller circle on the ground. At the cardinal directions of the circle, written clockwise she'd drawn not any magical runes but instead what appeared to be the Roman Numerals for one, then two, then something akin to a sideways T with an additional mark rising upward from the long horizontal bar, then the letter L.
It had to have some kind of ancient magical significance John didn't know as Shazam made a noise like a dying goose and squeaked out the word Loss like it was a question. Phantom gave the Champion of Magic a sharp toothed grin before adding some words in a language John didn't know before she finally allowed gravity to pull her back to earth and plant her feet on the ground.
She wiped her hands together a bit dramatically, looking pleased with herself, but at that point John didn't care. He could feel the building magic, heavy and oppressive as she had begun her task. Unlike the circle he and Zantanna had attempted, this one was working.
He couldn't help thr nervous swallow he gave as Phantom then declared, with a strange amount of seriousness. "All that’s left are the words."
She took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment, and the world went utterly silent around them. This, John could feel, this was the real deal. Fuck him sideways the hellspawn was actually doing it.
Phantom's eyes opened, glowing with that bright eerie green light of her power. Another deep breath and then -
"You are my dad! You're my dad!" He watched, any scraps of hope she'd instilled in him dying an undignified death as she gave a terrible little wiggle dance while she sang(?) Off key, "Boogie woogie woogie!"
Every last person on Earth was going to die and one of John's last moments was going to be spent watching the little undead shit do the Macarena. Well fuck him, he guessed.
Then there was the sound of the veil between the world's tearing in two and the fucking Ghost King was standing in Phantom's summoning circle screaming in a screeching falsetto:
"When will you learn? When will you learn that your actions have consequences!"
You know what actually at this point John would rather the apocalypse kill him.
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munsonthings86 · 5 days
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sunkissed
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: soft morning sex w steve <3
warnings: cursing, fluff, clingy!steve, established relationship, smut, praise, tipsy sex, oral (f receiving), penetration, no protection use
an: today (apr. 14) is the day steve and sunshine met ;) so i wrote something a lil special for them. hope you guys enjoy! *minors dni*
wc: 4.1k
steve and sunshine’s timeline
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It couldn't have been later than six a.m. The waking sun shed an amber light that tinted your white sheer curtains, as they gently swayed in the brisk morning breeze. The wind blew harshly at times, prompting the sleepy boy next to you to nuzzle desperately closer to your heated touch. His lush, chocolate hair tickled your cheek as his head rested softly against yours when he abandoned his own pillow.
A freckled arm held you tightly against him as he spooned you, a breath that still smelled of beer and some other alcohol fanning your cheek. Usually, you recoil at the sour stench of liquor on people, but you couldn't help but to find it a bit endearing at the moment.
It was Steve after all. You found countless things about him endearing. Even his smelly little morning alcohol breath.
Sailing curious, feather-like fingers across his tanned skin that shined in the golden light, you stared at him in awe. His neck was still littered with stains of your lipstick from where you kissed him the night before. If you weren't so comfortable where you laid, trapped in this blanket of Steve, you'd rush to sneak a picture on your polaroid.
You knew exactly which one of your purses you'd want to keep the picture in too. It was only fair seeing as he kept his own photo of you in his wallet. And another on the dashboard of his BMW. And another on his bedside table.
It began getting hard to keep track of them all. Steve didn't mind though. When Steve would be having a less than ideal day, a rare but not uncommon occurrence, he couldn't avoid the grim ache of how much he missed you. It was such a treat when he would randomly stumble upon a picture of you somewhere, powerless against the blush and smile that would come.
The brightness of your room was blinding and unforgiving to the headache your hangover brought. Your hazy eyes stung when you tried to ogle the sunrise but you willingly gazed anyway. The sky was a gentle blue, cloudless, and full of melodic birds.
The moon still sat high and mighty, glowing, as it was being kissed by the sun's light.
It was such a breathtaking sight. A needle of guilt pricked you when you realized that you were witnessing it all alone.
Your fingers twitched when you thought about waking Steve, but he just looked too peaceful sleeping like this; lips puffy and dry from all his snoring and sleepy mumbles— hair perfectly untamed. Some rogue strands fell over his eyes, enticing you to gently sweep them behind his ears, careful not to wake him.
He groaned when you were unable to resist scratching at his scalp, eyebrows furrowing as his tired eyes failed to stay open. Not careful enough, apparently. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," you apologized in a hushed tone, apologetic smile to match.
"That's alright," he mumbled through a small grin, exhaustion weighing his voice down. Unfolding his body from the curled position he was in, his body tensed when he full-body stretched. You loved watching Steve wake up. It was like watching a flower bloom in real time. "What time is it?"
"Almost six," you responded after taking a glance at the dainty clock hung above your vanity. Steve's eyes widened as if he was startled. "Jesus, why're you up so early," you think you hear him say through his yawn. He laid his head down on your chest when he settled.
The hair that draped over his face was pushed back by your fingers so you could admire his lengthy eyelashes from this angle. "Maybe because somebody wouldn't stop kicking me in his sleep," you quipped, poking a finger at his side.
He scoffed in return before adjusting his head to stare back at you, "Well, I hope you find the guy who did that because I, personally, do not kick in my sleep."
You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, tell that to my leg." Steve shrugged as if you insisted on the matter, tossing the duvet over his head before trailing down to your legs. "What're you-"
The question was cut off with a muttered, "I do not kick in my sleep." He prodded at your thigh after each word to accentuate his (false) statement. Giggling at him, you waited for him to return from under the covers but he didn't move. It fell a bit quiet even. "Did ya get lost down there, Harrington?"
"Something like that," soft, sedative kisses to your hip punctuated his reply. It was so easy to be distracted once he had this view of you. Plump thighs that he wanted to sink his teeth into, stomach that he wanted to pepper kisses on, and a tempting honeypot that made his mouth water, on full display for him.
It was a trap that he unintentionally fell into, but was fully delighted to be in, nonetheless. You lifted the duvet from over his head, tittering at the mischievous grin on his face.
Pushing the oversized white shirt that belonged to Steve once upon a time above your belly button, he found comfort between your legs. A knot in the pit of your stomach formed at the tasty mix of curiosity and anticipation manifesting from all that was unfolding.
With booze still lingering in your system, your body was more sensitive than usual. Every little touch Steve gave you sparked electricity along your skin and, greedily, your body chased the sensation each time, clearly unable to stave off its hunger.
His hair tickled you dangerously close to your core and your body seemed to have a mind of its own, hips bucking up on his face involuntarily.
He simply smirked at you, indiscreetly relishing in the way you reacted to him so easily. So needily. Grabbing at your waist, the pads of his fingers pressed hard onto you, and you were sure the two of you would fuse. Your eyebrows pinched themselves together, tighter and tighter, the more impatient you became, mumbled pleas stumbling out of your lips.
Steve reluctantly broke eye contact with you to look down at your heated core that he was certain was desperate for his attention.
Pinning your lower half to the mattress, he left a few taunting pecks to your lacy underwear, loving the way your puffy lips felt against his mouth. A low groan eluded Steve when your nails tugged lightly at his roots after clutching a handful of his hair. The vibration from the sound was like a dull shock to your pulsating cunt.
As if the kisses weren't egging you on enough, the tip of his tongue started flitting about, sweetly licking at your clit and in between your folds. His movements were slow and calculated; giving you just enough but leaving much to be desired, all at once. It was becoming unbearable.
Any discipline you had left in you was long gone.
With one hand gripping Steve’s hair and the other twisting at a stiffened nipple, you tried to keep yourself steady as you grinded yourself against Steve’s face while quiet moans fell from your lips.
His tongue had quit its dance and he wasn’t kissing where you needed him anymore. Instead, he grinned; gawking at you through his eyelashes as you selfishly didn't stop using his face to get what you wanted.
It's almost too much to look at him.
His cock twitched and strained against his boxers, savoring the way you were getting so lost in pleasure. Steve caught how you struggled to maintain eye contact with him whilst you shamelessly flaunted your lack of self restraint.
The pillow by your head fell victim to the squeezing and kneading trap of your hand, helping to keep you grounded. Soft whimpers that poked through the silence of the room were nothing short of music to his ears. Steve always found himself captivated when you got like this. You were so hot.
It’s almost too much to look at you.
"Steve," you fussed. "It's too early to be teasing me like this." Though you were being sincere, you laughed a bit amid your desperation. Steve's carelessness to shave for the past few days left stubble on his jaw and the friction it gave you against your soaked panties was too enthralling.
"Never too early for that," he laughed, tracing a finger along the intricate patterns of your racy bottoms, "but anything for my princess."
He could never say no to you. There were no bounds to what his angel deserved. Your body was hungry and his mouth was thirsty.
Fingers wrapped around the hem of the flimsy material, he unveiled your needy core to his even needier mouth. He drew his own undergarments down with a single hand, the other finding your waist as he settled himself between the sweet temptation of your legs once more.
Steve garnered a mouthful of saliva before slowly spilling it onto your cunt. He watched, mouth agape, as it crept, long, wet and sloppy from the top of your sex to the bottom. It blended in seamlessly with all the arousal pooling around your folds and dripping down your ass.
A reflexive moan slipped from you when he blew cool air onto it, the sensitivity making your body react. He hummed, staring intently at your gorgeous, sopping hole. Any minute now, he was going to be drooling all over himself.
He dotted smooches to your bikini line, addicted to how the sounds you made practically begged him to ease the burden between your legs. Tongue swiping across his lips as if he was starved, he was certain that you were the most appetizing thing he had ever laid eyes on.
His dark, lustful eyes never left yours while he laid his tongue flat against your vagina, a pleased sigh luring itself out at the taste. The sudden contact hoisted your body off the bed.
Steve's eyes flutter shut when you let out the prettiest moan for him. It only drives him to devour you deeper, completely determined to lap up every drop of your nectar. He was already eager to feel you clench and shake against him as you came. The thought alone sent his body to grind his erection against the firm bed.
The satin sheets you dressed your mattress in were smooth and kind of cold on his cock.
Watching Steve like this was so hypnotizing. Him embraced by your thighs, hair wild, eyebrows knitted with threads of lust and focus, chin soaked from making out with your pussy, and fucking himself on your bed from how feral he was; it was all so dirty it left you speechless.
He didn't even have to touch you, really. Just seeing him be so primal was enough to leave you a moaning mess. Brainless for him. Fuck.
Steve's tongue instantly lands on your clit when he goes to tease it, being so familiar with your body and all. He was so hooked on the way you tasted, that he would eat you for hours on end, if you'd let him. He didn't tire. Steve loved the way he could send you into a frenzy with just his tongue. He got so much pleasure from seeing you in pleasure. It was so fucking sexy.
You were already close to your peak considering how aroused and needy you'd been for the past few minutes. Whining when he unlatched from you, he hushed you, running a thumb from your clit down to your entrance.
He didn't warn you before slipping in his long, slender pointer finger and you both let out a satisfied groan. While you moaned at the penetration, Steve moaned at the way your warm, dripping cunt easily dragged him in, gripping his digit. He used his hand to help you reach the high he knew was coming, curling and pumping in and out of you just the way you liked.
His mouth wasn't done with you yet, though.
Steve's tongue was frantic and slippery across your wetness. Your fingers were lost and running amuck in his brunette tresses as you struggled to cling onto reality. Legs trembling and chest heaving as your breathing got rapid, "Steve, Steve, Steve," tore out of you as if it was the only word in your vocabulary.
You didn't have to say anything else. He knew exactly what time it was.
"Mhm," he hums into you. The resonance from his voice tickles your clit perfectly and it's what you need to launch you over the edge. You slipped into a deep pool of euphoria, completely coming undone for him.
Both of your shaky hands held Steve's head firmly against you, giving him nowhere to go but right where you needed him. "Let it go, baby. Give it all to me," his muffled voice wavered a little as he coaxed you delicately.
If your hangover wasn't already making you dizzy enough, then Steve definitely was.
"That's it," he insisted, sweeping a comforting hand along your hips, "Just ride it out for me." His thrusts against the bed nearly brought him to an orgasm of his own but he was determined to save it for you. The way your hole pulsated, it was like it was calling for Steve to fill it.
The tight hold you had on his hair loosened as he crept his way up your body, leaving a trail of kisses behind the further he got.
His face was soaked and covered in an elixir of his spit and your juices, and some of it found solace on your own face when he leaned down to kiss you. The lewdness of it all turned you on more if that was even possible. His smile at you was dopey and naughty and it's wildly infectious.
"How're you feelin'?"
"Dizzy," you confessed, tucking some of his hair behind his ear though it doesn't make it look much neater. Concern straightened Steve's face in the blink of an eye, "Good dizzy or bad dizzy?" The pads of his fingers rushed to your temple to sooth you.
"Good dizzy, for sure," you kissed at his flushed, puffy lips in pure bliss. "Such a good dizzy," your hand trailed down from his stomach to his throbbing member. He was so hard it made you gasp. Steve tended to be harder than usual in the mornings, but this was different.
"You're so hard, oh my God," giggling against his lips, you stroked him agonizingly slow and steady.
"Well, duh. Prettiest girl in the world just came all over my face. How could I not be this hard for you?" His words hitched in his throat when your thumb spread his precum across the tip of his cock, groans rushing out of him.
He thrusted into your hand eagerly, but you soon stopped your movements, much to Steve's dismay. "God, you're such a little tease," he dropped his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling the flirty perfume that still dwelled on your skin.
From your ear to your collarbone, he showered you in open-mouthed kisses, whimpers and throaty hums pouring out when he grinded himself against your velvety ass like a dog in heat.
You could tell how badly he needed you.
"And you're such a little hypocrite," a smile played at your lips, "but you're lucky. 'Cause I need you just as bad," you purred, stretching your leg behind his waist, bringing Steve to hold up your knee.
He slapped his cock on your entrance a number of times before running it along your folds, coating himself in your dripping mess. A hearty moan from you set off sparks in Steve's chest when he plunged his hard length into you.
Your pussy welcomed him in with open arms, surely not wanting him to leave as it gripped him tightly when he pulled out only to thrust right back into you.
His and your moans harmonized as you both reveled in the fervor. A hand flew to the back of Steve's head and held him there, loving the way he stretched you so perfectly. His cock was just the way you liked it; thick and veiny in such a way that it caressed your walls inexplicably well. It's a sensation so good that it makes your mind happily go blank and numb.
You were completely at Steve's mercy.
Steve caught your lips when they fell ajar, kissing you deeply. His head went fuzzy when you moaned shamelessly into his mouth, tongues colliding. Your racing pulse thumped against his fingers as he held you by your neck. Pulling away from the kiss, he slid his hand down your chest and stopped right where your heart beat, reminding you to breathe.
Still, his cock trucked in and out of you at a pace that was so delicious. It wasn't too fast and was in no way slow. It was exactly what you both needed.
"Shit, you feel so good."
Droning, you were unable to form any words other than fuck, yes, and Steve. Your mind, body, and soul was burning with a desire and yearn for him. Eyelids low and flickering, you put up a fight to keep your eyes from closing so that you could cherish this sight of him.
Sweeping back his hair, his eyes fluttered shut when you rubbed at his ear, knowing that he liked it so much when you did that, especially in moments like these. Steve loved the way you felt around him, of course, but it was the little intimate touches that really drove him over the edge. Steve wanted to stay here forever.
Your t-shirt bunched up around your chest, leaving your bouncing breasts on full display for him. Your face pulled against his, breath fanning his face as you mewled and moaned and begged. Pleading, glimmering eyes never leaving him. God, how scenic. You were so dreamy. Steve almost wasn't sure if he was still asleep or not.
You grinded yourself back against him, husky moans sounding from the boy that was making you feel so fucking good. Every hard thrust he gave, teased that little sensitive spot inside of you, and you swore you were in some sort of heaven. You cried out, back curving in ecstasy.
"There it is, yeah," he grunted, resting his hand on the spot where your back arched. "Right there, baby?"
Nodding your head hurriedly, a plethora of "yeah"s tripped out of your lips. He thrusted into your dripping core relentlessly, feeling you clench around him tightly. Your eyes were screwed shut and your legs were shaking like leaves in wind.
That, coupled with the gratification Steve was giving himself earlier, he already knew he wasn't going to last much longer but he needed to see you cum again one more time. At least.
His hand ran down your sweaty frame to where your bodies met, drawing circles at your clit.
"I love that. I love this," he praised the way you clenched around his shaft whenever he touched your clit while he was inside of you. It was wildly addicting. Steve couldn't put into words how heavenly you truly felt. He couldn't believe that you were his.
The moans you let out were breathy and frequent, a sure sign that you weren't far behind your climax either.
"You sound so pretty, baby," he whimpered, nudging his head so that his ear was pressed to your lips, not wanting to miss a single little noise you made for him. His clumsy fingers worked tirelessly at your clit. You held onto his wrist as you became consumed by bliss.
His and your hips collide when you buck yourself back against him as your cunt choked down on his cock, body writhing. If you carried on like this, soon you'd be seeing stars.
It's a nirvana that your past lovers were never able to take you to. Not the way Steve could. Steve loved watching you cum. He'd do anything to get you to cum.
"F-Fuck, that's so good. You're doing so good, sunshine. You're so fucking pretty like this. It’s unreal. Holy shit," he babbled. If Steve didn't stop now, he'd surely explode.
While riding out your orgasm, you felt him go suddenly absent. "Why'd you pull out," you whined, head falling back onto your pillow in protest. But trust him, it's the last thing that he wanted to do.
"Because I was about to fucking cum," he whined back, laughing a bit as he squeezed the base of his raging cock. "When you cum you get so tight. It feels so fucking good, you have no idea, baby," he cooed, rushing back into you, already missing your warmth.
After your two orgasms, your hole was impossibly wet and hot and Steve's dick was absolutely drowning. It doesn't take Steve much to utterly crumble. He was now at your mercy, all whiny and needy and desperate for you, fucking you faster and deeper than before. His gaze never dared to leave your face. You were so beautiful it made his chest ache.
If there were a textbook solely dedicated to beauty, there was no doubt in Steve's head that you'd be plastered all over it. Just look at you.
"How're you so perfect, huh? Why are you so perfect? It's not fair, baby, I swear," his thrusts were becoming sloppy and offbeat. "You could get away with anything with a face like this." Steve Harrington. The king of praise. If his cock or mouth couldn't make you cum, his words surely could.
"You gonna cum for me, Steve?" His forehead dropped onto yours as he nodded, beads of sweat falling on your face and you can't say that you mind at all.
Steve loved having you under him like this. Loved having his hands laced through yours on either side of your head, your legs wrapped tight around him, keeping him in. Loved being able to lower his head just a few centimeters to have his lips clash with yours. He just wanted to kiss you and love you and fuck you like this all damn the time.
"Oh, baby." His mouth falls open as whimpers and moans and groans spill everywhere, warm cum spurting into you. Goosebumps erupted all over his body. As he came, his greedy, convulsing body pushed further and further into you, chasing down his high incessantly.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, keeping him close, while you peppered his contorted face in pecks that were gentle, in contrast to the intensity his body was feeling.
The repeated, grating clanks of your metal headboard beating against your wall slowed and soon quieted once Steve collapsed onto you, totally fucked out and sleepy all over again.
"Fuck, that was so good, princess." A smile pulled at your lips in agreement.
His breathing was heavy and you chose to calm him down by playing with the short little hairs that stuck to his skin from all the sweat.
The crook of his neck was in your face and you noticed the lipstick stains you saw earlier still hadn't faded.
"It looks like you have a sky on your neck," you lilted, finger ghosting over the area below his ear. The sentence made Steve's eyebrows scrunch together. Confused, understandably. Still, he was curious to know what you meant. "I have a what now?"
You reached for the compact mirror on your end table, opening it to give Steve a look, "A sky!"
He blushed at your sweet giggle. "These kiss marks kinda look like clouds and your moles are the stars," you traced them as you spoke. "See? It's a sky," you affirmed with a smile.
Steve only stared back at you with the most lovesick grin on his face. He still couldn't believe you were his. He rested his head back down on your shoulder, drawing invisible patterns along your sternum. "I like the way you see things; the way you think about things. It's so adorable and bright. I love your brain. I love you, sunshine."
Your heart undeniably skipped a couple beats at that. Steve always complimented you, but there was something about how sweet and gooey like honey those words were that made you feel like you were going to burst.
"I love you too, Stevie," you took his freckled cheeks in your hands, planting your smiling lips against his own for a kiss, still tasting yourself on his lips. Pulling away, you ogled the way he beamed, completely and utterly glowing in front of you, the same way the moon outside glowed when it was kissed by the sun's light.
The moon only glows when kissed by the sun.
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💌 1 new message from jojo: smut isn’t really in my skillset so im a little unsure abt this lol. but i wrote this with a lot of love, nonetheless! feedback is so greatly appreciated!
711 notes · View notes
roosterr · 7 months
Text
whatchya got, boy?
note: requested by @wetsocksinbed :D this fic came to me in a prophetic vision as soon as i read that ask, all i have to say is i was cackling maniacally while writing it. bon apetit.
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pairing: john 'soap's mactavish x gn!reader
wc: 4.4k
summary: soap is scared of dogs, you're a k9 handler. your dog is good at finding bodies, he doesn't ever want him to have to find yours.
warnings: angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence
ao3
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soap has never liked dogs.
when people ask him why, he tells them that it's just how he is. he wasn't bitten by one, it's not a trauma response, he just doesn't like them, plain and simple. being in the military and having a phobia of dogs is like painting a giant red target on his forehead, so in the interest of not getting relentlessly made fun of, he keeps it to himself.
until recently, it hasn't been a problem.
then you came along, with your quick wit and charming smile, and he was a goner from the moment you first met.
price had given them your files, told them you and your partner are on loan to the one-four-one for the next few months while they track down a particularly slippery target. the term partner had initially disappointed soap, but then you'd both marched into the room with your heads held high, and he realised;
oh. your partner is a dog.
a german shepherd, to be precise. you're a canine handler, like the universe is playing a trick on him – he hasn't been genuinely interested in someone in god knows how long, and when he finally finds somebody, you're accompanied at all hours by one of the few things he fears.
he's about ready to give up on pursuing you before the briefing is even over, but as the others all stand and file out of the meeting room, your partner comes bounding up to him in all his fanged, furry glory and soap almost has a heart attack.
"he doesn't usually trust strangers," you told him as your dog sits at his feet and wags his tail so hard it might be at risk of dislocation. johnny’s moments away from bolting, the fear climbing up his nerves like constricting vines.
"lucky me, eh?" he smiles at you, which was honestly more like a grimace, but somehow you're not offended by his obvious dislike of your partner. you let out a laugh, and the sound is so melodic he almost forgets about the beast waiting at his heel.
"you can pet him," you grin knowingly, and soap gets the sinking feeling you've figured him out already, "he doesn't bite – not unless i tell him to."
"cheers, but i'll pass…" johnny attempts to protest, in the motion of taking a step back, but you grab his hand before he can escape and drag it down to your dog's face with an amused grin.
"his name's rex." he hears you say, but the way your dog is sniffing at his hand has every muscle in his body tensing involuntarily. he's mortified that you're seeing him react like this, he already knows he'll never be able to live this down once the others find out.
when rex chuffs and starts to lick at his hand, johnny feels like his soul might leave his body. the sharp teeth so close to his skin is so unnerving, the only thing stopping him from making a run for it is your soft grip still around his wrist.
he looks to you for help, but you're watching him with a mischievous grin that sends his heart aflutter.
"see? that wasn't so bad." you chuckle, crouching down next to your dog and thankfully taking rex's attention off him. johnny breathes a quiet sigh of relief, wiping his wet hand on his trousers as he watches you fuss over the canine.
you're endearing, and johnny has to admit that seeing you coo at rex like he's a baby makes him slightly less terrifying.
"price put you up to this?" he asks, holding back a flinch when rex looks up at the sound of his voice.
"he did." you nod, standing back up and meeting his eyes again. "but rex actually does like you. guess you're just charming like that."
"well, thank god for that…" johnny grumbles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. you laugh again, and with the way his pulse quickens, he can't help but send you a cocky grin. "but what i wanna know is, do you like me?"
"hmm…" you feign indecision with a poorly concealed smirk, tapping a finger on your chin before leaning closer and placing a hand on his bicep. "i may need a little more convincing."
after that, johnny can hardly keep himself away from you. 
whenever you're next to him he's got an arm slung over your shoulder, you’re always talking – texting when you’re apart – and any free time he has is spent following you around base, not unlike rex at your heel.
you ask him if he wants to watch you when you train rex, and initially he tries to say no, because he thinks seeing rex practising attacking people might break whatever spell you've cast that makes him not hate the dog; but you drag him along anyway, and he ends up being glad that you did.
it's fascinating, watching rex sniff a shirt from your hand and track down whoever it belongs to with expert precision. it looks almost like a game to the canine, the way his tail swings back and forth the whole time as he effortlessly completes any task you give him.
he finds the dummies you hide with ease, even when they're buried under piles of boxes and clothes and various other obstacles. johnny actually finds himself respecting the dog, which is shocking since a few weeks ago he never would've been able to handle even being in the same room as one.
you give johnny the treats to feed rex, which makes him nervous all over again when the canine looks up at him with wide eyes and all his sharp teeth on display. it takes some coaxing from you, but eventually he gets comfortable enough to let rex take a treat from his hand. he may not admit it, but the only reason he even lets rex get so close is because you're there. simply your presence gives him the courage, makes him feel secure.
"when this is over," johnny begins, hand twitching under rex's tongue and looking at you with such fondness it feels like his heart is about to burst, "i'll take you out proper, treat you right."
you blink at him, surprised, but not a moment later a wide smile is taking over your face. "i look forward to it, mactavish."
the others, particularly gaz and ghost, give him hell for how infatuated he's become with you, but their teasing doesn't deter him. he likes you, and he doesn't care if everybody knows it; you like him too, and that's all he really cares about.
now, sitting in the heli on the way to what they hope will be the final location for this mission, he was almost disappointed to be done with it. you were only on loan for this mission, so once they have their target, you'd be gone. he was hoping, optimistically, that once everything was said and done he could convince you to stay with the one-four-one. he was sure he could talk price into it, and though it was selfish of him, he just wanted you to stay by his side.
you're sitting next to him in the back of the aircraft, rex between your legs with his head resting on your thigh, staring up at johnny with those big brown eyes. without even thinking, he reaches a hand out and ruffles the fur on his head, earning a nudge and an adoring smile from you when he looks over.
"he might like you better than me," you tease, scratching behind rex's ear who was yet to take his eyes off of johnny.
"don't be jealous now, bonnie." he chuckles, returning the nudge to your shoulder. "you can have 'im on weekends."
you grin again and lightly shake your head, taking rex's face in your hands and bending over to press a kiss to the top of his head. "you love me the most, right boy?"
before long, the helicopter is landing and the five of you – plus rex – are following the captain out into the forest. it's cold when they exit the heli, night vision goggles highlighting the terrain through the darkness of the night.
the silence buzzes as you all stalk through the trees. johnny pays more attention to you than he should as you walk beside him, anxiety lighting up his nerves for how this mission will go.
as according to the plan, once the manor is in sight, you all split off into teams of two; him and ghost, price and gaz, and you and rex. he trusted you to do well, like you have been doing for the last few months, but he can't help the way his shoulders tense as he watches you disappear around the corner.
the building is guarded, which was expected of course, but they only had to take down a dozen or so guards until the place was barren.
the corridors were eerily deserted, bathed in a moonlit glow as johnny crept around the manor, following closely behind ghost with both of their heads on a swivel. the radio was quiet, by design for the mission plan, but somehow this time felt different, like they wouldn't hear him if he did call out.
it's the beeping that gives it away. so faint, he almost missed it, but his senses are sharpened like a blade – and as a demolitions specialist, he knows the sound of an explosive when he hears it.
johnny carefully pushes open the door to his right, scanning the room for any movement and finding none, but when his gaze lands on the centre of the room, his pulse skips a beat.
propane canisters, fuse linking them all together, and most concerning, a timer on top blinking at him; two minutes, ticking down with a sickening green glow.
"ghost," he calls, his voice hard and serious as the anxiety builds again, "it's rigged."
ghost steps into the doorway next to him, following johnny's arm as he points to the device.
"fuck." he spits, stepping back and clicking the radio on his vest, but no sound comes out. ghost curses again, looking back to johnny with a tense expression that the sergeant mirrors. "radios aren't workin' either. let's move, c'mon."
there's no room for argument in his tone, marching back the way they came with johnny in tow.
as they emerge back out into the night, price and gaz appear from around the corner, both lifting their goggles and approaching with concern evident on their faces.
"what happened?" price's gaze darts around behind them as he speaks, as if waiting for someone to jump out and attack.
"the place is rigged, we have to go." ghost explains, already moving past them and away from the manor.
the captain nods, gesturing for johnny and gaz to follow as he tries his radio with no luck, just like ghost. the pit of anxiety lingered, getting heavier by the second.
"move it, soap." price commands, a deep frown creasing his brow.
but johnny doesn't move. "hold on, where's k-9?" he asks, a frown of his own pulling his features downwards.
"radios are down, we don't have time to look for 'em." ghost calls over to them, earning a solemn nod from the captain, who tries to move him with a hand on his shoulder.
the radios are down, you have no way of knowing the building is rigged. there's no way johnny's about to leave you on your own in the blind, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did.
"no. i'm not leavin' without 'em." johnny growls, his face morphing into a frown as he brushes off the captain's arm and turns to go back inside.
"they might already be outside." gaz tries to reason, stepping in front of him and blocking him from the doorway. kyle's regretful gaze cuts through him, and there's the distinct feeling that everyone else has already given up on you. "we have to move, mate."
johnny scoffs. "fuck that! i can't just leave 'em!" he hisses, insulted by the very idea of leaving one of their own to fend for themselves. no, that's not how they operate, that's not how he operates.
a flash of anger shoots through him and he's about to shove past gaz, but before he can move, price is yanking him away.
"soap!" he growls, shaking him slightly as he grabs johnny's other arm. "get it together, you are not goin' back in there."
before he can argue, he's being grabbed by ghost and dragged away from the manor with him as the other two jog ahead of them into the treeline. 
"oi!" johnny shouts, struggling in the lieutenants iron grip, but to no avail. ghost practically drags him along as he digs his heels into the dirt, writhing in an attempt to escape and go back for you.
he's desperate, he can't lose you, not before he takes you on that date, he promised, you can't die yet–
johnny blinks, the deep, rumbling boom completely derailing his thoughts and starting a piercing ringing in his ears.
white hot fire bursts from the windows of the manor, showering the surrounding area in shards of glass and debris as the heat escapes the building in waves. 
no.
everything seemed to stop around him. ghost stopped trying to drag him away, the trees stopped blowing in the wind, he almost stopped breathing. the world pauses as the walls of the manor are engulfed in flames.
no.
johnny rips his arm out of ghost's grip and stumbles back towards the manor, his mind floating out of his body.
"no!" johnny wails, ignoring the heat on his face and taking a shaky step over the jagged stone and glass that crunches under his boot, "no! they're still–" his voice breaks, "they're still in there, for fucks sake!"
"johnny!" ghost shouts, grabbing him by the strap on the back of his vest and yanking him sharply away from the blaze. "they're gone." he mutters, purposefully avoiding soap's glassy eyes.
"shut the fuck up!" he cries, thumping his fist against ghost's chest and clawing at the arm holding him back. the tears spill from his eyes hard and fast, constricting his throat and blurring his vision.
he falls to his knees with his head in his hands and ghost lets him, the debris that litters the ground sharp against his flesh, but nothing compared to the pain in his chest.
it wasn't supposed to go like this.
you were supposed to come back, and he was supposed to take you out and give you a perfect date and he'd kiss you at the end of the night and now he'd never get to do any of that because–
you're gone. slipped through his fingers like sand into the ocean.
"c'mon, johnny." he hears ghost mutter, his voice distant even though he's right there, pulling him to stand by his arm. "let's regroup."
he doesn't struggle this time, shaking himself free of his lieutenant's grip and shuffling past him with his head hanging low. if there was a god, he's sure they're laughing at him by now. it all felt like some kind of cruel joke; give him hope by granting him someone to love after all these lonely years, and then rip you out of his arms before he can know the happiness you would bring him.
he and ghost don't get far before he hears the lieutenant stop in his tracks, but he doesn't care to know why, the hollow feeling in his chest won't allow him to.
"the dog…" ghost utters from behind him, an air of disbelief in his monotone voice. johnny freezes, a cold dread travelling up his spine as he hears the unmistakable sound of rex's claws padding towards them.
he turns slowly on his heel, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.
your dog is standing in front of him.
"rex…?" he calls softly, taking in the dust and ash and dirt and blood caked into his rich brown fur, illuminated by the fire still raging. rex barks, tilting his head like he's confused, and johnny falls to his knees again, uncaring for the way the rubble tears through his trousers and his skin. "no, no no no no–"
rex is alone. you're not with him. he doesn't go anywhere without you, and that can only mean one thing.
the confirming thought alone shatters the dam completely.
the sobs wrack his body and johnny gathers rex into his arms, hugging him tightly to his chest, burying his face into his thick fur despite the filth that coats the both of them. he whimpers and whines in johnny's ear, and the sound only makes his heart hurt even more.
a few months ago he never would've dreamed he'd be hugging a dog, but you changed that; you'd helped him work on his fear, and even if rex was the only one he could tolerate, it was still leagues better than what he could accomplish without you.
but now you’re gone, and neither of them have you to fall back on.
johnny sinks his fingers deep into rex's fur, sniffling pathetically because he may have lost you, but your canine lost his entire world and he would never understand where you went, why you left him all alone, why you weren’t coming back.
rex begins to wriggle in his arms, and soap knows he wants him to let go but he can't bring himself to. this dog is all he has left of you now; he would take care of your beloved canine, it doesn't matter if he was still terrified in the back of his mind.
after a painful few minutes, jonny regains the awareness to remember where they are and the fact that ghost is still watching him break down with the dog in his arms. with a trembling sigh, he loosens his hold on rex and pulls back, wiping a dusty hand over his eyes.
as he pushes himself to stand rex barks again, startling johnny with a jolt of panic before bounding back the way he came, away from him and ghost.
johnny frowns. "hey, don't run," he mutters, ambling after the canine as he pads backwards. every time johnny gets close, rex slips just out of reach before he can grab him.
ghost sighs, but allows him to go after the dog, keeping a watchful eye on them as they get further away.
the way he was running along and looking back to make sure johnny was following reminded him a worrying amount of how he acted in his training. the training where you would hide a dummy for him and johnny would reward him with treats when he led you to the fake body.
"no, no rex," except this time, the body wouldn't be fake. "please, boy, just come back…"
rex doesn't react to his pleading, determined to lead him to what johnny knows he’s found, but desperately wants to deny anyway. he tries to stop, to turn back and never have to face the reality of you being gone, but the canine won't let him. he takes johnny's trousers between his razor teeth and growls, deep and threatening, as he tries to pull him along.
the sound makes johnny freeze, fear clawing at the back of his mind as an instinctual reaction, but he blinks hard and pushes through it. "alright, i'm comin'..."
rex lets go once he’s sure he’ll follow again, trotting ahead with the occasional check behind him to make sure johnny was still there. he follows the canine past the rubble, through the treeline, and into the underbrush where the sick feeling in his throat only grows stronger.
he doesn't bother with the night vision goggles. the fire provides enough waving light for him to just about see where he’s going, and he really has no desire to see what rex is guiding him to.
johnny almost trips over him when the canine comes to an abrupt stop, his wide eyes trained on a bush to johnny’s left.
the dread pooling in his stomach becomes suffocating.
"wh…?" he swallows thickly, crouching down to rex's level and placing a hand on his back, feeling his laboured breath that matches his own. "...whatchya got, boy?"
rex barks and noses at the branches of the bush, before stepping backwards a few paces and looking expectantly between johnny and the shrub.
johnny stares at the bush. no amount of training could've prepared him for the terror he feels imagining what he’ll find on the other side of it. as if sensing his hesitation, rex barks again to spur him on, but it only makes his heart sink further.
his hand shakes as he reaches for the branches. there's a stutter in his heartbeat, a hitch in his breath, as he pushes them aside to reveal–
"bleedin' fuckin' jesus–" johnny cries, jumping through the foliage to couch over your weakened form, forgetting his fear all together as he ruffles rex's fur with both hands and a breaking smile when he barks again. "oh good boy rex! good boy, fuckin' hell!"
it's you, blood and ash smeared across your skin and your chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and johnny's just so happy you're alive he can't think to be afraid when rex snaps at his hands in a misdirected effort to protect you. he presses both hands against the slice in your abdomen, using the few medical supplies in his vest to help stop the bleeding as the tears being to well again.
"shit, stay with me, hun, i've got ye…" he mumbles, putting all his weight onto your stomach. "ghost! help me!"
the rest is a blur.
they carry you to the helicopter, rex barking protectively between their legs the whole way until he can lay on guard between your legs on take off.
when they finally touch down back at base, johnny has to grab rex by the vest so the medics can carry you out, wrestling him away as he barks and whines in protest. johnny stays with the canine while you're in surgery and for the days you're asleep, making sure he's fed and allowing him to sleep in his room so he won’t be alone – despite how uncomfortable it makes him, and how little sleep he gets because of it.
it's four days until you wake up.
he's not the first to find out, but as soon as the words reach his ears he’d racing down the corridors and bursting through the infirmary doors with enough intensity to make you jump out of your skin. the sight of you sitting up and talking to price almost has his eyes watering again, but he pushes that urge down.
he approaches your bed more carefully, a wobbly smile pulling at his lips under your warm gaze. with an understanding look, price is patting him on the shoulder as he passes by and leaving the two of you alone with each other.
"aren't you a sight for sore eyes," johnny grins, taking a seat in the chair next to your bed and grasping your hand in his. a smile lifts your features as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there as a heat rises in his cheeks.
"i could say the same, my knight in shining armour." you reply, moving your hand to cradle the side of his head and smoothing your thumb over his brow. he revels in the contact, the tension bleeding from his muscles under your touch. "where's rex?"
"he's fine, i made sure." he reassures you, and you let out a sigh of relief at his words, visibly relaxing into the pillows holding you up. "tried sneakin' him in here, but the nurses wouldn't have it."
a laugh escapes you, the sound still managing to make his heart feel light, even all these months later. "can't imagine why," you tease, gently nudging his head as he chuckles along with you.
it feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, finally having you with him again. his eyes flutter shut as the relief washes over him, and a minute passes where neither of you speak, simply basking in each other's presence.
there's a scratching sound at the door that interrupts the peace and quiet, and the two of you share a knowing smile. not a moment later, the door is being pulled open just enough for rex to slip through and skid towards your bed on the linoleum floor, wagging his tail at breakneck speed.
before the door can completely close, johnny catches a glimpse of gaz’s mischievous grin and groans, but he doesn't have time to yell at him before he’s out of sight and rex is distracting him by leaping onto your bed.
you wheeze as your canine braces his paws on your chest and begins his assault on your face, licking every inch of skin he can reach with a series of excited chuffs and narrowly missing johnny’s head with his swinging tail.
"hi rex! you saved my life, didn’t you boy?" you giggle, affectionately ruffling his fur and planting kisses of your own on his face. "who’s a good boy? who’s the best sniffer dog ever?"
johnny clears his throat, drawing your attention to him as you cuddle rex to your chest. "i don’t want’a blow my own horn here, but i saved yer life too…" he gives you that lopsided grin, a playful glint in his eyes that makes you laugh again.
"you want some pets too?" you chuckle, reaching over and dragging his head over to you by a hand on the back of his neck. "good job, johnny, you’re a good boy too." you coo, pressing your lips to his forehead and the tip of his nose as you ruffle his mohawk like rex’s fur.
the effect is immediate. his cheeks burn again with a striking red blush, and he chokes on his breath in bashful embarrassment under your ministrations. he hopes you haven't noticed his reaction, but the way your laugh bubbles up again he can tell you’ve caught on.
"i think i like that more than i should, bonnie." he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. you hum sweetly, your warm breath fanning over his face.
"don’t short circuit on me yet, soap, you still owe me a date."
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tagging: @cheezbites
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deardoiloveyou · 5 months
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Falling asleep on HP boys₊˚ʚ ₊
Notes: Fluff, really really soft, no mentions of smut/violence, takes place during goblet of fire, established friendship
Summary: basically just hp boys crushing over you
Characters: Harry potter (the man the myth the legend), Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy
A/N: when I was making this header i was somewhat giggling bc Draco is the only one smiling while ron and harry look so serious
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*ੈੈੈ♡ Harry
After babbling for hours upon hours about quidditch and other topics that Harry just couldn't keep himself from spewing about, the thoughts that kept Harry's mind off of the tantalizing task of opening the shiny egg, you finally began to feel drowsy
A sense of relief washed over you once Harry finally took a much needed breath and paused, yet sadly for you he took that relief away from you again, but before he engulfed himself too much into his one-sided conversation, he realized how droopy your eyelids were becoming, how your breathing was so calm and quiet, and how your head suddenly started leaning closer and closer onto his shoulder until he couldn't do anything about it.
Harry softly whispered, "Sorry, y/n...I must bore you quite a bit"
Your eyes lightly fluttered open, "Not at all, Harry, I love your voice" you said in a quiet whisper
Harry couldn't tell if he was dreaming or not, he never thought such a simple compliment could have resonated so deeply within his heart. Harry of course got attention and praise, but when you did so he felt himself practically melting, he loved you dearly. And you knew it.
You closed your eyes again, moving your hand closer to his until he carefully put his hand on top of yours. The silence was almost comforting, just knowing you were both safe and together eased Harry's troubled mind.
In the end, you both fell asleep and it was an adorable sight to Ron and Hermione, they made sure to gently tease you two about it the next day♡
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₊˚⊹♡ Ron
Ron absolutely loves cuddling with you, seeing you comfy and buried in a soft blanket practically melts his heart to the core
So he isn't surprised that by the time he's done ranting to you about how his day went, you were just about to fall into a deep slumber (that might I say was much needed)
Ron got extremely smug once you laid your head onto his shoulder, it was like a scene out of one of those muggle movies, so romantic
Ron did give a soft yet endearing laugh when you reached for his hand, saying, "Oh, darling, do you need sum'fin?"
That was Ron's way of saying "something"
Your eyes slightly widened at the sweet nickname, but you just wanted more of his affection at this point
You gave him a weak pouting face before he gently held your hand
Ron on the exterior was smug but that wasn't the case for what he was feeling. His heart was racing at an abnormal level, he found his breath hitching and his eyes trying to find anything to look at but you - mostly because he was so incredibly flustered
You both fell fast asleep, Harry and Hermione couldn't help but think you two were adorable and that made Ron very flustered
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Draco
Draco was mumbling to you, you were so exhausted you could barely tell what he was saying at this point but you were able to make out Draco saying
"Pottah is insufferable"
Or something else about "stewpid pottah", you couldn't care less at this rate. Your exhaustion started taking over you, you unintentionally started leaning towards Draco's shoulder - which was looking quite comfortable
At first Draco was extremely apprehensive and flicked your forehead to which you swatted his arm, in the end he gave you his "you're an insufferable idiot" look, yet still let you rest on him
Draco's heart was pounding, it felt as though it was about to explode it was racing so fast. Although he kept up his cold exterior, even around you, he couldn't help but melt at your touch
Your warm and soft hand met his cold and tired hands, he flinched at first but realizing you were fast asleep already (so he couldn't lecture you about being "so idiotic", even though you had better grades than he ever did) he just gently placed his hand atop yours
Draco's eyes were lost in exploring you, he never realized how beautiful you were, being this close Draco took the opprotunity to let his eyes wander you for a bit, it was as though he was memorizing every bit of you. He ruffled your hair, gently and ever so endearingly, then his eyes met your lips - and oh my you made him go mad, psychotic even. Draco wanted to kiss you ever so badly, he wanted your lips to crash onto his, alas he knew you could never like him, well at least romantically (or so he thought).
Draco was teased almost all morning having been caught cuddling with you by Pansy, but he didn't care. Draco was replaying that night with you almost constantly, hoping that it would happen again - every night.
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading these little skits, and have a good day ♡
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tojancy · 2 days
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‘say my name, boy’ - ft. jjk men
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saying ‘ i love you ’ after sex w satoru, kento, n suguru!
ɞ⁺ contains : suguru , satoru, kento x fem!reader (seperate), fluff, slightly suggestive, nuditiy, making out, mentions of sex (obv), not proof-read.
ɞ⁺ w.c : total of 1.4k
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SATORU GOJO .ᐟ
Long arms coat you, his skin practically glowing under the soft moonlight. Satoru’s eyes remain shut as he breathes contentedly. Every time you think your boyfriend can’t look any better, he proves you wrong.
You lean to kiss his cheek, bringing a soft smile to his face. Thick, snowy eyelashes remain obstinate, keeping his eyes shut and not looking at you. 
“Are you okay, babe?” Satoru asks after a few moments, breaking the unnerving silence. 
“Hm..? Yeah?” His question confused you.
“You never silent after sex,” His eyes open, leaving you staring into cerulean spherules. “What’s come over my talkative girl? Something on your mind?” His arms tighten over you, pressing you skin-to-skin. 
You giggle once brought close as if it’s the first time he does that. As if you weren’t just having sex with the man. His smile grows at your giggle.
“Not really, I’m okay,” You reassure, but Satoru is less than convinced. You’re always talking about something after going at it. It’s an endearing habit of yours that he’s gotten used to, now finding comfort in. 
“Baby,” he begins in mock sternness, “don’t play with me.”
“I’m not playing, ‘toru,” the syllables come out dragged, “don’t have anything to say, that’s all.”
His expression grows smug, “awh? Was I so good you can’t even speak? How cute.” You roll your eyes at his teasing. 
“You’re so obnoxious, ‘toru,” it’s his turn to roll his eyes. 
A few seconds go by—it’s so easy to lose track of the world around him when you look this angelic. An involuntary smirk fights its way onto his face. “God, you’re so in love with me. Can’t blame you, I’m so perfect.” 
“Oh, shut up, will you?” you chuckle, forehead pressing against his own. “You’re delusional.”
“Please,” he scoffs, responding with sass. “Allow me to prove my point.”
His lips come towards you at an agonizingly slow pace. It’s as if he’s torturing you on purpose, which he probably is. His lips close upon yours softly.
His kiss is electricity, it’s fireworks, it’s a bomb. You’ve been with Satoru for so long, yet his kisses never cease to leave you in a state of bliss.
“‘Love ya, baby,” He says with a soft smile.
“Huh?” You quirk a brow, fighting back a giggle. 
“What?” He’s confused. What did he do wrong this time?
“Say it right, Satoru,” you demand, landing playful taps on his face. “Who loves me?”
“Oh— I love you,” he nods, “Satoru Gojo loves you, my charming, beautiful, gorgeous woman.”
“That’s more like it,” you grow giddy. “ I love you too,” your words come out whispered, moving to press another kiss to his lips.
KENTO NANAMI .ᐟ
“Are you okay, my love?” kento whispers to you, fingers holding your face by the chin and forcing your face to look over at him. 
You hum, fixing your body to fit into his arms. Resting your head over his chest. kento chuckles; you’re not this clingy. But there’s some sense of serenity that washes over you every time he ‘makes love’ to you. It makes you quite lovely, in his eyes at least, more than your regular self. kento would never admit how he wishes you cling to him on a regular basis.
His lips land on the top of your head softly, pressing a soft kiss there. He keeps his head in your hair, smelling your aroma. Sure, you’re sticky with sweat and other… bodily fluids. But that doesn’t make him like you any less.
“Wanna take a bath?” He whispers into your hair, warm breath fanning over your scalp. 
“No…” You manage, voice barely audible. Your words vibrate through his very being. One finger mindlessly traces soft circles on his chest, making him feel slightly ticklish. He doesn’t move, though. “Can we keep it to the morning?”
“You sure?” He mutters with a chuckle. You’ve done this before. kento knows you hate morning showers, but you also hate the feeling of water on your body after sex. And every time you have a morning shower, you end up wishing you had it the night before. “Not gonna change your mind in the morning?”
“Promise,” you lie, knowing full well you are going to regret making this choice. “‘M too tired to move.”
“Okay,” the blonde man nods. He allows you to make this choice. After all, he’d hate to leave your arms, too.
“Kento..” you call after a few moments of peaceful silence. He hums attentively, sensing a question coming his way. “Can you say it?”
“Say what?” He looks down at you. Your head moves, craning your neck so your eyes can meet his own. He stares at you with love, love you thought he was incapable of feeling a few years back. 
The way you look at him is enough answer. He knows what you mean, and it’s almost amusing. It’s adorable how you seek his affection so… bluntly.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers, his tone low and sensual. “You already know that.”
Using your elbows for support, you help yourself to lean up to him, pecking his lips softly. “I love you too, Kento. So, very much.”
“I know,” He smiles, eyes fluttering between your eyes and your lips. 
SUGURU GETO .ᐟ
“Suguuuuu’” you whine when your black-haired lover moves out of your grasp, about to stand up. “Come backkkk”
Suguru chuckles—it’s a hoarse sound, yet the amusement in it is unmistakable. He’s still somewhat out of breath. He doesn’t comply, though. “What’s wrong? Can’t let go of me for a whole minute?”
“You’re mean,” you huff, sitting up straight. The blanket that covered you slips down and lands over your hip. Suguru’s eyes trail down against his well. He can’t help it, you look so divine, the dim light illuminating your body in all the right ways. 
“I’m mean for wanting to get dressed?” He raises a brow, scanning the room for the discarded pants. Your teeth tug at your lower lip at his physique. You’re not sure how you landed a shot with this gorgeous man, but you’re more than grateful. You avert your gaze, though, not hoping to jinx your luck. “Crybaby.”
A string of complaints leaves your lips, none audible enough for him to make out. You turn your back to him, pulling the covers up your body. Suguru rolls his eyes as he pulls his pants back on.
“You’re so sensitive,” The mattress dips under his weight, the blanket moving over your bare skin when he gets under it.
Warm digits trace your waist, careful as if you would break under any form of pressure. Goosebumps ripple across your skin, spreading like wildfire at the sensation of his warm breath near your ear. 
He presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, bringing you closer to him by the waist. His fingers rub your belly lovingly. “So soft… so warm.”
Your heart throbs at his whispered words, feeling your thighs tighten slightly. He has such a way with words. You’re well past spent, but he still finds a way to turn you on again. You hum under him, leaning into his warmth.
“Stop teasing, Sugu’, you–” You begin, turning your face to meet him. The look in his eyes makes you stop. His face is living proof there’s a god—there’s not a hint of doubt in you that his face was sculpted by the hands of an angel. 
“Hmm? What were you saying?” He smirks, not moving an inch.
You shake your head. “Nothing,” You snap out of it, looking away. 
“Uh-huh?” A lopsided smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. “Is that really?”
“Yeah,” You insist, turning around in his arms. “Just kiss me already.”
“With pleasure, pretty,” his voice is a tune you never bore of. He leans down towards your face, eyes set on your slightly parted lips. Warmth closes upon your mouth. 
His every move is passionate, prudence long gone. His fingers roam your skin freely, tracing a map he’s long since memorized. His tongue leaps at your mouth, dancing with your muscle. The room is empty but for the lewd sounds of mouths clasping against each other and your low hums.
“S’soft f’me,” he pulls away, remaining close. A string of saliva connects your mouths. You’re a sight to see, all flushed up and breathless while he seems unfazed. “I love you, doll. Y’know that?”
You take a moment to gather yourself before responding with a soft, “’love you too, Sugu’.”
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wood-white-writer · 7 months
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“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [1/…]
- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader
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“So, I don’t blame you if you want to bury me in your memories,”
— Mitski, "Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart"
Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.
Warnings: Fem!Reader, Canon Typical Violence, Slight Canon Divergence, Buggy is an asshole, The reader used to go by "Cross-Hairs" in the past.
A/N: I’m basing this primarily on the LA! version of “One Piece”, as I’ve just recently begun to watch the Anime.
Luffy, for his unyielding devotion towards his dreams of becoming the King of Pirates, evidently lacks the sense of foresight required of a pirate to successfully navigate the seven seas. Then again, it's nothing new.
You’ve always known. The kid's been a hazard to society even in his youth; no filter between his brain and his mouth despite the ungodly amount of food he pushes between his jaws. You used to watch him make his proclamations in front of Shanks' merry band with little more than vaguely piqued interest, indifferent to the youthful albeit naive optimism he exhibited.
Shanks, meanwhile, always used to find his demeanor endearing - “He’s a good kid. Let him dream,”
And so you let him. You watched him dream for the next ten years, making sure that his dreams didn't catch the wrong kind of attention until he was old enough to hold his own weight.
However, back then, Luffy's actions seldom warranted any real consequences. Save for the incident with the Bandit and the Sea King, he's rarely been in any real danger prior to his debut as a pirate.
An unruly child spouting declarations of desiring to become the next “King of Pirates” hardly would’ve caused more of a ripple effect than to make other people shake their heads and laugh. And if it did, you were there to make sure it didn’t.
Now, not only has his actions earned you the ire of the Marines by stealing the Map of the Grand Line, but it has also garnered the attention of other opponents. Far more dangerous ones than the likes of Alvida or even that Axe-Hand Moron.
It was only a matter of time.
So when you find yourself waking up in a wooden cage with the rest of your reluctant crew mates, accompanied by a head-throbbing headache at that, your first instinct is to heave an exasperated sigh.
"Goddamn it."
"Oh, you're up." It's Luffy. He looks unharmed, albeit disoriented, not too unlike yourself. "How're you feeling?"
"Like I just snorted a bottle of rum through my nostrils." You get up into a crouching position, eying your surroundings, which doesn't leave much up for inspection considering your cage consists of broad wide planks. "What the fuck happened?"
The last thing you recall before being knocked out was a Jolly Roger in the distance, too far away for you to make out properly. So, not Marines, but pirates.
You can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing.
"Think we wouldn't have told you if we knew?" The swordsman - Zoro - replies with a deadpan look of boredom on his face as he attempts to peek through the cracks in your confinement. You have half a mind to tell him where to shove it but opt for a more quiet approach.
It's during moments like these when you realize you actually miss that scrawny pink-haired kid with the glasses - Koby. He never spoke to you like this. Granted, he was probably intimidated by the way you were always hovering behind Luffy like a silent guardian, but he didn't provide unnecessary comments like Bounty Hunter over there does.
Small blessings and all that. Very small.
You provide a solid kick to the plank on Zoro's right side without warning, catching him off-guard and earning you a short-lived glare. The planks loosen considerably, probably not meant to contain you for long.
Meanwhile, you listen half-heartedly to Luffy and Nami as they discuss the potential identities of your captors.
"They're not marines," Luffy assures her. "Before I got knocked out, I saw a Jolly Roger. We've been captured by pirates."
You glance at him from over your shoulder. "What'd it look like?"
"I don't know, it looked ... like ..." he pauses in thought. "A skull with crossbones, and a red ... dot? It almost looked like a nose, if bones could have noses, but they don't."
The blood in your veins freezes up, as does the rest of your body until their voices blur into nothing.
You've been keeping occasional track of him in the years that's passed since you parted ways, and when he amounted to a considerable bounty on his head, his signature Jolly Roger was hard not to miss on his wanted posters.
-------
"I didn't know there were so many pirates."
You tilt your head at the wall decorated with various wanted posters of different pirates, some more torn and discoloured than others, some more dead than others. You can't find your own amongst them in Shells Town, but then again, it has been some time since last you were on the Marines' radar. More likely than not, your poster is hidden somewhere underneath the several layers of—
"Hey, there's yours!" Luffy damn-near exclaims in wonder and points at— Oh yeah, there it is, right above Foxy's poster, a little yellow around the edges but still holding strong.
WANTED Dead or Alive "Cross-Hairs" 25,000,000
"Oh, wow, a 25-million bounty. That's a lot of berries."
The image is well over a decade old, taken back in your early twenties, and you were much more easy to identify back then. You were sharper in some angles, softer in others, compared to the present.
You look different now. Less robust, a little older, but no less dangerous in the grand scheme of things. Your sharp eyes remain the same, a trait Gol D. used to remark upon with a mischievous glimmer in his own eyes.
"You have eyes sharp enough to cut through steele," he'd say and ruffle your hair. A sense of loss perforating your being at the memory.
Despite being in your thirties, age tends to alter the appearance of most people, and you consider that a pretty good advantage right about now as you're standing surrounded by an army of Marine officers. Given the fact that you've spent the last couple of years away from the sea without a trace or clue, the World Government probably assumes you've died or gone into hiding.
Be that as it may, they didn't even bother to decrease the bounty since last time. How odd.
While Luffy spends a few moments admiring your old picture like a child that just learned their relative is some kind of famous celebrity, Koby is less than enthralled by this revelation.
"T-That's one of the highest bounties in the East-Blue." He is hesitant to look up at you. "What did ... What did you do to earn it?"
"A little here, a little there. Kicked a few asses, stole a bit of treasure along the way. Nothing too bad." You admit with a half-assed shrug as you continue to inspect the various posters.
For the boy's peace of mind, you won't go into the less ... child-friendly details regarding your reputation. About the way you used to fight to the blood with most of your opponents, Marines and pirates in equal measure. How you'd stand victorious atop a pile of broken limbs and pleading sounds from the defeated crowd.
"Yeah, yeah ..." Koby agrees with a feeble nod. "There are way worse pirates on the Grand Line."
Your gaze happens upon a particular wanted poster, and your demeanor stiffens. Not enough to notice from an ordinary point of view, but it does nonetheless.
His sharp cerulean eyes and bright red nose seem to mock you from his picture, and a heavy feeling settles in your heart. A feeling of hurt and betrayal you've long since thought abandoned in the corners of your heart. Not even the loss of your old captain could hope to compare to it
You snap back to Luffy, your voice a little strained as you speak though you desperately try to cover it up. "Are we done here, Luffy?"
------
It's your fucking luck it had to be him of all people to come after Luffy first.
Why him?
Fuuuuuu—
"We don't need to fight." Luffy's voice snaps you back to the present. "I can talk to them, pirate to pirate."
"Not with this one," you whisper more to yourself than anyone else. The only one who seems to catch onto this is Zoro, but the moment he opens his mouth to ask, Nami beats him to it.
A discussion regarding the duality of piracy quickly causes you to lose all interest in the following sequence.
You don't trust either the thief or the bounty hunter as far as you can throw them, and the feeling is mutual in both parts. Sure, they proved useful in getting rid of the Axe-Hand, and have had thus far been tolerable enough for you not to throw them overboard.
Still, Zoro recognized you on the spot where the Marines failed to, and though Nami doesn't, your status as a pirate is enough reason for her to distrust you.
As mentioned, you don't trust them, but Luffy does, and his lead is the only one you'll follow. This is his voyage, and you’re not here to keep him from making mistakes unless you consider them particularly vital. If this bites him in the end, then you'll be there to keep him afloat.
After all, you made a promise to your old red-haired friend.
"Look after the lad for me, will you? Help him achieve his dream."
With no patience left to wait to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible, you prepare to kick through the planks. Just then, the top piece of your confinements unfold, and what you're greeted with is the pinpoint definiton of a fever dream on acid.
Tightrope walkers swinging in the air, acrobatics performing acts of impressive feats, someone fire-breathing, and-- was that a guy juggling on a unicycle passing you just now?
A circus troupe. You've been captured by a fucking circus troupe.
"Oh, what the actual fuck?" Is all you can manage to mutter, a sentiment Zoro surprisingly agrees with if the nod he adds serves as any indication.
The troupe has an audience, you come to observe in the distance. They're clapping and cheering on cue with the sign being held in the air, yet they look ... wrong. Forced. Puppets with strings embedded in their limbs, so to speak.
You narrow your eyes in distaste at the view. The hell has he been up to as of late?
In the midst of the enforced round of applause, a voice gradually makes itself more and more prominent through the masses. Deeper and huskier since last you heard it, but yet painfully known to your ears.
"No, no, no, NO! Stop clapping!"
And then he appears. The ringleader himself, exasperated as he throws his arms out to each side and effectively silencing the crowd.
"No, stop! This is all wrong!"
You momentarily forget to breathe as you watch him come into view from behind the audience. He's taller than the last you saw him, that's for damn certain. Must've hit a second growth spurt in your absence because, while you were relatively on equal foot in your youth, he now seems to have grown a head or so taller than yourself.
And like yourself, he's changed, and not inherently for the better. It's a relative statement considering that the life of a pirate is oftentimes a hard one, but it's a fact nonetheless. The years have not been any kinder to him than they've been for yourself. He still has the same hair, the same general appearance, but he's changed.
Out of the three of you, Shanks seems to have had it the easiest in recent years, appearance-wise. He never lost his smile or affinity for the brighter things in life, even when he had his damn arm chewed off.
Meanwhile, you lost your dreams, and he seems to have lost everything you recognized about him in your youth. His smile, his laughter, and even his stance had been replaced by some replica that fails to hold a candle to the original one.
This is a show master, not your friend. Then again, you haven't been friends for a long time now.
Still, changed as he may be from an outward point of view, Buggy's eyes have not. They're clear like the seas, just as they were long ago. (And his nose, of course. How could you forget?).
You can't tell if that's a relief yet.
You're not a fearful person by nature, having lost the distinct ability years ago. Now, however, you feel the tremors vibrating through your ribcage at the sight of him. That's why you decide to turn your face slightly to the side for now, hoping to prolong the inevitable.
Fortunately, your presence evades Buggy's notice for just a while longer as he berates his crew. "The spotlight was late! You completely missed my entrance!"
The sound of said spotlight changing its focus can be heard.
"And where, oh where, was the dancing lion?"
Good! While he's occupied, maybe you can find the right moment to grab Luffy and get the hell--
"Hey! I know you! I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town!"
... You want to dig a hole in the sand and bury yourself right about now.
"You're the clown guy! Uhm ... Binky, right?"
Buggy, you scream inside as you suppress the urge to yank Luffy by the shoulders and shake him until all of his limbs drop down on the ground. Fuck Shanks and fuck the promise. He's Buggy the fucking Clown, and you did not have to go out of your way to pinpoint that fact!
In your internal state of dismay, you settle with trying to locate potential escape routes. Maybe a hole in the walls of the tent, or an absent-minded guard by the entrance. You're stronger than most, with years of experience behind you, but you're not capable of fighting your way through a crowd with three tagalongs so seamlessly.
"Buggy," the man of the hour states as he approaches, still having failed to notice you. "Buggy the Clown."
No one says anything, which he takes as a sign to continue on with - what you personally regard - as a moronic long line of titles.
"Buggy, the Flashy Fool." Still nothing. He raises his arms, like a lost puppy begging for scraps of recognition. "Buggy, the Genius Jester."
Seriously, what's with him and all the names? He’s always been … overdramatic, but this cuts the cake even for him.
"Wow," Luffy seems genuinely impressed, a stark contrast to his companions, who would rather be anywhere than here. "You have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are."
A range of gasps echo from the unwilling audience, and you finally snap your head to the front in alarm. Fuck, he couldn't have used a better word than that. Granted, Luffy didn't mean it in that context, or even that word, but it doesn't matter.
Another thing that hasn't changed about Buggy... And that very same thing might as well be what snaps him out of his theatric act.
You thought Buggy finally would've noticed you by now, seeing it as you're finally willing to face him, but his eyes remain eerily glued to the kid.
"What did you just say?" Buggy asks, calmly.
Way too calmly for your liking.
Oh, no.
Luffy blinks in confusion. "Just that everyone knows who you are?"
You notice the clown lunging before Luffy does.
In the span of a second, you plant yourself between them, the only barrier between him and the clown's rage. You don't move an inch even as Buggy closes in with his gloved hand outstretched towards the boy, having not yet registered your sudden appearance until his fingers are inches from your face.
Your eyes finally lock, the blue in his eyes more prominent now than ever. Almost two decades since the last time you saw each other, and Buggy ceases his attempted assault as though time itself freezes.
At first, there is nothing in his eyes but surprise. Anger. Maybe even a trace of admiration towards the one who dared stand against him. Hot and burning beneath his irises, like glowing embers left behind in a dying pyre.
Finally, there is recognition, and the fire reignites warmer and scorching more than ever before.
He doesn't say anything at first, and neither do you, but the glare in your eyes conveys the message loudly enough that even the performers and troupe members alike know not to interfere.
"Leave him be."
You think of what to say, what you can say, after years of being silent. A simple “Hi” will not suffice, and considering the way of which you parted, there is little room for confessions.
Then, Buggy begins to laugh.
It starts out as a whisper of a chuckle, then gradually develops until he's full-out holding his stomach in wheezes, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and smudging his make-up.
He points his arm up as he tries to contain himself, and the guy holding the APPLAUSE-sign picks up on the subliminal message. Everyone in the place begins to laugh, both the captives and the captors, so loudly this time that it makes you feel small in a way you haven’t felt since you were a child.
You glance cautiously around yourself, sharing brief looks with your companions before the noises abruptly stop, having most likely been forced to do so.
When you look back at Buggy again, he's smiling wider than ever, but his eyes hold no genuine humor. No, there's an unidentifiable emotion swirling in the depths of his blue eyes that you fail to decipher before he speaks.
"Well, well, well! Isn't this an unexpected surprise?" He raises his arm to gesture to you, as if you're an exotic exhibition behind a display case for everyone to behold. The spotlight is now aimed at you, momentarily blinding your vision.
"Ladies and gentlemen! It is my honor to present to you, the one and only, the myth, the legendary 'Cross-Hairs'! The Beast of the East!"
Applause rings again in the air as Buggy continues.
"She was famous throughout all of East Blue for her many endeavors, with a bounty greater than even yours flashy truly." Admitting that fact looks like it physically hurt him, but he prevails. "And then, almost ten years ago, after her biggest heist yet, she just POOFS!" He snaps his fingers and lets them slowly decline for dramatic effect. "Vanishes out of the blue. Leaving the seas for an unforeseen amount of time."
It would seem like you were keeping track of each other all along.
The next words Buggy utters are so hushed that only you hear them, and his smile is gone.
"Then again, you do have a track-record of leaving things behind, haven’t you?"
Oh, the fucking nerve of this guy. You take a step forward, clenching and unclenching you jaw so much your teeth feel on the bring of cracking. How dare he? How fucking dare he?
You’re about to shout back at him, argue, throwing every caution to the wind just to correct him and scream:
("You're the one who left me, remember?")
Before you can, something taps your right shoulder. Thinking it's Luffy, you turn around, and the last thing you recall before it all fades to black is an air of red dust clouding your vision.
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cheeseceli · 1 month
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When you have plushies
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Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!reader (individually)
Genre: fluff, reactions
Request: so if skz had a partner who sleeps / collects plushies??? maybe also add a little where the reader is a tad bit embarrassed of it?
Warnings: none
A/n: if you saw this when I posted it for the first time no you didn't!
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Bang Chan
Y'KNOW THAT LAUGH OF HIS
The one that's so adorable and it looks like a giggle while his eyes are like crescent moons
THAT ONE
It's the one he gives you while he tries to understand that somehow he is dating the most adorable human being in the whole world
He literally has no problem if you want to sleep with them, will reassure you when it comes to that
"Do you think I can take one of your plushies with me for the tour? It'd make me feel closer to you"
Lee Know
Of course he will tease you
That's like one of the things that are included in his boyfriend package: relentless teasing
He will stop immediately if he sees that you aren't feeling it though
Will take a picture of you cuddling your favourite teddy bear and set it as his phone's wallpaper
AND will buy you some plushies and put them in his dorm
So you can feel more comfortable even when you're away from your own collection
Will never admit but he cuddles with it when he misses you
"Dori was sleeping with the plushie I bought for you. I'm going to send you a pic"
Changbin
Now that he knows, there is nothing stopping him from buying you thousands of plushies
Your collection will double in less than a month if you let him (please let him)
Might even buy some matching ones so you guys can share something in common
But he'll feel a little betrayed if you don't cuddle him to sleep and instead hug the teddy bear
"Why are you cuddling a plushie when you have me right here?? Like, c'mon now!!"
Hyunjin
You know those things where you can make a teddy bear from scratch and then gift it to someone?
He would do that for you😭
Would probably gift you a personalised plushie in your first valentine's
But overall he finds it adorable
Laughs endearingly every time he sees you sleeping while cuddling one
But will not lose the opportunity to replace the plushie and hug you throughout the night
"Would you rather have a dog or a bear as a plushie? No specific reason"
Han
Wants to give names to some of them lmao
And finds you 200% cuter because of it
Like, he knew you were adorable but you always surpass his expectations somehow
And if you get embarrassed abou it he finds you even cuter
But will make sure you don't have a reason to be embarrassed
He will throw himself in the pile of plushies, feeling like he's in heaven and making sure you knows he likes this side of you as well
"This one looks just like you! Oh my God, it's literally you"
Felix
HE LOVES IT
And he would be so casual about it as well??
Like, you'd be kinda scared of his reaction but then he's just the kindest about this
Wants to know about their names and stories you might have about them
The kind of guy who'd stitch one of them if they need to get repaired (I love him btw)
Tries to win plushies for you in those claw machines
"Which one do you want? I'll win it for you"
Seungmin
Is kinda intimidated at first lmao
Like I can see him just standing still while an army of plushies stare at his soul 😭
After the initial shock though I think he'd find it cute
Especially if there is a plushie who kinda looks like him/his skzoo
If that's the case he'll just tease you (while finding it so endearing)
"You should name this one 'Minnie'"
"I'm not naming every single one of my plushies after you"
"Why not?"
I.N
I think he wouldn't react at first, but mostly because he doesn't know what to do
Will you get sad if he teases you? Will you get embarrassed if he says it's cute?
He ends up not saying anything lol
Acts like he sees a huge collection of plushies every day
Might give you some plushies as gifts after finding out
"I just bought a very cute teddy bear in Japan. I'm giving it to you once I come back home."
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Dividers by @cafekitsune
Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!
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romaritimeharbor · 16 days
Text
FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.
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— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.
— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).
— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶
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kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.
she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.
(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)
KAFKA
My coat got stained again :(
Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?
[ 1:22 PM ]
KAFKA
I saw a new movie today.
It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.
Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?
Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...
That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.
Sleep well, darling.
[ 11:34 PM ]
she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.
and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.
she does chide them, however.
"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."
if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.
she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.
however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.
they know kafka would not use it to harm them.
kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.
and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.
blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.
some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.
this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.
he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.
the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.
one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.
out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.
(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)
blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.
should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"
(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)
unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.
it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.
something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.
death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.
silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.
she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.
however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!
she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.
what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????
unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.
...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].
she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.
(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)
silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.
overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3
please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!
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iwasthewind · 28 days
Text
Venti and Diona's interaction in the alchemy event is so special to me... because Diona is someone who really hasn't had any reliable parental figures in her life at all. Her father is a drunkard who barely has any time for her. She got her vision because she walked into the pouring rain as a child, all alone, terrified, to look for her drunk father in a forest full of animals and monsters and bring him home. Her father takes better care of Razor than her. She was so lonely she talked to a spring in the hopes that the rumours were true and there really was a fairy inside, listening. And then the voices that used to answer stopped, too. Leaving her with nothing but a curse- any drink she mixed would be divine. She's only twelve at most and she works in a bar. Her employer exploits her skills for profit. There's advertisements around Mondstadt advertising Diona's drinks specifically. Everyone loves them. Diona hates them. Everyone tells her how lovely her drinks are. Diona herself, despite despising alcohol, is proud of her skills. That's so fucked up. That's all so fucked up.
There's so many jokes about "haha child wants to destroy the wine industry but works in a bar" and while I can see why people find it funny they're honestly...so tasteless. Diona is a child who villainizes alcohol because she can't bear the thought of her father being at fault for his actions because she loves him so much. That he could drink less and he could spend more time with her and he could help her with her emotions but never does. That he could spend time with her and immerse himself in her interests but he never does. That he's willing to do all this for other people instead, but not her. That he chooses to do these things for other people, but he almost never chooses to do them for her.
But Venti does. Venti chooses to do all these things with Diona. He calls all residents of Mond his children and that's Diona too. He takes the time to search Dragonspine for an ingredient she might like, he chats with her and accompanies her to the location of the alchemy event, he presumably spends hours with her as she searches for ingredients and mixes her drink, keeping her company and making sure she's safe.
He doesn't have to do this. He doesn't have to patiently endear himself to her because he knows she hates people who drink, he doesn't have to bother going all the way to Dragonspine to find her something unique because he knows she's proud of her creations, he doesn't have to spend hours in the company of a lonely child who he has nothing in common with-but he does.
So many people would think he's doing it for the drink, but they all lack reading comprehension skills because I said so. Diona wants to create a drink which keeps people sober. Venti isn't going to get drunk and he's not doing it for the drink. It isn't pity either, it's affection- he loves his child and he wants to spend time with her and make sure she's safe. That's all. They're so special to me <3
Oh and another thing that I forgot to add- the Spring Fairy Diona talked to, Callirhoe, only found the spring in Springvale thanks to "a gentle breeze guiding her." The person who listened to the cries and rants of a lonely child was also coincidentally someone guided there by Venti. Still girlie why that specific blessing 😔
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fairestwriting · 2 months
Note
Hello there! Love your writing! How about my sweet Savanaclaw boys finding out that their crush (or S/O) sleeps cuddling a plushie of their respective animals (like a wolf for Jack). Thanks! I love Jack so much :)
me while jumping at the opportunity of writing the man: i hate leona
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Leona Kingscholar
He is canonically a very smart and perceptive guy. But somewhere in my heart I just know he wouldn't fully make the connection for a while. Just trust me on that one.
Kind of pokes fun at your "cat" plushie. What's with that thing, Herbivore? Aren't you a little too old for stuffed animals? Though he steps back if it makes you genuinely upset, which isn't what he's going for, he's just being an ass as a joke again. A part of him thinks it's really endearing, even before it really clicks for him.
He kind of feels vaguely jealous of the plushie. If you bring it while you two are sleeping together he'll pull the what do you need this thing for, I'm right here kind of shtick.
Confused on why you sleep with a plushie in the first place, more confused about why this stuffed cat looks so weird... oh, wait.
He's stupidly proud when it actually clicks. Of course he won't tell you it went over his head for the longest time, but all of a sudden, he's all smug whenever he sees you with the plushie, saying you could've just called if you missed him so much.!
Ruggie Bucchi
Takes a hot second to make the connection, but a lot less than Leona. The delay is mostly because he's never expected to see a hyena plushie of all things.
Actually loves it because it reminds him of the kids back home a little. He asks where you bought it, how much it was, tells you a little story about a kid he knew who wanted one just like that.
He won't explicitly ask to hold it but you should offer it, he loves your little buddy, he's already said you should come to him if you ever need to get a tear patched up. Doesn't even have it in him to make a joke about it being childish, at most tells you he'll keep it a secret if you look embarrassed.
When he does notice though, while poking at the plushie's little ears absentmindedly, he's the one who gets flustered. Oh no, that's really cute kind of realization.
He wants to sound cool when he says that, you know, if you want to sleep with him, you can just invite him over, but he does fail pretty hard. He can't help it, though, it's just way too endearing to him.
...Besides, he's already offered to co-parent the toy. If it doesn't have a name, it's just a matter of time before Ruggie asks and "jokingly" comes up with suggestions.
Jack Howl
Only one who thinks it might have to do something with him... but he's kind of too flustered to say anything about it for a good while.
He bashfully reassures you there's nothing wrong with keeping plushies around even if you're not a kid, maybe letting it slip that he thinks the little wolf is pretty cute... then pretending he didn't say anything.
Jack overthinks it a bit. Wolf plushies aren't that uncommon, right? You probably had it before you met him. He's too shy to ask if you had it before you met him.
He'll settle on... asking about the plushie itself. It might not have anything to do with him, but he knows pretty quickly that he wants it to. If you're not dating yet, he'll use the almighty excuse of asking about it because he needs to get his little siblings a gift.
Either way, though, the next excuse he gets, whether it's Christmas or your birthday or whatever, you find yourself with a very neatly wrapped box in your hands, and Jack nearly hiding behind it. Just saw it in a shop near home and thought you might like it, he says.
Whether your previous plushie was based on the exact same type of white wolf he is doesn't matter. If it is, it's getting a twin. You bet he scoured the shops to find it, blessing his luck on wolves being animals plenty of people love. He has a small, shy smile on his face when you take it.
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stevebabey · 2 months
Note
uhm shyly comes into your inbox to give a steve idea :’)
finding him so so so pretty in that stupid dark blue polo, not being able to really look at him properly. it’s tight against his chest and stomach which makes him look delicious, wanting to be devoured really. he’s simply so pretty. worst thing is: he fucking knows it. so he’s cocky about it and teasing, it’s never relenting. he loves it and honestly so do you.
(feel free to ignore!)
trying to get my steve groove back on!!! thank u for sending something nonnie!! a lil bit of shy!reader <3 just a blurb too
Steve doesn’t know it’s a favourite of yours.
One of his polos fits his chest pretty perfectly if anyone asks your opinion. It’s that nice navy colour that looks good against his tan skin, with a bold stripe of white through the middle. A little plain but classic.
It hugs his biceps snugly and stretches ever so slightly over his chest. At the right angle, you can see the definition of his pecs and it’s awfully good at reminding you of what they look like with no shirt on at all.
The thought makes you fluster a bit.
He’s got plenty of polos but this one— this is your favourite. And he’s wearing it tonight, on Valentine’s day, and now you’re not quite sure you’ve been as slick with your wandering eyes as you hoped.
Across the booth, Steve smiles at you, his lashes kissing in the corner. He reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck and your eyes zero in on the bulge of his bicep instantly.
Steve’s smiles melts into a grin, a tad wicked.
Yeah, okay, maybe he does know it’s your favourite.
You fluster again. Something nudges at your foot under the table, right as Steve says, “What?”
He’s teasing. He definitely knows what.
“Stop,” you murmur, on the side of embarrassed. “You know what.”
Steve smiles again and drops his arm, thankfully, only to fold them and lean forward on the table. It does wonders for his arms, especially in that shirt. Damn that shirt. Damn him. He’s evil.
“Do I know what?” He pretends to muse thoughtfully.
He tilts his pretty head to the side just an inch. His eyes stay locked on you, drinking up every second your flustered reaction. You’re beautiful, even more so when you get all embarrassed about liking him.
“Steve.”
“What?”
“I will not be responsible for any further inflation of your ego, thank you very much.” You mumble it as you take a sip of your soda, eyes on the table. Why is it so terrible to have him know you were leering at him?
Steve laughs loudly. He finally slides his arms back and off the table, giving you a temporary relief.
“You’re the only one who can inflate my ego, actually.” Steve counters, his brows raising. He steals a fry off your plate and chews it slowly.
You eye him over your cup, skeptical.
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” He shrugs, swallowing his food. He takes a sip of his own milkshake, oh-so casual when he says, “Your opinion is the only one that really matters to me anyways.”
He grins across the table at you, a more mischievous shine in his eyes.
“Why do you think I picked this shirt?”
You’re equal parts mortified and enthralled at what he’s said. In your surprise, you accidentally inhale a bit of your soda and it burns as it goes down the wrong way— you cough awkwardly to clear it. Okay, less equal, more mortified now.
It’s your turn to ask. “What?”
Steve nudges your foot under the table again, teasing and flirting all in one. His pink lips curve into that grin that makes your heart flip flop— and there’s even a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. As though he’s also endeared but embarrassed by your attention.
“It’s your favourite.”
“It’s—” You splutter and for some reason, decide to lie. “No, it’s not!”
“Yes, it is!”
“No, it’s—” You pivot mid-sentence. “Who told you?”
Steve laughs again, that big loud belly-laugh where his cheeks get all chipmunk-y cos he’s grinning so hard. When he stops laughing enough to talk, he’s reaching across the table. You’re not quick enough to pretend to avoid his hand as he snags it with his own.
“Baby,” he says. “Nobody had to tell me. I could just tell.”
Somehow when he says it like that, when he calls you baby in a voice all sticky with fondness, it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing at all.
You nudge him back under the table and sip your sofa again to try think of something to say. He knows what you look like when you love something. How terrifying. How intimate.
Another sip of soda. Steve rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, content to gaze you. His view is sweet enough he must have cartoon hearts circling above his head.
You can’t think of anything to say in the end, so you just squeeze his hand and nudge his foot again — and trust that he’ll just be able to tell what you mean.
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