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coca-cola-fiend · 1 year ago

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How I think the straw hats sleep when they have company (romantic or platonic)

Luffy

Wraps himself around you

You are NOT moving for a while

Snores, unless you prop him up right

Likes to cuddle, will whine if you say no (unless you look like super uncomfortable, emotionally aware king love that)

Mans has no thoughts of personal space. He wants to be close ALL THE TIMe

Will talk your ear off as he’s wrapped around you. Yes both arms and legs if it’s comfortable.

Tried to listen to you too, but will probs fall asleep. He doesn’t mean to be rude, bro is just tired and happy your with him.

Warm, but wiggles a lot.

After Marineford, he’s especially clingy. Has nightmares about it and only sleeps well if he knows his crew is safe and close by.

Please comfort him and tell him that the crew is safe, that he is safe.

Will drag you off for a nap if he’s tired. Or just falls asleep on top of you.

Will wake you up in the middle of the night to spout off random shit. Then fall back asleep. Or he’s going to try and grab a snack. Sanji is not pleased when the fridge is dented from this attempt.

Please make a deal with him to shower more. Your nose will think you.

Zoro

Dude also needs a shower

Likes to work out and then have a nap

Doesn’t like to admit it but prefers when your around for both of these activities

Enjoys flexing while training and then relaxing with a nap with one of his favorite people on the ship

If he stinks, MAKE HIM BATHE. Bro is STINKY and needs to scrub more. After he washes then it’s nap time. That’s the deal.

Nami thanks you for this

It started with just napping around you, then slowly leaning onto you.

Neither of you make a big deal out of it, more for his sake then yours. He’s embarrassed to admit he’s soft for your time together.

Not a huge talker, but is very good a listening.

Gives advice if he thinks you want it, but will sit and listen if you need to get stuff off your chest.

Is a little jealous you can do so with ease (in his mind). He’s too caught up being strong for the crew that he forgets that he’s allowed to just be Zoro, not Pirate Hunter or King of Hell Zoro.

Snores a little, but not super loud. Place his head on your shoulder or lap and he’s OUT. May even curl an arm or leg around you if he feels like it.

Nami

Not used to co-sleeping

Sleeps with a weapon close by due to her past with Arlong. This doesn’t change, only the location of the weapon does.

Particular about her sleep. Has a routine and everything.

Expects you to hold yourself to a certain standard if your sleeping in the same room as her (you’ll have to work up to cuddling).

Will gift you nice pjs, soaps, blankets, things like that.

Gets hot easily, but hates being too cold.

Will fall asleep at her nap desk. Please pick her up and tuck her into bed.

That’s how it starts probably. She holds onto you in her sleep and mumbles something you can’t make out. You wait and get a quiet “stay…don’t go”. You stay.

This happens a few more times before your invited into her bed. You slept on the floor before to avoid making her uncomfortable.

Refuses to admit that she likes being the little spoon, but she has the best sleep when she feels safe and protected by someone she trusts deeply.

Likes to nap in the sun under her trees with you. The warmth and the smell of the fruit is relaxing.

Doesn’t ask you to nap, just expects you to agree. Drags you to nap when she’s had a bad day.

Please just hold her for a bit and listen to her rant about stuff. She appreciates it more then you’ll ever know.

Usopp

Tries to act chill when you fall asleep on him for the first time.

Is smiling while trying to act annoyed like it’s an inconvenience (he feels so happy do NOT believe him)

Another one to fall asleep while creating. If you can’t pull him away wrap a blanket around him and place a pillow under his head.

Usopp is a lonely guy, considering he didn’t really have any friends before the straw hats (not including the Usopp pirates and Kaya).

If feels nice to be chosen

Likes to tell you stories (real and make believe) as your winding down to sleep.

Lights up when you smile or laugh because of him.

Makes it his goal to make you smile at least once before the end of the day. Even if it’s just an eye smile, he knows he’s made you happy, and that makes him happy.

LOVES late night talks. Doesn’t matter what it’s about. He’s happy to spend time with you.

Does his best not to wake you up in the morning if your not ready to wake up. Will save you some food (from Luffy) if your not awake yet.

Will be thinking of stories all day to tell you. Of course he tells the rest of the crew, mainly Chopper and Luffy, as well. But your late night talks hold a special place in his heart and day.

Is forever grateful you chose him as your best friend.

Sanji

Another one who has a hard time accepting affection (Zoro, and Robin too).

Happens after he has a nightmare about his family (this feels familiar ha).

You catch him up super late and ask him what’s wrong.

He doesn’t tell you right away (especially if it’s before Whole Cake) and gives a vague explanation of having a hard time sleeping.

You offer to help, and for some reason (sleep deprivation due to stress) he agrees.

You bring him back to bed and hold him. He’s not used to being held and take a bit to relax and get comfortable. The last time someone held him like this was either Zeff or his mom. Probably his mom.

This repeats for about a week before he starts seeking you out. He’s embarrassed about it at first but can’t deny he does sleep better with you around.

At some point, you start waking up with him and keeping him company while he makes breakfast. Whether you help him or not depends on what he’s making.

You keep him entertained while he cooks, and he makes you a little extra as a thank you.

Of course he’ll deny this if you bring it up, so if you want extra, just enjoy it.

He may tell you more about his dreams as time goes on, but nothing huge until you actually meet his family. Then he doesn’t even need to tell you, you just know when he’s having a hard time and step up the comfort.

He’s grateful to have such a wonderful crew to call his own.

I’ll probably do a part 2 with the rest of the straw hats later, but I’m tired and want to post this already. The straw hats deserve some comfort with all that trauma.

#one piece #one piece luffy #one piece zoro #one piece nami #one piece usopp #one piece sanji #op #luffy x reader #roronoa zoro #pirate hunter zoro #zoro x reader #op nami #nami x reader #usopp x reader #sanji x reader #platonic x reader #gn reader #hcs #op hcs

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kechiwrites · 1 year ago

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property lines

dark!steve rogers x neighbour!reader

kinktober countdown: day two (facefucking).

synopsis: your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject.

wc: 2.2k

cw: dark content, non con, oral (male receiving), femme language + afab!reader, pet names, internal victim blaming, pet names (sweetheart), a touch of misogyny

author’s note: day 2 brings us more dark!steve, i fear i may be incapable of writing him sincerely. he’s just a little too perfect. I like to take off a bit of the shine. thank you @katsukikitten u r my muse.

Your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject. Mostly because you can’t be sure if he’s doing it on purpose or if he’s just overly friendly. Maybe it’s the signals you give off, bringing a plate of thick, sweet, cheesecake brownies over to the recently sold house next door, hoping to make a new connection. Suburbia can be isolating, and with all of your friends shaking ass in the city, you need to branch out. It really isn’t the kind of home you figured a single man like Steven Grant Rogers would buy, but then again, you lived in your suburban palace alone, willed to you by your late grandmother and only in need of a few renovations.

He’d been so bright, when you first met him, with a perfect white smile and twinkling blue eyes. He’d been happy to accept the desserts, even happier to return the plate a day later, extolling the praise he and his poker buddies lauded on you over the taste. You’d shrugged it off, “The least I could do for a neighbour. I’m just glad you all liked them.”

Secretly though, the compliments had thrilled you, especially once you’d gotten a glimpse at the aforementioned “poker buddies”, the whole lot of them, handsome, built, big. All too happy to fix leaky pipes and paint fences in exchange for chocolate cream pie or a dish of homemade lasagna. But Steven - “Steve, please” - was your most loyal customer, always lending a hand, pausing during his early morning jog to check up on you while you watered your flower beds, asking how your book is going, what you do in that “big old house all by yourself” when you aren’t working on “the next great American novel”, of course (his words, not yours).

It’s fine at first, a little disarming to be at the centre of his white hot attention, burning your flesh like he had you under a magnifying glass on a perfect sunny day. But eventually it’s not fine, eventually Steve Rogers takes more and more steps over the property line of overly friendly and into the front yard of wildly overbearing. Eventually, Mr. Rogers insists on weekly visits, popping into your house by using the spare key under the mat he shouldn’t even know about. Slinging his muscled arm over you during the neighbourhood block party, and your neighbour’s son’s 5th birthday party, and the Fourth of July barbeque. He fixes your car without you asking, brings in your groceries when he sees you unloading them in your driveway, brings your mail to you during his daily jog. It’s helpful sometimes, yes, but it’s also suffocating. And you were going to set him straight. You were! But it’s hard, hard to stare into the face of a suburban god, the literal king of the neighbourhood and tell him no. It’s hard to tell him that he’s making you uncomfortable, that you’d like for him to stop being so goddamn friendly all the time.

So maybe a little of it is your fault. Maybe you should’ve been clearer on your boundaries. Maybe, when handsome, strapping Mr. Rogers came to your front door to ask you to essentially cater one of his poker nights, you shouldn’t have stayed to serve the food, playing happy little housewife in front of Steve’s friends, bringing them cold beers from the fridge and sitting next to Steve, playfully making faces at his hand, then plating up dessert when he asked you to. But it felt good to have his attention. His favour. So when “the boys” start to head home, laying praise and amazement at your feet, you’re sufficiently buttered up for Steve to ask yet another favour of you. It’s not much, of course. Just a little help with cleanup. Then he’ll escort you home himself. After all, there are some real sickos out there.

So you agree. What’s the harm, right?

The harm, it just so happens, comes quickly after you finish drying the dishes Steve washes. You slide the last plate, towel dried as best you could, into his cabinets, sighing in contentment at a job well done. The harm is when Steve turns you around and presses you against the sink, water soaking into the back of your blouse, making the fabric cling to your skin. You stay there for a minute, not processing what’s happening, ready to laugh off another inappropriate joke from Steve.

You don’t really get the chance.

Two heavy hands clap down on your shoulders, exerting pressure on you until you crumple to the floor, knees hitting the tile of Steve's kitchen painfully. You yelp, struggling against him, pressing, then beating your fist against his tree trunk legs.

"Stev-" you choke on his name when your neighbour unzips his trousers before you, undoes the fly of the pair you helped him pick out, with him bent over your shoulder while you held his phone, his front pressed close to your back. Pulls his half hard dick out of pants starched and pressed with the iron he'd borrowed from you because his was "on the fritz" again.

"Open up." He cajoles, and you pin him with an incredulous, confused stare. No. No. This is all wrong. He doesn’t act like that. Steve Rogers isn’t like that.

The hand he doesn't use to stroke himself grabs your jaw, squeezing until you open your mouth, squeezing til it hurts. A sharp, purposeful punch of his hips is all it takes for him to make use of the opening. All it takes to put every little joke, boundary crossing, and stray touch into startling, horrifying perspective.

“It was the baking.” He whispers above you. “Peggy never baked, which was fine.” He sighs above you like he isn’t pistoning his cock deep into your throat with reckless abandon. “But I missed it, y’know? And you, you bake how angels ought to, sweetheart.”

Tears stream down your face while Steve uses you, dragging your dazed, crying face back and forth on his hard-on. On a particularly strong thrust, he broaches your throat. Your eyes roll up, until he can barely see the perimeter of your irises, and you warble out a miserable moan, begging, all while wrapped around his dick, for a reprieve. Your head is pinned to the counter behind you, and even though you shove against the muscle of his thighs, Steve brooks no quarter.

“Just take it,” he coos, like he wants you to swallow cough syrup, “it’ll be over soon.” his breath stutters when your lips brush against his balls. Steve moves one of his hands to cup the back of your head, keeping you as close as possible when he comes down your throat, groaning in pleasure while you struggle to swallow stream after bitter stream of his seed, lest you choke on it or fucking drown.

He finally releases you, and you pull back so fast you bang the back of your head on his pristine white counters. The pain radiates through your scalp, grounding you in the moment, cementing you to the spotless linoleum floor of Steve Rogers’ kitchen. You’re both panting, eager to fill your lungs with gulps of air.

“Whew.” He sighs, hands on his hips, like that took a lot out of him. “I didn’t mean to get so rough with you, just didn’t expect the struggle.” He chuckles, patting you on the head. “But you settled down quick, didn’t ya?” His tone takes on…contentment? Happiness?

No. That’s not quite right.

It’s pride. Steve is looking down at you, your spit and cum slick mouth, the weepy, watery state of your eyes, and the disarray of the hair he’d used as a handle, with pride.

Your stomach roils.

He bends low and you flinch away from him, smacking your head on the countertop again. He cocks his head at the involuntary movement, and smiles at you. A familiar, warm thing. One that made your heart flutter with pleasure, beat fast with your own surge of pride when he accepted a pie, or offered a compliment. Now it does the same, your heart speeds up, your palms itch curiously, and your brain doesn’t know if you’re happy or sad. Doesn’t know if it craves those smiles anymore.

“Just wanna set you on your feet. C’mon.” He speaks quietly, like he’s soothing a frightened animal, and hooks his hand under your armpits, heaving you up with the same startling strength he'd used to face fuck the fight out of you.

“It’s okay.” You bleat, voice as wobbly and unstable as the pair of legs struggling to keep you upright. And it’s not, it’s far from okay, the taste of him lingers in the back of your throat and if you think about it for even a second more you’ll throw up all over his shiny floors, on those godforsaken pants.

“I admit,” he laughs, ducks his head with that small town charm he does so well, “I wanted to last longer. But you were too good.” He winks at you, like you share a secret. Like you’re in league with each other.

He staring, waiting for you to say something, arches a brow like it’s your line and you’re fucking up the show.

But there it is again, that smile, sunny and open, and so pristine.

“Let’s get you home.” He herds you towards his front door, hand glued to the small of your back, his pinky finger stroking the skin exposed by the riding up of your still wet shirt. The two of you walk into the balmy summer air, and the spaces in between the black night, punctuated with the occasional white streetlight, designate your path home. Some of your neighbours’ houses are still illuminated, their warm yellow windows denoting the presence of life. You wonder what goes on behind their doors, you wonder if someone is having a good night somewhere close to you.

You come across your door faster than you were prepared for, the cheery yellow paint job Steve and James had done for caramel apple pie, mocks you. The way he’d smiled in your face, touched you, laughed. Steve shifts next to you, holding onto your extensive tower of pyrex and tupperware, for an instant your blood runs cold at the prospect of Steve inviting himself in, like he’s done so many times before. Not to bring in groceries or put together a dresser, but to pin you prone to the carpet of your bedroom and smile at you.

“So!” He turns, “Same time next week?” You gawk at him, and when you don’t say or do anything, he stoops and slides your extra keys out from under your Garfield emblazoned doormat. The jingle of two, simple metal keys against the little bell shaped key-chain makes your head pound, your blood boil. He unlocks the door, and gestures for you to take a step indoors. You raise both hands, palms upturned so he can give the keys back, so you can hide them, or melt them, or flush them down the toilet. Instead, you get to watch him slip the key-ring into his pocket, before he places your dishes into your uplifted open palms. “I gotta say, the lemon bars were a hit.” He tweaks your nose between his thumb and forefinger, his compliment tempered by the greedy shine in his eyes. You nearly scratch your own eyes out when you get that pleased, soft tingle in your chest.

He smiles and you salivate. He compliments you and your heart responds. He’s proud and your brain tells you ‘I’m happy’.

Why hasn’t it gone away? Will it ever go away?

“Maybe those brownies again, the cream cheese ones?” His voice is hopeful, soft and pliant, like he’s worried you’ll say ‘no’.

Like there’s a world where he’d take no for an answer.

You nod, a jerky, quick gesture that rattles your brain around in your skull. “Sure. Yeah.” You answer, sweaty hands slipping against tempered glass and plastic lids. “Yes. Brownies.” Steve beams, clapping his hands together, once, loud, drawing your eyes to the brutish width of them.

“Fantastic. I can’t wait.” He jogs down your front steps, and the fist secured around your lungs loosens with every step he takes away from you. He pauses at the side walk, one foot still on your property, the other poised to leave it.

“We make a great team. Don’t we?” He turns to you, and this time, he isn’t smiling. This time, his eyes cut through the night and the streetlight and the foggy haze of misfortune clouding your brain.

And the fear finally comes.

You kick your door closed, and you lock your door, and you drop your pyrex and tupperwear and serving spoons in the sink and you lock your windows and you get into bed, still dressed for a poker night you had no business being at, and you pull the covers up and up and over your face.

But the fear doesn’t go away.

And neither will your neighbour.

god i want him so bad. tomorrow, captain soap.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

support city girls who bought $50 of baked cheesecake today, reblog what you like.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

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Quick! Info dump about your favorite blorbo!

König headcanons

NSFW content below the cut, 18 + only (These apply to yandere König as well, the toxic stuff is marked with a red flag 🚩)

Does like 50 crunches and 50 pushups first thing in the morning when he wakes up, as he has done since he was a teenager.

Will fix everything from cars to furniture. If the door is creaking he will oil the hinges immediately. Actually, he will treat every single thing in life as a problem... A problem he will fix.

He's great at math and physics and has vast amounts of knowledge about mechanics, thermodynamics, even things like quantum theory and other complex astronomy stuff.

He's completely clueless when it comes to following trends and memes. You have to explain every other tiktok to him. He rarely uses emojis but when he does, it's awkward and slightly intimidating because König doesn't know the hidden meanings behind them. If you send him an eggplant or peach emoji he asks if you need veggies from the store.

Loves your cooking (even if it's just microwaved mac and cheese). If you start to feed this man, you'll never get rid of him.

This is your classic mama’s boy who never had to learn how to cook and then went to the army and got used to the facility taking care of him so… yeah. Doesn't know how to cook but will try to help in any way he can! König is very excited to see you’re making food and wanders into the kitchen like “What are we making today?” You can try and give him a chopping board, an onion and a knife, but this poor man doesn't even peel the onion unless you tell him he has to remove the outer layer first...

Eats like a horse. Is secretly afraid that you run out of food. Goes to the fridge and if it's half full, he will not take the snack he was supposed to have, only comments: "The fridge looks empty." (It's not a passive aggressive statement, he's just worried.)

Also: everytime there's a crisis somewhere – he follows the news neurotically – König starts to prep. There's a month's worth of food stashed in one of the cupboards at all times. He also preps fuel, propane, medicine and the like.

Ruins all the fun when you're playing board games because he fusses about the rules so much. König holds the rulebook in his hand through the whole game and double-checks every single thing.

He's very clumsy, sometimes hits his head on the door frame when he's in a hurry or visiting a new place. He can't stay still either, always shakes his leg when he’s sitting. König needs a lot of exercise when he's not deployed to get all that energy and frustration out.

This has been discussed earlier but yeah, König even drops his mags sometimes in the field because he's too excited. He's a very capable martial artist though. Has done Savate, Escrima and Pekiti-Tirsia Kali and is very agile and precise with the double kali sticks he carries to field sometimes. Suddenly his clumsiness disappears when he has to knife someone, kick someone in the head or beat them to death with those sticks.

This is the reason König fucked up his sniper dreams too: having to control his breath, lie still for long amounts of time, then take aim and shoot a rifle vs. aiming during an adrenaline high, giving a tight spurt or two with his SMG… The latter just comes naturally to him! If you ask him how he managed to take down a human trafficking cell all alone König will say he simply "got carried away."

König goes to the gym a lot. Gets back super pumped and with an urgent need to make love. But not before he's had a cold shower! It's almost like a ritual: he has to torture himself with weights and cold water first before he can have his prize (= access to a woman)

Wakes you up in the middle of the night because he started to worry about petty, stupid things and then got a lil horny. Humps your leg or your back very, very slowly while grunting in your ear: "Hey... Hey. Are you sleeping…?" (Like. Yes, König, I was but I'm not anymore, thanks for asking)

Asks what kind of fantasies you have all of a sudden while you two are cuddling. Asks very detailed questions about them too. If you ask him what kind of fantasies he has in return, König will tense up and then say he doesn't really know, perhaps something like… a blowjob in the forest… And somehow you just know that his real fantasies are so perverse you don't even want to know more about them.

If you "nag" or yell at him, he might get a boner.

If you notice and get offended, ask: "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?!' König will freeze and look at you with a bewildered, obsessed stare and go: "Ja..?" while the boner situation in his pants gets visibly worse.

🚩 Would never go to bed before you've settled your argument. The problem is that it's very difficult for König to apologize because he always thinks he's in the right and that you simply need some time to come to that conclusion too. If you give him the silent treatment he will eventually come to you, gets all touchy and asks surprisingly demurely: "Are you still angry with me?"

🚩 The minute you forgive him or decide it was a stupid argument anyways, the demure puppy act disappears. König thinks he won and that it's time for some makeup sex ❤️

Has like the longest cock known to man. He has actual trouble finding comfortable underwear to fit that beast into. It's beautiful but intimidating, uncut, smooth and sleek. Not too thick but certainly not thin either. He likes to keep himself tidy down there too so the lack of hair makes this murder weapon look even bigger.

You two occasionally break furniture while having sex. It's mainly his fault (he gets carried away). He's very upset about it afterwards though, looks at the destruction he caused, muttering "Scheisse…" while rubbing the back of his neck. Then he tries to fix it while you're still there with your legs shaking and in need of aftercare.

If you remind him that he has other duties first, perhaps whimper his name in frustration, König will apologize and carry you to bed. He gives you that precious aftercare with unwavering passion and attention every time you ask for it ❤️ He's just a little clueless sometimes (König is also neuroatypical, either has AD/HD or falls somewhere in the autism spectrum)

🚩 Hates condoms with an intense passion. You're practically forced to take birth control pills or whatever so that he can cum inside you. This man's whining will ultimately gain a level that's absolutely ridiculous if you don't.

The first time you do it without the rubber, he sounds like he's about to cry. He tells you a hundred times how good it feels, and won't pull out until he grows soft and is kind of forced to do so. For a man who's never even heard of a breeding kink, he seems vehement about keeping his load inside you.

🚩Grunts and whispers loving but obsessive things in your ear while making love to you. You're mine, Say it, Promise that you're mine, I don't want to live without you, Why do you feel so good? at first… but as he approaches his peak, König switches to German. You have no clue what he’s saying, but from the way he spits those sentences through gritted teeth you get the feeling that it must be something desperate and that perhaps it's a blessing you don't understand his native tongue...

🚩🚩If you leave your phone on the table he tries to stalk it and check the notifications. He's so jealous it's unreal, if he sees you receive a message from some other guy König will start a circus. He needs to know all about your connection with this man. After that, he wants you to go through your contacts and show him how many guys there are and tell him what your affiliations are with them. If you're on social media König wants to go through your friends/those you follow. You have to give an account who they are and why you follow them.

🚩🚩🚩 You get a feeling he's forming a list of people he has to kill if you don't tell him they're just a cousin or something 💀

#answered #könig headcanons #könig x you #könig mw2 #its not quick but its an infodump

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chrissweatytoes · 2 months ago

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SAFE WORD

WARNING INCLUDES: overstim, fingering, oral fem!receiving, unprotected sex (use protection kids), use of a safe word, degradation, use of pet names (baby, slut, ma, mamas). ENJOY!!

word count: 1.2k

⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆

BLURB - pairing chris sturniolo x fem!reader

softdom!chris who couldn’t get enough of you tonight… he’s already made you finish 3 times but this time you said no more…

chris and i always know our safe word, both of us know that we can use it, but we never have. we just never get too… into it.

i was laying in bed on my phone while chris was (surprise surprise), getting a pepsi from the fridge. i knew what i was wearing was a bit skimpy but i didn’t think it mattered, he hadn’t been looking at my body at all tonight… i stand up out of bed and look in the mirror next to chris’ desk, checking myself out, realising that chris’ shirt is the only thing im wearing other than lacy pink panties revealing my whole ass. i walk back over to his bed and grab my phone. i take a few moments to take some mirror pics and send them to chris, knowing he’s active on his phone. i stay on imessage to see when he sees the slutty photos i sent. as soon as i see that he’s seen the photos i hear huge, loud footsteps running up the stairs, the sound thumping through my head. when i hear the door creek open i quickly turn around.

“hi baby!” i go to walk over to him but he stops me, grabbing onto my waist and pulling my hips against his. chris immediately crashes his lips into mine, not pulling away until im sat on the end of the bed, shirtless.

“lay down, shirt off.” he says bluntly, swiftly ripping my shirt off and softly pushing my shoulder. now laying on chris’ bed in light pink panties and my bare chest facing him, it’s hard not to notice the massive bulge in chris’ pants and the fact he can’t stop staring at my tits.

“turn around. now.” i do as he says knowing that if chris is mad and horny nothing will stop him. i face the head of the bed on my hands and knees. i feel a light breeze of air hit my skin before his large hands slap across my ass.

“oww! chris!” i let out, then regretted it. “fuck.” i think to myself. telling him that it hurts is just going to make him do it more. “shit.”

i feel the tug of him ripping my panties down, feeling my juices drip down my thigh.

“shit ma, so wet already? you’re such a little slut you know that? sending me those pictures… what’d you think was going to happen?” i keep quiet, my light whimpering as the cold air hits my swollen folds. this only seems to turn him on more…

“on your back mamas” i turn myself around to lie on my back, my eyes looking directly at his. my body tenses as he shoves one finger inside me.

“fuck chris, not even any warning?” i drag my hand down to my clit attempting to build up my orgasm when he stops me, grabbing my wrists and taking off his belt, he ties them together. usually chris isn’t into bondage but tonight he’s completely different.

“m-more chris, please”

“are you gonna be a good girl?” i nod my head instantly, biting my lip in preparation for a second finger.

“mhm, if you say so. you better fucking be good. okay?” with ease he slips another finger inside me. my quiet whimpers turn into pornographic moans.

as i approach my high, chris moves his other hand from my hips, to my bundle of nerves, fast and swift with his movements.

“c-close…” i manage to say over my laboured breaths.

“come for me ma.” his words itself sends me over the edge, my body squirming as my slick drips onto his fingers. he licks his fingers, not wanting to miss even a drop of come.

“mmh you taste so fucking good baby,” chris kneels down on his knees, prying my legs apart and holding my thighs.

“c-chris?”

“yes sweetheart? too sensitive? well this is what you get for being such a little slut. you’re my slut hm?” he looks up at me through his lashes, all innocent looking. with no warning at all he brings his tongue up to my warm, and wet cunt. licking up all of my previous orgasms evidence.

i lift my head just enough to see chris’ face buried in my pussy.

“mhmm chris. yes! right there baby…” my moans mixed with the slurping sound fills the air.

chris shoots his fingers into my warm cunt and his lips latch onto my bean.

the thrusting of his fingers speed up as he watches my legs shake, struggling to hold on any more.

“s-so close…” with one more thrust, i released for the second time.

“shit ma, you taste so good… you did great baby, you think you can go again?” he lifts his head from my crotch, my juices all over his face.

i nod my head, unsure if i can go another round or not.

“i can try…”

“you can do it baby, just relax.” he unzips his jeans and lets them pool at his ankles. he then rips down his boxers, strokes his length a few times letting his pre-cum drip onto the bed sheets and then finally lines himself up with my pussy. he slowly starts letting his brick hard cock explore my warm cunt.

my whimpers grow into moans once his dick is finally all the way in.

“this okay?” he looks down at me with a scared look in his eyes, i can sense he’s worried about me.

i nod my head “mhm hm”

he picks up the pace and starts thrusting inside me. my tits are bouncing along to his rough rhythm. chris moves his hands to my hips, pressing hard enough to leave marks. as much as i want to touch him and pull his hair, i know how much it’s turning him on seeing my hands tied together.

“need… to… cum…”

“cum f’me, cum with me.” his words tip me over the edge, his movements become uneven and slower as he finishes inside me.

“fuck chris…” i say as he pulls out slowly.

“let me clean you up…” chris pulls up his boxers and jeans, kneeling again as he brings his mouth back up to my pussy.

“no, chris… i can’t.” this doesn’t stop him. he looks at me briefly. a hungry look in his eyes he lowers his head and starts sucking on my clit.

“chris stop.” i say bluntly trying to move away but his grip on my hips is too hard. he continues with his movements, not a care in the world.

“flash!” this stops him immediately.

“shit baby i’m so sorry…” he pulls away from my crotch and wipes his mouth on my shirt that now lays next to me.

“i’m so fucking sorry… i didn’t know you wanted me to stop so bad.” chris leans over me and unbuckles his belt that's holding my wrists in place. he crawls into bed and taps his chest, signalling for me to lay with him.

“it’s okay,i’m okay, don't worry. can we run a bath soon?” i crawl into his arms, pulling the duvet up to cover my naked body.

“sure baby, soon. i just want to hold you for a bit… i’m so sorry if i hurt you.”

⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆ᡣ𐭩⋆౨ৎ⋆

hey ya'llllll! i hope you enjoyed. this was my first time writing smut so ik its not gonna be great but i hope it was good enough! please honestly tell me what you though about this and what you wanna see in the future 💕

with love, mals x

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #smut #nick sturniolo smut #chris x reader

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lovebugism · 11 months ago

Note

blurbcember!!!

omg how about the prompt 14. the power goes out in our apartment building, but i’m not prepared for this, and you come to check on me with steve because neighbor!au has a special place in my heart 🤭😔

i'm definitely late for this request but i couldn't stop thinking about it! hope you like it angel! — your pretty next door neighbor keeps you company when the power in your building goes out, along with a couple of his friends (neighbors to lovers, fluff, 1.6k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

“I think I have cabin fever.”

“Eddie, shut up— it’s been five minutes,” Steve scolds from the darkened kitchen, where he’s trying to save the newly purchased beer from the warming fridge. He stacks the bottles neatly in a small, square cooler. It won’t keep them cold for long, but hopefully until the power comes back on.

“Soon we’ll have to decide which one of us to eat,” the wild-haired boy continues, still lazing on the couch with a beer in his hand. It stains a damp circle on the thigh of his jeans. He’s not at all fazed by the sudden outage.

“Remind me not to get stranded on an island with you.”

Aglow with orange candlelight, Robin shrugs from the adjacent sofa. She tilts her head on the arm of it to see Eddie more clearly. “The right answer is obviously Steve.”

“Obviously,” Eddie concurs.

“It’s ‘cause he’s so muscly.”

“And he eats, like, super healthy—”

Steve huffs and lugs the chunky cooler back into the living room, cradling the weighty thing with both arms. “Can both of you shut up about pretend cannibalism and help me with the door?”

The conversation stops. They turn to blink at him across the dim room, their faces swirled in a similar look of confusion. “Wait— Where are you going?”

“Next door,” Steve answers, fumbling with the cooler until he can shift it in his hold. The entrance squeaks — a louder sound in the uncanny quiet — when Robin swings it open. “I wanna check on my neighbor.”

You were the first thing that crossed his mind when the lights flickered. Swallowed in darkness, Steve lit a few candles and knew immediately that he’d go to you. He knows you’re alone over there — that you’re alone, and you hate the dark, and that the combination of the two makes you uneasy.

So he’s gonna stay with you until the lights come back on, and hope his friends don’t make him look like a total idiot while he’s doing it.

The emergency lights glow faintly and eerily yellow. Robin and Eddie follow him like lost puppies the short distance down the hall. The latter, blissfully unaware of personal space, leans against Steve’s shoulder like he’s about to tell him a secret. “The pretty neighbor?” the boy croons.

Steve sighs and stops in front of your door. The slightly chipped paint and the crooked numbers on the entryway match his own. He knocks as gently as he can with the toe of his sneaker. “Yes, Eddie. The pretty one,” he answers in a monotone.

“The pretty neighbor you couldn’t shut up about when you were drunk on my couch the other night?” Eddie continues to tease, directly into Steve’s ear, until he’s elbowed half-heartedly away.

The door swings open then. And, truth be told, you were somewhat expecting to see Steve standing there. Lying alone in your bed, trying not to make monsters out of the clothes in the corner, you were girlishly hoping he’d swoop in and save you.

Your heart starts to swell at the sight of him, glowing faintly amber beneath overhead auxiliary lights. Then it gets caught in your throat when you see the two strangers standing just behind him. A pretty girl with a freckled face and a boy with long hair and leftover eyeliner under his eyes.

“There she is,” the one with the wild hair lilts, dropping his head to his shoulder to smile at you.

“Hi,” you greet softly, because it’s muscle memory. Then, when the stranger’s greeting dawns on you— “…What?”

“Nothing. Ignore him,” Steve answers. “Can we come in? I brought booze.”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” you joke with a shy smile. To you, you would’ve said if you were braver. How can I say no to you?

“This is Robin and Eddie, by the way,” he says as he walks into your dimly lit apartment. It’s exactly like his but decorated much more intently — with plants and posters and mood lighting that’d be on under different circumstances. It glows with so many little candles instead, smelling faintly of sage and vanilla.

His two friends follow in behind him — Robin first, with an awkward smile and accompanying wave, and then Eddie, who’s visibly more confident.

Steve laughs. “Sorry. I was kinda in the middle of babysitting before I came over.”

“That’s okay,” you shrug.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Eddie says with a wide grin, holding out his hand to shake yours. He wears chunky, silver rings on all his fingers. “And I mean, a lot.”

You stick a hesitant hand in his warmer one. “Oh,” is all you can think to say.

“All good things. Don’t worry… Great things, actually.”

“That’s… good,” you waver with a forced laugh. Eddie hasn’t yet let go of your hand.

“I’ll be honest— when Steve said you were pretty, I was not expecting you to be this pretty.”

Your mouth falls open and then closes again. Sorta like a fish. You try to come up with something to say but can’t think of exactly what. You thought you were the only one telling all of your friends about the pretty neighbor next door.

“Eddie!” Steve scolds from across the room. He idles in the spot where the living room ends and the kitchen begins. He tries to duck away into the latter, but he wants you to come with him — so he can even be halfway alone with you. “Stop flirting and leave her alone.”

Eddie’s face swirls into an insincere pout. He drops your hand to walk further into the room.

“Oh, please, I was just being nice— don’t get your panties in a wad, Harrington.” He bends down at your coffee table, rifling through the bowl of Starbursts there until he finds a yellow one. It isn’t until he pops it into his mouth that he thinks to ask, “These are for everyone, right?”

You giggle again, much more sincere this time. “Sure.”

“Ooh,” Robin squeals under her breath from where she sits on your couch. She’s grabbing a handful of the pink kind before you can blink.

“Wanna help me with these while those idiots act like vultures?” Steve offers with a soft smile.

You know he doesn’t need help. Or, at the very least, that he could ask Robin and Eddie for it. But he’s asking you now, and you think you know a little bit as to why. At least, you hope you do. You nod at him, anyway. “Sure.”

“Sorry about them,” Steve apologizes when you’re both hidden inside the dark kitchen. He drops the cooler onto the counter, then stretches his aching arms while you light a candle.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile and shake out the match. “They seem really nice.”

“They’re idiots, but they mean well.”

“A little like someone I know.”

Steve meets your quiet smile with a squint. “Stop flirting with me.”

He reaches into the container to grab you a beer from inside it. The entire time, you’re finding the courage to say the words bubbling up in your throat. The five seconds it takes feels like eons and milliseconds at the same time.

“Can I ask you something?” you wonder as he passes you a bottle, the amber glass of it already breaking a sweat.

“Uh-huh.”

Steve uses the hem of his shirt to unscrew the top of his. You idle with yours, letting the cold bottle sting your delicate palm. “Why did you come over?” you ask, and then, when you realize how unkind that sounds, “Not that I’m not thrilled you’re here! I’m always happy to see you! I was hoping you’d come over, actually. I’m just— I’m just curious.”

Steve doesn’t seem to take offense to your words. Instead, the rambling of them makes him smile. “‘Cause I know you don’t like the dark,” he answers with a shrug. “And I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Oh. That’s nice.”

Again, he only shrugs.

The beer hisses faintly when you unscrew the cap of it. “So you would’ve done it for anyone, then?” you ask him, feigning nonchalance as you take a quick sip from the bottle.

“Hell no,” Steve scoffs.

You swallow and lick your alcohol-slicked lips with wide eyes. “No?”

“If those schmucks in there asked me to bring them free booze ‘cause their power went out, I would laugh in their faces,” Steve confesses, already chuckling at the thought — a golden sound that rivals the orange candlelight.

“I feel special now,” you giggle, hiding it behind the neck of your beer.

“That’s because you are.”

Your face burns hot, like so many orange embers blotching the apples of your cheek. You take a heftier swig of beer. Both to cool your blazing skin and to slow your racing heart.

“And I don’t think I’d be here if it were anybody else,” Steve tells you, raising the lip of his bottle to his mouth. “I like doing nice things for you ‘cause it’s you, you know?”

Your nose scrunches until the edges of your eyes crinkle. “Stop flirting with me,” you tease, parroting his words from earlier.

Steve squints. “Is it that obvious?”

“Drinking booze? In the candlelight? While you tell me pretty things? It couldn’t be more obvious, Steve Harrington.”

“You caught me,” he shrugs and props his elbow on the countertop. He tilts his cheek to his shoulder and flashes you a rosy, lopsided smile. Bathed by candlelight, his eyes glow a more honied shade. “I cut the power to half the city just so I could get you all to myself.”

His tongue swipes along his plush bottom lip. His eyelids get distinctly heavier.

“To yourself and your two best friends?”

You bring him back to reality with seven words. His face twists in offense to them. “Eddie is not my best friend, okay?” he chuckles. “He’s not even in my top ten list of best friends.”

“Don’t be mean,” you giggle, a pretty sound that makes him smile wider.

“Yeah, Stevie,” Eddie calls from the living room. “I have ears, you know? And feelings.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: bug turns one

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lionneee · 5 months ago

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You ask Aemond about Alys

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: taking of sexual themes and toxic relationship, Alys.•

Modern!Aemond x Older!Modern!Alys

Aemond and his girlfriend had just come home after dinner with some of their friends, when she asked him something he never would have heard.

“Tell me about Alys.” She asked as they took off their jacket and coat, slipping out of their shoes.

His expression hardened at the name of his ex-girlfriend. He hated hearing her name, remembering her.

“No.” He said in a cold tone, taking her coat and hanging it as she put away their shoes.

“Why not?” She insisted as they went in the kitchen, grabbing two glasses and the water from the fridge.

“Because I don’t want to.” He grunted, pouring the water in the glasses. His tone is still the same and he keeps staring at the glasses ahead of him. He remains silent, simply refusing to say anything about his ex, as in his mind he replays in his head what happened the last time he saw her. He closed his eye and shook his head, ashamed of that memory.

“I want to know about her.” She said, walking to him, hugging him from behind and resting her head on his back.

He sighed and got silent for a second. His tone became serious as he started speaking. His eyes were focused on the wall ahead of him.

“Why do you have to stick your nose in something that doesn’t regard you? Uh?!”

He was pissed, he knew she would have kept asking until he would eventually tell her. She pulled away from him, taking her glass and leaning back on the table.

“Jeez, what has she done to make you react like this now?”

He turned towards her but he kept his eye fixed on the wall ahead. She could tell he was thinking of something unpleasant as he stayed silent for a moment before sighing and starting to speak again.

“You don’t need to know what she did, okay?”

He didn’t look at her as he waited for her response, but his voice is not as angry as a moment ago.

“But I want to.”

God, she was stubborn.

His tone is still serious, but he doesn’t reply right away, he looks down at the floor, and after a few seconds he speaks again:

“Why do you want to know that so bad?”

“I’m curious.” She raised her shoulders as if she was saying something obvious. “You told me she was older than you.” She added then

Hearing the word ‘older’ he seemed to be more uncomfortable. He sighed deeply and he spoke again.

“Yes she was older than me.” He admitted coldly.

“How much?” She sipped her water, interested.

“She was thirty-five.” He glanced at her to catch her reaction, but she looked calm, just curiosity in her expression. She took her time to ask her next question.

“How old were you?”

Silence. His tone is now more stern.

“Seventeen.” He kept looking at her, studying her expression, but it didn’t falter, he still saw no judgment in her face.

“So… you were underage.” She stated. He stayed silent again for a while before speaking.

“Yes, I was.” His eye drifted back to the floor, as he clenched and unclenched his hand around the glass. She pressed her lips together.

“How did you meet her?” She took another sip of her glass, looking away from him.

The question brings back some memories, but he remains serious. His tone was more bitter, as he turned his head to the side.

“At a party. Aegon dragged me into a club.”

She smiled to break the tension, and hummed in amusement.

“That sounds like Aegon.”

He stayed silent for a moment before slowly nodding his head a bit. She could tell he started speaking with more anger. He’s not yelling, not answering meanly, but she could see he was holding back.

“Yeah, sounds like him. And it was because of him I even saw her in the very first place.”

She hummed and looked away. She was the one to bring up the topic, yet she felt uncomfortable hearing about Alys, but since he was answering her, she decided to keep going.

“So how did you two… you know… got together?”

His tone is colder and the bitterness in his voice increases.

“She approached me.” He stares at the water in his glass. If he thought about it enough, he could still smell her perfume, or hear her voice, even if it was now… five years ago.

“Mh. What was she like?”

She hated that she wanted to know that, but she was curious, she wanted the image of that woman in her head, even if what he could say would have hurt her or made her burn with jealousy.

He stops for a moment, thinking about how he could describe her.

“Dark eyes and hair, a bit curvy. Always nails, hair and makeup done. She always used this… red lipstick of hers. Rarely saw her without it. She always wore dresses that would shape her perfectly and show her breast.”

She was perfect.

She looked away, feeling a pain in her chest, and jealous of how that woman apparently always appeared perfect. Aemond looked at her, he put down his glass on the counter and stepped closer to her, taking her hand and kissing its back.

“She was beautiful, charming, and charismatic, but she was manipulative, mean and...” He sighed and looked away, leaving the phrase unfinished. “She acted in a kind and loving way towards me, at least in the beginning.”

“What about after?” She looked up at him, as he cupped her cheek with his hand, and she covered it with her own hand.

“It became a nightmare.” She furrowed her eyebrows, confused and concerned.

“What do you mean?” She asked worriedly.

He stays silent for a few seconds but his anger is obvious in his voice.

“She changed, or, well, she showed herself for who she really is. She was no longer the woman I met at the club. Her charming and loving behavior disappeared and she started to treat me horribly. She cheated on me often. Despite that she managed to keep me in her claws for three years.” He said in a mixture of shame and anger.

“How did she treat you?” She asked then, getting more worried.

Silence. His tone was very bitter and he seemed to be almost on the verge of losing his temper. This was a sensitive topic for him.

“She was verbally... and physically abusive towards me. She hit me on several occasions and did several other horrendous things I’d rather not describe.” He couldn’t look at her. He felt stupid. He felt stupid even after all that time, and he was ashamed of telling her how stupid he had been.

“Then why did you stay with her?”

At first, he didn’t answer her question and his tone remained bitter and frustrated as he stayed silent for a moment. When he started speaking again, he was clearly not happy to answer the question she just asked. He still sounded bitter and angry as he started to explain.

“Because she made me feel she was the only person who really understood me, that she was the only one who truly loved me.... That I wasn't worth it and I was nothing... And that no one else would ever want me other than her, or other things like that..”

She was surprised.

What the fuck?

She was… horrible. Who could even think of saying such things?

“… Wha- What kind of other things did she say to you?”

He looked at her in despair, but he knew she wanted to know, so he just talked.

“She used to say that I was ugly, that I was a disappointment, that I was too insecure, and that I was weak... that I would never be enough... I would have never been able to find another woman... That I would be alone forever.”

She felt like crying. He had to go through all of this? She wanted to keep him close and protect him from everything, everyone. He didn’t deserve that. Sure, he was complicated and a bit of a douche sometimes, but no one deserves such treatment. No one.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. She was cruel.”

He stayed silent for a moment but his tone indicated that her words helped him calm down a bit. He was less angry and less tense.

“Yes... She really was cruel. But I guess that's who she was all along, and I didn't notice it back then… But I think what I’ll never forgive her is that she made me a freak.”

She looked at him pained and even more confused.

“What? What does it mean she made you a freak?”

He didn’t respond right away and his tone became much more frustrated, he looked… ashamed.

“She was… my first time, and she was into some… crazy, disgusting things… and she kind of passed them to me, or at least, now I’m into some of those things too.”

She paused. She tried to elaborate his words.

“Like what?”

“I told you they’re disgusting. Why do you want to know? You’ll only get scared or… or you’ll be disgusted with me.”

She frowned.

“What? No. I won’t. Aemond, I won’t. Tell me.”

He seemed to consider your words again and again, taking his time to speak. He was embarrassed but he nodded and slowly started speaking again. He still kept his eyes down as he spoke.

“She was into painful things. Some very unpleasant things.”

“…Okay. Like what?” She softly encouraged him to say more.

The uncomfortable atmosphere was almost palpable. This was not a subject he wanted to talk about, but still, she could feel the burden that was placed on him. He was silent but finally he started to speak again, he sounded much more bitter. She could tell that this was something that really bothered him and hurt deep down but he would not go into much detail.

“She liked it rough. Like really rough. More rough than what we’ve ever done. She liked… to be slapped, she liked it violent.” He paused, as if to contemplate if he should have gone further, say it all. He sighed and he decided to be honest. “She liked some roleplay, but she was always the dominant part. So… I started fantasizing, and… I… I got into… like haunting roleplay. Haunting the prey and… once I caught her…” Rape her. He couldn’t finish it. He was too ashamed to say it out loud, but it was clear she understood. Yet, all she did was nod, she didn’t judge him. Though it was new for her seeing Aemond ashamed of something regarding sex. He was usually straight forward, confident.

“Obviously that would be consensual, I…” He sighed and looked away.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“No, I really think you don’t. I like it violent, disgustingly violent. I want to be the one to give it, not receive it.” He growled, as if he wanted to scare her away, as if he wanted her to be disgusted by him.

“I do understand, Aemond. I do.” She repeated softly. He shook his head and passed his hand over his face, rubbing his eye.

“How can you not be disgusted?” He mumbled, his face getting red with a mixture of frustration, anger and shame.

“You… You like what you like, there is no point in judging you. I know I can trust you.” She said with a soft smile. Aemond looked at her.

She was perfect.

It was all he could think. He leant forward suddenly and kissed her deeply, as she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and kept him close.

She was perfect.

He slipped his tongue inside her mouth, drinking in all of her, her taste, smell, her soft touch.

She was perfect, and she was his.

He pulled away and she smiled at him, caressing his cheek.

“Can I ask more?” She asked, and Aemond smiled. Her curiosity amused him, he was even more amused as now she asked instead of just insisting. He knew she was dying to know more.

“Yes.” He leant back on the counter as she unwrapped her arms from his neck and caressed his arms.

“Did she do something you didn’t like?” She asked then. Aemond nodded.

“Yes, but I… I always let her do it anyway.” He said, and she nodded, waiting for him to continue talking.

“She would… hurt me. She liked painful things, humiliation, degradation and violence.”

She bit her lower lip as she looked at him in pity. She knew very well Aemond was not into those kinds of things, actually, he was right the opposite. He had enough trouble during his childhood with his eye and bullying that he could never handle going back to being ashamed or weakened because of it, again. She put her glass down and she went to hug him.

“Oh, baby… I’m sorry I’ve made you go this far. I was just really curious.” She says sadly. Aemond hugs her back but after a while he pulls her away.

“No, it’s fine. I want to tell you.” He rubbed the back of his head as he looked away. “You might be the best person to tell this stuff to.” He added. She smiled softly, nodding.

“She… she used to treat me like a child, actually. If I did something wrong she would… punish me, let’s say that. She would ride me as punishment, slapping me and degrading me as she did so.” He took her hand as he looked down at it, and he started playing with her nails. “She was mean, before, and during sex, but she… she was nicer after it, telling me now I could go back to being good for her… she played nice for a while, so I wouldn’t go away. Not that I would have anyway, I… It was like I was addicted to her. She knew it and she used it. She used me.” Aemond clenched his jaw tightly as she kept looking at him worriedly.

“Aemond… but you got out of it.” She stated, putting a hand over his to reassure him. His expression contorted into one of disgust, and shame.

“I… It wasn’t nice, what I did. How I left.” He said in disgust. She put a hand on his cheek and turned his face to her, smiling at him softly, looking him in the eye.

“I’m sure she deserved what you did.” She said confident, but Aemond immediately looked away.

“No. Don’t say that, you don’t know that. You can’t know that.” He said angrily.

“Aemond, after what you’ve told me, I doubt you did so much worse than what she did. You were…” She shook her head, not really knowing what to say, but Aemond continued for her.

“What? I was what? Younger? I should have known better.” He said with his voice full of bitterness. There was a long moment of silence, as she looked down as he kept playing with her nails and fingers, then he went back to looking at her.

“If you could go back, would you have done something different?” She askec then, still looking down. He sighed and he intertwined his fingers with hers.

“No. I wouldn’t. What I did to her… It was… fair, but that doesn’t change the fact that… It was horrible.” Again, she took her time to answer. Then, she looked back up to him.

“Just like she treated you.” Aemond pressed his lips together and turned his head to the side, frustrated. She kept defending what he did like it was right, and he hated it. He felt guilty, he felt he had to feel guilty.

“You just can’t say things like that. You weren’t fucking there, you know nothing.”He spat out. she didn’t get offended, she knew he wasn’t angry with her, he was angry with himself, with his past, with Alys.

“Is she alive? Yes. Is she fine? Yes.” She stated, and keeping his head turned, he glanced at her.

“You don’t know what I did to her.” She nodded, and took a deep breath.

“Do you want to tell me?” She asked softly, caressing his hand.

“No. Not yet.” He looked back down, as images of that memory flashed in front of him.

She hugged him, and he immediately hid his face in her neck, bending down due to the height difference. He just wanted to forget, and be happy, even if he wasn’t sure he deserved it. He wasn’t even sure if he deserved to be with someone like her. She passed her fingers in his hair as she massaged his scalp.

He loved her.

Is this what love is?

All he wanted to do was keep her close all the time, feel her all the time, look at her all the time. He never had enough of her, not even of her stubbornness. She had her attitude, but just as he had his. Yet, he thought, he never felt he could fit better with someone else. He knew she was the one.

He hugged her tighter as she responded by kissing his neck.

She was the one. He would never let her go. There was no better place for her better than his side, just like for him, it was her side. She pulled away from the hug and took his hand, talking softly.

“Let’s go lay down, yeah?”

Taglist:@ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy

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catharusustulatus · 1 year ago

Text

Steddie Drabble, TW: child abuse.

Initially, Wayne doesn’t care for Steve. Calls him “the Harrington boy” or “Richard’s son” with contempt, asks if “Richard’s son” is coming over for dinner again and Eddie just rolls his eyes and says “yes, Wayne, STEVE is coming over at 7.” Wayne doesn’t like him because…well, he’s not stupid to judge a book by its cover, he thinks.

But the fifth time Harrington comes over, he brings a bouquet of flowers, and Eddie, well, his cheeks are redder than the spaghetti sauce Wayne’s been stirring, so that’s something.

And then the sixth time Steve comes over, he brings Wayne a Garfield magnet. It’s small, “found it at the thrifty mart with Robin, I’m sorry it’s not brand new…” Steve mumbles, and Eddie is wide eyed and smiling, and Wayne LOVES Garfield. He puts it on the fridge, pats Steve on the back, says “um, thank you son.”

They fall into a pattern, the three of them. Steve comes over for dinner every Friday night after work. He dresses clean and is polite to Wayne, helps with the dishes, sometimes brings bread rolls or licorice or beer or jokes. Eddie starts setting the table. Wayne starts laughing at the jokes. After Steve leaves, Wayne knows Eddie smiles himself to sleep. It’s different, now.

And then the next time Steve is supposed to come over for dinner, he doesn’t show. Eddie had been making macaroni and cheese all evening, grating the cheese carefully as he bopped his head to some metal song, cheerful, and then it was 7 and then it was 8 and then Wayne thought “maybe call him, Ed.”

Nobody answers. When they call again, nobody answers. And Wayne has a bad feeling about it.

It isn’t until almost 11, dinner cold and Eddie pacing, about to radio someone named Robin when Steve’s car pulls up, they know the lights so well. They run outside to greet him and Eddie freezes when Steve starts falling out of the drivers seat, face dark and pained. Wayne jumps into action. Wayne catches Steve and hauls him into the trailer, his living room, and oh god, he’s covered in bruises like he was put through Eddie’s cheese grater, and oh god, Eddie’s broken out into tears behind him.

Steve’s left eye is swollen shut, and his face is purple and bloody. His lip is split and his hair is wild, his shirt is torn, and Wayne wonders what’s underneath the shirt as he gets the first aid kit, wonders how the hell he thought Steven was anything other than an angel.

Eddie gets a dish towel wet in the kitchen and cleans Steve’s face, quiet and crying, and Wayne sets the first aid kit down next to Eddie and makes some coffee. He thinks about talking, doesn’t. Touches the Garfield magnet for good luck. He feels like maybe Steve needs it.

Steve who is holding Eddie’s wrist as he cleans him up, wincing and crying from his good eye. Finally, after a silence that gives Wayne heartburn, Eddie sits back on his heels and says whisper quiet, “your dad?”

Steve gulps, blinks. “My uh, my dad. I was writing you uh, uh a love note.” Eddie looks over at Wayne. Wayne wipes his brow. “But uh, he found it, and your name’s not uh, Edith” Steve lets out a chuff, winces again. “So he asked what was going on, and I told him. I told him. And then he said I had one minute to take it back or he’d make me take it back.” Eddie lets out a small gasp, more like a howl, and sits completely on the floor. Wayne sits down at the table, cold mac and cheese looking like a sick joke. And he’s so mad. Wayne is so, so mad, seeing this young man who so obviously loves his pride and joy, shares in his pride and joy, who brings him apples to make apple pie, he growls out

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Steven, not one thing. You stay here long as you like, hell, don’t leave. We got you, boy.”

And that’s that. Steve crumples in on himself, and Eddie pulls him into a big hug, just holds him, rocks him, coos “a love note, huh, sweetheart? For me?” And Steve nods until he nods off.

The next morning, while Robin takes care of Steve, Wayne and Eddie break into Steve’s room, clear out everything he owns, and slash his dad’s tires. That was Wayne’s idea - the least he could do for a loved one.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #wayne munson #I just am obsessed with Wayne being like who is this snotty rich kids oops I adopted him #Wayne and Steve forever #also Steve gives me huge scared of my dad vibes #so I just feel like if he came out he’d be beat up #tw: abuse #but I also think that if Steve was hurt #Wayne and Eddie would be like oh yeah? death to you #anyway idk #I just love them your honor

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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You're My Home

Summary: You and Javi have both had one of those weeks where no matter how hard you try, nothing seems to go right. It only takes so long before something stupid makes the both of you snap. When Javi confesses to you what's been putting him on edge, you find a way to make it up to each other.

Word Count: 4.9K

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), established relationship, unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap), vaginal fingering, creampie, angst, PTSD (poor Javi has a panic attack but you help him through it), hurt/comfort, makeup sex (!!!!), bad communication but apologizing/forgiving each other, mentions of food/eating, reader wears Javi's shirt and is carried by Javi, fluff fluff fluff bc you two are so in love with each other it hurts

This can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!

A/N: I don't know what's been in the water that has me so compelled to make something angsty, but here we are!! Once I started writing this I quite literally could not stop, and it turned out to be one of the most intimate things I have ever written 😭🥺 I love these two sm

It had been a week.

A long fucking week.

One of those weeks where it felt like no matter how hard you tried, everything just felt… off. You had just started volunteering to run the Alma Pierce Elementary School drama club, which had you staying an extra hour and a half after school every Monday and Wednesday, on top of preparing for Parent-Teacher Conferences next week. You loved your group of students this year, but holy shit, were they chatty, and the past few days you felt like you might as well have put a cardboard cutout of yourself at the front of the room and left, because your class had absolutely zero interest in paying attention to you. To top it off, you could tell that Javi was having a bad week too. You hadn’t seen much of each other the past few days, with you working late and prepping for conferences, and Javi working on a new project the department had dropped in his lap without notice. Even though you lived in the same apartment, you had felt like strangers this week. Sure, you’d had off days before, but the two of you were always open and honest with each other, seeking comfort and safety in the other's presence, knowing that you were both there for one another, through good times, and bad.

But this week was not like those “off” days. Something about it had felt tense, cold, even. You hated it. You hated every second of it. The two of you were never like this. Javi was your best friend, yet somehow, sitting in the same room, you still felt a million miles apart. Every interaction that you’d had left a worse taste in your mouth than the last- snapping at each other over stupid things like unclosed containers in the fridge or leaving towels on the bathroom floor. The worst was that Javi just could not seem to let things go, his presence feeling overbearing, almost bossy, with everything that you did.

“You left the iron on while you were getting ready, you’re gonna burn down the fucking aparment.”

“Double check the locks on the door, you forgot this morning.”

“If you don’t fix the bath mat before you get in the shower, you’re gonna break your goddamn head open.”

Even worse than that, when you tried to politely remind Javi about something, or do something helpful for him, he had been a complete asshole to you.

“Yes, I can remember to clean it up after I’m done, I’m not fucking 8 years old.”

“Jesus, I know we need more coffee creamer, you put it on the grocery list and reminded me twice.”

“I can put away my own laundry, just let me do it.”

It felt like he was breathing down your neck, the fly in your ear that just wouldn’t go away, and it made you want to scream. You had considered yourself to be a pretty patient person- working with kids, you had to be, but this week, Javier Peña seemed to be testing every ounce of patience you had left in your body, and you were about to run out.

Your Friday night routine with Javi normally consisted of the 3 same things every week

Javi picking up pizza from place down the street on the way home from work

Eating the pizza and watching a movie

Pausing said movie to have sex, finish watching the movie, and then fall asleep on the couch.

On this particular Friday, you had a very strong suspicion that none of those 3 things would be happening tonight. When you came home, you practically collapsed from exhaustion the moment you got through the door. Dropping your bag and kicking off your shoes, you crawled your way to the couch, completely collapsing in its cushions, taking a few deep breaths to try and regain your composure from the hellish day it had been. You finally mustered up enough strength to get up and change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable before sulking around the apartment, making yourself finish chores that had seemed to go neglected all week. Javi was normally home a half hour after you, but as you looked up at the clock, he was 20 minutes later than usual. It wasn’t long before another hour had gone by, leaving you absolutely starving, unable to wait for the dinner Javi may or may not be bringing home. You scavenged through your fridge and pantry, pulling out sauce and spaghetti to make yourself pasta to at least tide you over.

When Javi got home two hours past his normal arrival, you were shocked by the smell of pizza that filled your apartment as he walked through the door. You were even more shocked by the reaction he had to seeing the pot of noodles you had left out on the stove while you sat at the kitchen table to finish report cards to hand out at conferences.

“Did you already fucking eat?” His tone was sharp and brash as he dropped the pizza box on the kitchen counter.

“Well you’re home two hours later than normal, Javi. What was I supposed to do? Not eat? I’m more than capable of fending for myself if you’re not here with pizza.” You could feel pressure in your stomach rising, clenching your fists to try and hold in the last bit of patience you had.

“That’s not the fucking point. You know I always get pizza for us on Friday, you know I’m bringing you dinner, I can’t help that things have been a shit show at work and I’m still trying to at least do something to take care of you.”

Take care of you? Nuh, uh. That was the last straw.

You stood up out of your chair, palms flat on the table as you glared at Javi. “Take care of me? Seriously, Javi? Like I’m some sort of helpless little puppy that can’t fend for themself? I am more than fucking capeable of taking care of myself, and this whole week you have been acting like I am literally incapable of doing anything in this house. Listen, I can tell things have been shitty for you at work, and this week has sucked for me too, but every time I try to go do something nice for you, something to actually help take care of you? You’re already halfway down my goddamn throat, telling me to stop or fix whatever it is I’m doing.” Your heart was racing, blood pumping through your veins so intensely, you could feel your hands begin to shake.

“Because it’s my fucking job to take care of you!” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as you stood with your hands on your hips, laughing at him in the least humorous way possible.

“Your job? Your fucking job? You don’t think I’m capable of taking care of myself? That’s fucking great. So you can take care of me, but I can’t take care of you? Yeah, that makes sense. Un-fucking-believeable. I don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you this past week, but I can’t do this right now. I’m going on a fucking run.” You stormed to the door, throwing on your shoes as you white knuckled your keys in your grasp.

“You fucking hate running!” Javi yelled, clenching his jaw before burying his hands in his face.

“I don’t fucking care!” You grunted back, deliberately slamming the door behind you as you sauntered down the stairs of your apartment to the parking lot. Javi was right, there was no physical activity you hated more than running. You weren’t really sure what your plan was, just that you couldn’t stand there fighting with Javi anymore. You could feel the adrenaline flowing through you, enough to make you pick up your feet and actually begin sprinting down the sidewalk. You just kept running. Running until you could feel your sides begin to hurt, until your eyes began to sting from the tears welling behind them, until your chest felt like it was collapsing in on you, making you stop in the middle of the cement pathway in a full on breakdown. You could barely catch your breath, sobbing, as your hands dropped to your knees, your body trembling with each pathetic whimper.

What the fuck were you doing? Why was Javi being like this? Why were you being like this? Why won’t he just talk to you? Why can you just not make things right? Why was the one person you loved more than anything in the world the one who was making you feel like you’d been run over by a semi-truck?

Wiping your tears and snot with your sleeve, you took a deep breath and turned around to head home, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was causing you to both suffer through the worst week ever.

“Javi?” You peeked into the apartment, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” He answered, his voice still sharp, making you wince as you walked over to the couch where he sat.

“Javi… Javi what’s going on? I can’t do this anymore. If I did something to make you mad, I’m sorry, I just-”

“Fucking work has just been a shit show, okay?” He snapped, cutting off your sentence. “I’m going to bed, I’m fucking exhausted.” He sighed as he got up, storming his way down the hallway, leaving you there alone on the couch, your bottom lip quivering as the tears began to stream down your face again, leaving you in a silent, sobbing heap on the couch.

You waited a while before getting into bed with Javi, entering your bedroom in its already dark state to avoid crossing paths while the two of you finished your nighttime routines. You crawled into your comforter, eyes still red and puffy as you lay back to back with Javi, without so much as even a good night, let alone, an “I love you.”

You could feel yourself stirring, tossing and turning in your sleep as you rolled over, outstretching your arm to an unfamiliarly empty space. You turned over to face Javi, now finding yourself wide awake at the fact that he wasn’t there next to you. Immediately, you shot up, calling out his name as you got out of bed, wondering where the hell he was. As you made your way into the hallway, you whispered his name once more before hearing the sounds of heavy, labored breathing coming from the living room. You rushed in, finding Javi sitting on the floor, his hand grasping at his chest with a look of pure panic on his face.

“I feel like… Fuck, I feel like I can’t breathe. My heart is beating so fast.” He whimpered between his shaky breathing and sobs. “I just- I just kept seeing it over and over again in my head and I woke up and it still wouldn’t go away. Every when I wake up, it’s like it’s fucking haunting me. I feel like something’s crushing my chest. Baby, what’s happening?” He gasped as he looked up at you, helpless and desperate.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You knew exactly what was happening.

Immediately, you climbed into his lap, wrapping yourself around him as tightly as possible, stretching your arms as widely as you could around the broadness of his body. You tried to slow your breathing down, taking long inhales and exhales as you held him. “Just breathe, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe, I promise. I’m here. Deep breaths, okay?”

“Osita, I can’t- Fuck. Fuck, fuck.” His voice was trembling, each word low and labored as he grasped at the back of his shirt you had draped over your back.

“I know, baby. I know. I know it’s scary. I promise that you’re safe. I’m here, okay? Just breathe. In and out. I’m not leaving. You’re safe with me, I promise it will be okay.” Even though your heart was shattering, you did everything you could to be the calm in his storm, whispering your reassurances in your soft, sweet voice. Slowly but surely, you could feel the intensity of his breaths lessen, the rising and falling of his chest easing as he grasped tighter at your shirt, pulling you closer to him.

“It’s okay, Javi. It’s okay. Listen, I’m gonna ask you to do something, alright? It’s gonna sound stupid but it’s gonna help.” You could feel him nod against your chest, his sobs finally beginning to slow. “Can you open your eyes and tell me 5 things you see?” You felt him lift his head, looking up at you, his face wet and red as his deep brown eyes locked with yours.

“Fuck, um, the- the wall, the carpet, the uh, um, the couch, shit, the TV, you. I can see you.”

“Okay, perfect. What about 4 things you can touch, like feel in your hands?” You smiled gently at him as his breathing was now at a near normal rate. He raised up his arm, wiping his damp face with his palm.

“My fucking wet face.” The both of you smirked, bringing you relief that Javi was already half laughing. “The carpet, my shirt, that always looks better on you than it does on me. Fuck, I can feel your skin, it’s always so soft. I love feeling it.” He ran one of his hands along the bare skin of your thigh, his fingers grasping at your flesh.

“You’re doing great, baby. How about 3 things you can hear?”

“Um, the cars outside, the fan, I could feel your heartbeat when I was on your chest.” He pressed his head back against you, raking your fingers through the ends of his damp curls, sticking to his forehead from his panicked sweat.

Okay, almost done. What about 2 things you can smell?” You asked, running your fingers along the nape of his neck.

“Your shirt smells like laundry. No matter how hard I try it just always smells better when you do it. And your shampoo. It always smells so sweet and fruity, it’s my favorite.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hand gently tugging at the ends of your hair, twisting his fingers through it.

“Okay, last one. Something you can taste.” He lifted his head, looking at you as he slid the hand in your hair to cradle your jaw, cupping your face.

“You.” He rasped, his lips barely pressing against yours, feeling the hot breaths between your mouths as they met. He pulled back, pausing for a moment before he spoke. “Baby…I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. This week has been all my fault. I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this and I was scared. I was so fucking scared.”

“Javi, it’s okay. Please, I just want to be here for you. You know you can tell me anything, okay? I love you, Javi. I love you more than anything. I know it hurts to talk about the things that scare you the most, but it’s even scarier watching the person you love hurt so badly and not knowing what to do to help them. I don’t care what it is, baby. There’s nothing you can tell me that’s gonna scare me away.” The look on his face nearly broke you. You could tell he was so hurt. Hurt by whatever had been haunting him. Hurt by the fact he wasn’t okay. Hurt by the fact that he had hurt you.

“The project I’ve been working on this week… It all started because of how bad things are getting across the border in Mexico. A mom was out with her kids and they were all shot in a hit and run accident between two people making a drug trade. It was only an hour from here. I watched so many people do so many fucked up things that I thought I would never have to worry about again once I got home. And even if I did, I was going to be the only person I needed to worry about. But I couldn’t stop imagining that mom with her kids was you. You and our future kids. Every night since that fucking case file got set on my desk, I wake up to the same fucking nightmare of me running down the street, trying to grab you, push you, do anything to get you out of the way, but every fucking night I’m never fast enough. All I can do is watch as that bullet goes through you and you fall to the ground. I can’t let it happen to you. What if something goes wrong and I can’t protect you? I couldn’t fucking live with myself. I just want to keep you safe Osita. I’m so sorry. I love you too much to lose you.”

Fuck.

It wasn’t long before you were crying with him, squeezing him tightly once again, pressed against the warmth of his bare chest. That’s what had been going on. That’s why he had been so overbearing. That’s why he hadn’t been the Javi that you’d known and loved this week. On the night he’d told you the worst of the things he had seen and done away in Colombia, you had seen how his eyes had filled with regret, remorse, even anger. But this was different. Never once in the time that you’d known him had you seen Javi so scared. The look in his eyes when you found him sitting on the floor was one of pure terror. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like, waking up night after night to the image of Javi slipping away, let alone coming to grips with the reality that you couldn’t even fathom, and he knew far too well. Javi knew you had no problem sticking up for yourself. You were strong, tough, and fiercely independent- those were all things he loved so much about you. But those things weren’t enough to protect you from the dangers that haunted his past, or the terrifying reality of the present.

Through the silent cries of your sobs, you felt Javi’s hand under your chin, lifting your head to force your eyes to meet. “Osita, I’m so sorry. Pease, please forgive me. I’ve been so lost in my own world this week because I’ve been so scared about what could happen to you. I had my head so far up my own ass that I thought I was doing everything I could to try and keep you safe in any way that I could, and instead I’ve just been a fucking dick to the person I care about more than anything in the world. I don’t wanna fight anymore, I fucking hate it. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You draped your arms around his neck, your fingers tracing small, gentle circles along his back as you stared back at him. “I didn’t know, Javi. I didn’t know you were so scared. I’m so sorry. I don’t wanna fight anymore either. This has been the shittiest week. I missed you. I missed my best friend.” He pressed his hand against the back of your head, cradling it in his palm as he hugged you tightly. “You just have to promise me something, okay?”

“Anything. Anything, baby.”

“You have to promise me that you can’t keep all of this in. You have to promise me you’ll talk to someone about it. Me, your dad, people at work, Steve, a therapist, someone. There are so many people who care so much about you who just wanna help. You’re the strongest person I know, Javi, but it’s okay to not be strong sometimes.” He let out a long, shaky breath, darting his eyes down at the ground, the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. “You promise me?” You asked again, grabbing his face in your hands, swiping your thumb along his wet cheeks.

“I promise.”

In that moment, it was like the two of you could feel something in the air change. The tension lifting, the frustrated fog fading, the both of you desperately needing the other to know how sorry you were for the way you had acted. You found yourself face to face, eyes closing as your mouths came together in the most gentle, tender kiss. But even as your parted lips barely pressed against one another, you could practically feel how desperate you both were.

“I love you.”

Even though you whispered it against the soft, unshaven stubble of Javi’s cheek, it feels like you’re screaming it, determined to make sure he hears those 3 words as they fall from your lips, that he knows how much you mean each one, every second of every hour of every day. You can feel the heat in your chest as his hands grasp around the small of your back, pulling you closer as your bodies melt together, the tension straining in your muscles dissipating with each second he pulls you closer.

“I love you too.”

It felt like suddenly, all was right with the world again. The Javi you knew and loved had come back, returning home to you. All of the fear and sadness was replaced by a rampant desperation to know how much you needed him, almost as much as he needed to show you how desperately he craved you, too. The tingle built at the base of your spine as his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, his hand creeping further up your belly, pressing against the curves of your sides. You raised your arms as his fists balled up the worn fabric, carefully lifting it over your head as his hot breath ran against your neck, leaving gentle, tender kisses along your newly exposed skin. Your hands pressed against his hips, tugging at the waistband of his cotton sleep shorts as he locked his arms under your legs, bringing you both to stand as you wrapped your legs around the small of his back, the skin of your bare chests brushing against each other as he carried you toward the bedroom. Each kiss of your parted lips was like a plea, begging that the other would forgive you, that despite the way you had treated each other there was no one in the world that you loved more, that you would rather be with right here, right now.

Crossing the threshold to the bedroom, Javi leaned his body over the mattress, carefully placing you down in the warm, tangled sheets of your bed that had felt so cold and harsh only a few hours ago. You looked up at Javi standing at the end of the bed as he nudged his shorts off of his hips, leaving him exposed, the clothes now pooling around his ankles. Crawling over you, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, the only thing left on your body after your shirt had been left behind in the living room. You lifted your hips, helping him shuffle the fabric down your legs as he ran his hands along the meat of your thighs. He leaned over you, the temples of your foreheads pressed against each other as his fingers danced along the skin of your bare legs, barely grazing against your entrance. You could already feel the slick of your arousal pooling under his touch, the calloused pads of his fingers ever so gently tracing up and down your folds, making you shutter.

“Javi... Please.” Your voice trembled as Javi nodded, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You gasped as you felt the thickness of his fingers heedfully pushing themselves inside you, arching your back against the bed as his thumb delicately pressed on your clit. Each thrust of his hand in and out of your heat was dragging and deliberate, the rubbing of his fingertip along your sensitive bundle of nerves making your moans muffled against his chest. Every touch of his hand made you feel better than the last, but there was something primal about the way that you needed him inside you, how you ached to feel him buried deep in heat, to feel every inch of him. “I need you. Please, I need you.” You whimpered against his skin, making him lift his head to look at you as you watched the chocolate brown of his eyes grow darker with lust. He worked in silence, removing his fingers as he stroked himself, making your cunt throb in anticipation as you felt the tip of his cock stroke along your entrance, a moan escaping from your parted lips as he guided himself inside you.

“Fuck…” He whispered, pushing himself in further, inch by inch, before bottoming out, his tip bumping against your cervix. You wrapped your legs around his back, doing anything you could to bring him closer to you, trying to melt your bodies into one and hold him so tightly you could never let him float away again. You dug your nails into his muscular back as he began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke, as if he was savoring every sweet moment. “I love you, Osita. I love you so much, baby. Gonna make you feel good, okay? I promise.” It was like you could feel his words with each stroke, the promise that had fallen from his lips burying itself deep inside you with every rock of his hips against yours. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of your mixed moans and skin hitting against each other. Even when no words escaped from your mouths, it was almost as if you could hear each other through the sounds between the two of you, coating your walls.

I love you.

I need you.

I’m so sorry.

His palm pressed along the sheen of your skin, snaking down your body to rub against your clit, intensifying the throbbing that you already felt growing between your legs. With each thrust of his hips, his cock pounded deeper into your heat, hitting the spot within you that had the arousal beginning to pool intensely within your belly, that creeping familiar feeling building at the base of your spine. You dug your nails deeper into Javi’s skin, grasping for the damp curls at the nape of his neck, your whimpers growing louder and more desperate with each stroke as you could feel yourself beginning to crumble beneath him.

“Javi, pleaseee. Bab-ahhhhh, I’m so close.” You felt your cunt begin to clench around his length, making him moan as each push and pull of hips became more intense, punching against your g-spot and making your writhe under his touch.

“I know you are, Hermosa. Cum for me baby, cum all over me and show me how you’re mine.”

His words make something inside you snap, making you shake and your body tense as your arms and legs tightened their grip around Javi, crying out his name as your orgasm rushed through you. His lips met yours, swallowing your moans as his pumps became frantic and sloppy, only taking a few more before he was chasing his own high. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking perfect. Te amo más que a nada. Soy tyuo para siempre. (I love you more than anything, I’m yours, forever.). Fuck, I’m gonna- shit- I’m- ahhhhhhh” With one last push, you could feel him throbbing inside you, spilling against your walls, pumping every last drop of himself inside you as he slumped into your body, your hearts racing, chests rising and falling as one. The two of you laid there for a moment, your bodies tangled in each other, letting each of your breaths sync as you came down from your blissed out highs. Javi hissed as he turned over to pull out of you, making you whine at the loss, before rolling over to lay your head on his chest. You could feel his arm wrap around you to pull you in closer, his fingers tracing along your shoulder blade as you draped your arm across his stomach.

“I guess that’s one way to make up for this shitty week.” You giggled as Javi shook his head, joining you, the both of you glad to hear the sweet sounds of each other's laughter for the first time in much too long. “Can we never do this again? I never wanna fight like that ever again. These last few days have sucked without you.”

“Never. This was the fucking worst. Never again. I promise.” He kissed the top of your head, burying his nose in your messy curls as he held you just a little bit tighter.

“Okay.” You smiled against his warm, tanned skin before looking up at him. “You wanna know the worst part?”

“What, baby?”

“I didn’t even get to eat any of that pizza.” Javi chuckled as he shook you playfully in his grasp, making you squirm and snicker as he held you.

“There’s still some left in the fridge. Let me go get it and you can tell me all about your week, okay?” He kissed your forehead as he pushed himself out of bed, making his way to the door.

“Okay. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, I didn’t even get to tell you how I had to call Mark’s mom in the middle of math because he stuck a crayon up his nose yesterday.” The both of you snorted as Javi looked back at you.

“I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

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assassinmidnight · 1 month ago

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Flufftober day 17, Only one bed

Jason/RedHood xVigilante!AFAB!Reader

Reader's vigilante name is Score

Not proof read, I have dyslexia and a test tomorrow(sorry for any mistakes)

Summery: You need a place to crash for a bit, but Jason only has one bed.

The world was ending, legit ending. Lex Luthor must have planned this because this is pure evil. The thoughts run through your mind as Jason gives you the keys to his place. “I know it’s not ideal, but we don’t really have a choice in the situation,” he flashed his signature grin before heading further into the run-down studio.

It was one medium sized room with a door that led to the bathroom, the plumbing was probably illegal in some way, knowing Jason. The place had a portable stove, a microwave and a mini fridge in one corner. Work out equipment and a huge computer set up in another, and there was a singular bed pushed against the only window in the building. Only one bed, not even a couch.

“Um and you’re still sure about this, you know, sleeping in the same bed,” you mutter out, eyes darting about as to not meet his eyes. “I told you it's fine, ill shower before and i’ll wear a bodysuit if it makes you feel better, but no way that you are sleeping on the floor,” he held up a one piece as to show he was telling the truth, he wouldn’t let you sleep on the cold floor, and you wouldn’t let him do that either. “Okay, um thanks, for letting me stay for a while,” he looked over at you, putting down a dumbbell. He felt the need to let off steam and the mere thought of sharing a bed with you, but seeing your face fall trumped any jitters. “Hey it’s okay princess, I'll always be here for you, in any capacity you need. Promise,” he smiled, having walked up to you. You smiled back, though you felt your heart tug, he couldn’t be there in the way you wanted.

—

“Score, do you have eyes on them?”

Red Hood’s voice echoed through the com in your ear, voice laced with something you couldn’t place. “Yeah, three men, 6-6’2 I’d say, all armed with guns.” Currently you were sitting on the roof of a building in downtown Gotham, scouting the area before you and Hood went down to ‘take care’ of it. You could feel the goosebumps grow on your skin, you wanted to blame the cold but knew that it probably had more to do with Jason speaking so slowly into his comm. You knew it was to avoid detection and to help the voice manipulator in his mask a bit more, but still, it sent lightning up your spine. “Are you ready?” “Yes,” your response was immediate and automatic, you knew it was because of Jason’s voice, otherwise you’d probably spend 5 more minutes preparing mentally for all the loud noises.

—

You wobble into the studio, exhausted, with Jason on your heels. It had been fairly easy, but the guns had been louder than you had anticipated, and with the amount of close combat that had been required you felt overstimulated to the max. Just wanting to sleep you barely got out of your suit before hitting the bed, somewhere behind you Jason mentioned making you some tea if you took a short shower and changed into something else. Just by being Jason he convinced you, and you would’ve felt bad if he had to sleep next to you while you were smelling of sweat and gun residue.

Jason heard how the shower turned on and wondered if maybe he should tell you. He didn’t want to, but maybe it would be better if he did, he didn’t want to be selfish like this. The decision whirled around in his head as he prepared your cup of tea.

Getting out of the shower, feeling more refreshed, your mind noted on something you had missed, you hadn’t felt uncomfortable at the thought of sharing the bed with Jason, despite feeling overstimulated, it had even been a pleasant thought the more you mulled over it. You felt Jason’s eyes on you as you opened the door to the bathroom. He walked to the bed and sat down, waiting for you to come. When you did he made sure to get you comfortable and then handed you the cup. The look on your face when you took the sip must’ve been something because the look on Jason’s face was intense. “It’s good, you got my favourite brand,” a smile broke on his face, his shoulders dropping slightly, “Yeah, of course I did princess, wouldn't want to disappoint you,” he winked at the last word, and if you blushed, it was caused by the tea and shower, not by him. “I’m gonna shower, just yell for your prince charming and I’ll come running,” he joked before grabbing a towel from one of the boxes on the floor and heading into the bathroom.

He came out 10 minutes later, to see you already curled up on the left side of the bed, cup washed and put to dry. He also spotted the toothbrush on the table next to some toothpaste. Shaking his head slightly, he double checked the door before lying down next to you. He was still thinking about telling you, but if you were sleeping he didn’t want to wake you, or for you to wake up while he’s gone. “I can hear you thinking,” your voice rang like bells in his ears and he laughed slightly, “What?” you turned over, meeting his blue eyes, feeling them pierce straight through everything you were. A silence fell over the two of you, spell bound by a single moment in time that seemed to last forever.

“I really like you, like a fucking lot,” your mouth fell open at the words. Jason’s mouth closed rapidly after uttering the words, a bright red flush rising on his cheeks, clearly not knowing what to do in the situation. “I am so sor-” “I like you too,” now it was his turn to be surprised, having cut straight through his apology, your confession made him feel high. Before you could think, both you and Jason were laughing, faces filled with glee. After another few minutes you closed the distance between the two of you, pulling yourself in his neck so you could rest your forehead on his chest, his beat being a lullaby you’d missed despite not knowing it.

“When did you know?” he slowly threaded his fingers through your still damp hair, “Just now, realised that even when I’m overstimulated, I want you to comfort me. You?” You can hear the smile in his voice “I’ve always known, just didn’t know when to say it,” playfully you hit his chest, muttering out “dork” before closing your eyes. Kissing the top of your head, Jason too goes to sleep.

—

You wake up to the sound of the door opening, Jason making a quick move to hide you behind him as he pulls out his gun.

“Whoa, just me,” Dick says, waving a brown bag in the air, based on the smell you can tell it's some sort of pastry. Jason relaxes and puts down the gun, getting out of bed to prepare some breakfast. As you also get out of bed, you see Dick looking between you and his brother.

“He let you sleep on his bed? He always makes me sleep on the extra mattress” Dick groaned, “It hurts my back like crazy,” at the mention of a second mattress your eyes darted over to Jason, who seems to be very interested in the water cooker. Idiot.

Yeah he's an idiot, but he's your idiot

*I DO NOT ALLOW THE PLAGIARISM OF MY WORK, FOR IT TO BE USED IN AI OR FOR IT TO BE REPOSTED ELSEWHERE*

#flufftober 2024 #reader insert #jason todd #autistic reader #red hood #jason todd x reader #fluff #flufftober #flufftober day 17 #only one bed #getting together

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

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Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫: Teaser Drabble 🎃

Jungkook isn't used to doing things like this anymore. But maybe you can help him with that.

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, MC is way above the legal age!!), mature romance, major fluff, some angst, hints at past car accident, suggestive at the end

Length: short

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: this is a teaser drabble, set in the midst of the story. The exact spot in the timeline will be revealed at a later date.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"Oh thank you- how much do I owe you?" You wonder from the kitchenette you're standing in now after taking the pumpkin he'd bought, while he takes off his shoes, bringing in the other grocery bag he's brought with him to leave on the small plastic table in your kitchen.

He's still wearing is usual work attire, slacks a bit wrinkled from the entire day of wearing them, just like his button up, silver watch heavy on his wrist.

Did he remember to change the batteries in it? You want to ask him, remind him, but wouldn't that be a bit too annoying? Overbearing? You're not sure what exactly you are to him after all. Maybe he'll want to go home right away if you start nagging when he's not even fully entered your small apartment.

So you stay quiet.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." He reassures you as always, hands in his pockets as you turn around to curiously poke your head into the bag, hand digging through the plastic bags of candy. "This is for you too, by the way." He chuckles, watching you take one bag of sour gummy worms out to inspect further. "You mentioned you forgot to buy some."

"Jungkook no, you're spoiling me too much!" You laugh, before you want to cringe. Stop nagging, stop denying his acts of affection- you keep doing it, keep trying to tell him he doesn't have to do it even though you know he knows it himself. He knows way more about life and love than you.

Just let him be, your inner voice scolds you.

"That I do." He simply smiles however as he admits to it, sitting down at the kitchen table, leaning his head on his hand to watch you. He looks tired- you instantly notice things like that, and it worries you sometimes. He mentioned he never had a burnout before, but maybe he just didn't notice because he never sees a doctor for his issues? His headaches are probably still bad.

Just leave him be, your voice scolds you again.

"There's proper groceries in there too, by the way." Jungkook says with his eyes now closed, and you notice that too- beneath all the candy he's bought, there's general groceries as well- and you're a bit embarrassed by it.

You're living your life just fine. It's not as luxurious as his might be, but you've got food in the fridge and a roof over your head, and that's enough for you. But Jungkook has this urge you've come to learn- he feels less lonely when he can share or offer something.

"You know I don't like it when you only eat canned foods and such." He says, before his eyes open-

"Do you wanna go nap?" You wonder, and he simply makes an almost purring noise in denial, furrowing his brows. "I don't want you to go home like that though.." You complain, running your fingers through his hair, over his scalp.

because you're hugging him, or rather his stomach, leaning onto his lap- which is cute, yes, and the position would be arousing under different circumstances- but he instantly helps you up from the cold kitchen floor to sit properly on his thighs this time, head resting in the crook of your neck with a deep sigh, arms wrapped around you.

Your signature scent fills his mind, the warmth of your body begins to seep through the fabrics of clothing separating your skin, and from the way he's holding you he can even faintly hear your pulse beat.

He doesn't care that the plastic chair is uncomfortable as hell.

He melts. He feels like it, at least. You always make him feel like he's weightless.

"Do you want me to stay over?" He wonders softly, tries to flirt, and you giggle.

"But you wanted to carve the pumpkin." He argues softly, eyes open again as he pulls himself together. "Let's do that then." He offers.

"Sure." You shrug. "You're a bit clingy at night, but I'll manage." You tease, earning his hand smacking your butt in return, laughter interrupting the soft moment. You're a lot better at this than he is, and he's reminded of that every time he's with you like this.

Maybe he can ask you to spend Halloween at his house this year? You could decorate, have dinner with Namjoon and the others, give out candy to the neighborhood kids. He's always done that last part, but he's never actually decorated his house with Evelyn. She always complained that it was too much work to do-

And then she'd leave for her party with her friends, every year, leaving him alone with a glass of whiskey and a crappy horror movie running on cable TV.

He doesn't want that. No when he's got you now- someone who doesn't leave him alone.

"We can nap first, and then carve the pumpkin?" You wonder. "Or, if you don't have anything else tomorrow, we can do it then, and just go to bed early today." You shrug.

Jungkook sighs. You shouldn't have to adjust so much to him and his schedule and his lack of energy these days- and most days. You're young, you should have someone to party with, or go on trips and have fun, especially now with the holidays approaching- not go to bed barely after sunset because you're old 'boyfriend' is tired from work. He'll never understand why you do this so willingly.

But, he also wants to be selfish. He's tasted that sense of tranquility you're offering him, and he's hopelessly addicted at this point.

"I don't have any clothes here." He mumbles, sighing as he forces his brain to work again for the moment. "I can come back tomorrow instead, hm?" He wonders, but you look at him unconvinced.

And then he realizes it, in the way your fingers cling to his button up shirt, in the look you give him that's almost one of fear-

"Oh munchkin.." He sighs. "Alright, I'll call a cab then, okay?" He reassures you, remembering your fears when it comes to this whole issue of driving while tired. He still feels bad for it- he'll probably remember your absolutely devastated expression for the rest of his life- and will forever try and make up for the pain he caused you that night. "I won't drive like this, promise."

"Thank you." You say. "I'm sorry-" you start, but he shakes his head.

"None of that. I forgot the impact it had on you, so I should apologize." He tells you. "If we take a thirty-minute nap right now, I'll be up and ready to carve the pumpkin tonight, how does that sound?" He asks, and you nod.

"If that's what you wanna do." You accept, and he leans in to press a kiss right onto your cheek.

"Of course." He chuckles, helping you stand up before he stands as well, moving however to cage you in against the low kitchen counter, face so close to yours he's already got it angled perfectly to catch your lips in his next move. "But I think you'll need to tire me out a little before I can sleep well later."

"You're exhausted, old man, you'll sleep just fine." You giggle, and at that, he grips your hips, gaze having sharpened at the challenge you poke him with, another need now rising inside of him as he watches your fingers undo his tie- his own, larger hands taking over to just pull it off quicker, the dark grey item probably useful later.

"I'll show you an old man, you brat."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook fanfic

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shares-a-vest · 9 months ago

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@flufftober Spring Edition Day 2: Banter, Joking, Fun

wc: 650 | Rated: T | cw: None

Tags: Dad-Jokes, Steddie Dads, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson

‘Eddie Munson vs. Multi-Generational Penguin Jokes’

Eddie hums with relief as he pulls the lever on Steve’s recliner and eases himself back. A sense of relief washes over him, the pain in his lower back finally alleviating as he stretches out as far as the chair can go.

“Yes,” he hisses, closing his eyes as he palms around the side table for the latest copy of People, and readies himself for a quiet afternoon of reading.

Joanie is playing in her room and Steve is... well...

Doing something that doesn’t require hogging the squishy comfort of the recliner and allows Eddie the privacy of perusing a gossip rag free from teasing barbs.

He locates the magazine and opens his eyes, flicking to a story about Bruce Springsteen’s handsomeness and tight jeans. If he holds the magazine up to cover his face completely, he might even stay camouflaged enough that even the cats won’t bother him.

Eddie side-eyes the fridge, regretting not indulging in a cold one when his magazine knock-knocks towards him, the punched paper crinkling and warping despite his hands stiffening (and cramping) with a steel-like grip in a feeble attempt to save The Boss’s face.

He straightens up at a snail’s pace – enough to peer over the top of his magazine without completely giving up his comfort.

And sure enough, the magazine-crinkling, interrupting culprit is Joanie, smiling all too sweet in her sunshine yellow summer jumpsuit.

“Can I help you?” he asks, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Joanie tilts her head to the side, her sweet smile curling into something mischievous, her eyes glistening in a way that leaves Eddie shuddering at the thought he is in fact, looking in the goddamn mirror.

“Can I tell you a joke?” she says more than asks as she clasps her hands behind her back and rocks on her bare heels.

Her cheeks flush and yep – Eddie thinks he might know where this is going...

He leans on his elbow and cranes his neck to listen out for the person who surely put Joanie up to this, all the while keeping a close watch on his daughter. His eyes narrow as he catches a whispered chiding being directed at one of the cats, followed up with a shuffling that sure as hell sounds like Steve’s old man slippers scuffing on the floorboards.

“Fine,” he replies, settling back down to turn his full attention to the resident comedian, adding a huff for good measure.

Joanie grins, too pleased with herself and Eddie gulps. He won’t be able to keep up this uninterested ruse much longer if the little bean before him is going to continue looking that adorable.

“Ummm… Where do… penguins…” she begins, tearing her big eyes away as she musters up everything she can to recall the joke, twirling a lock of hair around her finger as she recites, “Where do penguins go to the movies?”

Eddie tosses the magazine aside to free himself up enough to fold his arms, desperate to stifle a whimper as he pea-brain takes him back to exactly where he had heard this one before.

“Wouldn’t have a clue,” he blurts out, lying.

“The dive-in!” Joanie beams, jumping with her arms wide open at the punchline.

She chuckles away through a toothy grin that quickly fades into a frown.

“Who told ya that one?” Eddie asks, knowing the answer.

Steve first told him this joke years ago, back in Hawkins when they first started kinda-sorta-not not dating and they went to the drive-in two towns over. Back when Eddie realised the Harrington Charm also involved many lame jokes that worked a little too well on him.

“No one,” she shrugs, turning to the hall.

They both look up to find Steve poking his head out from Joanie’s room.

“He didn’t laugh!” Joanie all but screams.

“What!” Steve replies in disbelief, stepping out into the open, “But that one’s a classic.”

#fluffspring2024 #day 2 #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie dads #steddie as girl-dads #okay back on a posting schedule for these now

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izvmimi · 2 years ago

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cw: apology smut. minors dni.

this is the first time you've let katsuki touch you since your last argument, and katsuki's breath hitches sharply in his throat when you don't automatically withdraw from him. it's sad honestly - it's just a simple brush of his hand against yours as he tries to grab the fridge handle, but the fact that you don't quickly shuffle away from him or give him an annoyed look carries a little too much hope for him.

it hasn't even been a long time since you've started giving him this silent treatment, but the man cannot last more than a couple hours, let alone a full day of you being cold to him. you have to admit it's immature to ignore him, but don't you have the right to be immature once in a while? after all, you endure a lot being married to him, enough that you've stayed off social media, and enough that this is the first time you've actually brought something up to him.

seeing katsuki smiling so widely, laughing with someone else, even if you do ultimately believe him that the relationship with the young, pretty up-and-comer is platonic and the apparent closeness is accentuated by the angle from which the photo was taken, you're still annoyed and made it clear so. after all, you don't appreciate looking like a fool.

he clears his throat and you don't turn to look at him, sitting down at the kitchen table and opening a book as you sip a glass of apple juice with no ice. bakugou pauses, hand sweatier than usual around his own glass of water, and watches you. contemplating. can he try again? will confronting you one more time only prolong this silence or will you cry and dig your heels in, risking a chance to lose you altogether?

he swallows hard, throat suddenly dry, but cannot bring the glass of water to his lips.

then you sigh and look up at him.

"katsuki."

katsuki moves almost too quickly to stand before you, anxiety laden in every step. your eyes slide to the chair next to you and he sits, knees turned in your direction, glass set down too quickly, enough that it wobbles but doesn't fall. ice clinks within and settles.

"yes... princess?"

you twist your mouth to the side but can't really form the words to apologize. after all, you aren't really the one who transgressed; rather it was katsuki not being careful enough to make sure certain pictures didn't run the chance of upsetting you. you're still not sure how that particular magazine made its way on your very doorstep but here you were.

"do you love me?" you ask, firmly.

"so much." he insists. his hands find one of yours and covers them. his eyes are pleading for you to forgive him, the fire of defensive anger no longer behind them. katsuki doesn't yell at you when he's angry but his voice raises. he fights with his words and his fists clench. instead today he holds your hand carefully. he's not a threat and will never be, but he wants you to know that especially today.

you sigh.

"you need a better pr team," you say. katsuki squeezes your hand, lips pulling into a tentative smile.

"i'll fire everyone."

you give him a look, then giggle. "that's not exactly what i asked."

"i know, but it's an option." he brings your hand up to his lips to kiss the back, and you smile.

your husband is yours, no matter what the media may suggest is a more compatible new flame, and he sets out to make sure you know that. you are the only one for him.

so in tune with your shifting emotions, the moment your eyes flicker to his lips, filled with longing, he's kissing you. the act of your mouths connecting turn into a natural acceptance of your tongue, and then the pull of your body, still in last night's pajamas, into his lap. your arms wrap around his shoulders, and you kiss him more, even deeper; he sucks at every part of you, hands finding their way up your shirt, then unbuttoning them until your breasts are bare, pressed against his chest. he lets you disrobe his torso, until you are skin to skin, and the rays of the sun seeping through the kitchen blinds form patterns on your exposed bodies. your hearts pound, and you breathe against each other, rutting against fabric, then your soft parts. you let him slip inside you, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he groans and let you clench around him. the rock of your bodies moving against each other is slow and deep, then fast and desperate until you're clinging to his shoulders and you're crying out his name, trembling.

he carries you to the bedroom still connected, and he recommences until your legs shake and he's whispering his vows again to you into your bosom.

you are the only one for him, and he hopes you'll always have him.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou smut #thoughts: bakugou #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes

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idyllic-ghost · 9 months ago

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Hi Bee! I've been thinking about Jeonghan too much recently- and then I read your Minghao getting sick with reader fic and I just... Tell me Jeonghan wouldn't be wo whiny while being sick😭 Could you write something about Jeonghan being sick and making a big fuzz about reader needing to take care of him?

Can't wait for the Mingyu fic!💜

title: sick-day soup pairing: jeonghan x reader genre: fluff warnings: discussions of sickness (cold), mentions of food wordcount: 1.7k taglist:@enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag

a/n: this was so nice to write!!

join my taglist

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send a request in my inbox!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The buzzing of your phone on your nightstand woke you up. It was pitch dark except for the blue light from the device - lighting up a small space around it. With an annoyed sigh, you picked it up and looked at the caller ID. Hannie. A name that you so lovingly called out every time you got to see him. A name that you now wanted to curse. You had barely heard from him all day and had the gall to call you at two in the morning. Hesitating for just a second, you eventually picked up - hoping for his sake that it was just a butt dial.

"What?" you croaked.

"Baby..." Jeonghan whined, his voice was hoarse. "I know it's late, I'm sorry... but can you come over?"

"I'm not going to come over at two in the morning to have sex with you." You groaned and put your arm over your eyes as if you could shield yourself from the rest of the world that way.

"Y/N, I'm sick." He coughed to emphasize his words. "I need your help."

"My help? How?"

"Soup..."

You guffawed, sitting up in your bed. Even when he annoyed you, Jeonghan could still make you smile. It somehow made you even more annoyed.

"You want me to make you soup?"

"I have the ingredients, just not the energy." He cleared his throat. "I know I've barely talked to you all day, and I'm sorry... I woke up with this awful cold, I've barely been out of bed all day."

You couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Putting your head in your hand that wasn't holding your phone to your ear, you sighed. Were you about to give in to him once again? Yes.

"I'll be over in a few minutes..."

Unlocking the door with the key Jeonghan had given you some time ago, you walked into the dark apartment. The only light was coming from the kitchen, where a cloaked figure was sitting on one of the chairs by the small dining table. When you closed the door, the sound of the click made the figure turn towards you. Under the dark blanket, Jeonghan's face stuck out. Even from the low light from the ceiling lamp, you could see that he looked sick. In the time it had taken you to kick off your shoes and take off your jacket, Jeonghan had approached you. With the blanket still over his arms, he engulfed you in a hug - wrapping you up in the blanket as well.

"Thank you for coming," he mumbled into your ear.

"You owe me," you hummed as you patted his back.

"I know." Jeonghan pulled away from you.

"So, what kind of soup have you been trying to make?" You walked around him to get to his kitchen, Jeonghan staying close behind you.

"Just chicken and veggie soup," he said. "I had all the things for it in my fridge, but-"

"No energy." You nodded.

Jeonghan had pulled out a few things from his fridge; vegetables, chicken, and broth. You pulled up your sleeves and went over to the sink to wash your hands. While you were turning the nozzles on, Jeonghan came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your mid-section.

"Thank you, baby." He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

"Just go rest, Hannie," you muttered. "I'll bring you a bowl when it's ready."

Despite your command, Jeonghan stayed. You didn't tell him to leave, he had made his choice, but as you kept working you found that you didn't mind. Sometimes he stood in a corner, giving you space to cook the chicken and chop the vegetables. However, when you were simply stirring the soup he came up to you. Just like before, he wrapped his arms around your mid-section and buried his head in the crook of your neck.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" you asked.

"I didn't want to bother you," he murmured.

"Asking for help isn't a bother," you said, "unless it's two in the morning, then it's a little different."

"... I'm sorry."

You turned your head over your shoulder, looking at your sick boyfriend with a frown. Usually, he'd joke with you - competing over who could be more sarcastic - but now he was apologetic. He must have been more sick than you thought.

"Hannie, I'm joking," you deadpanned.

"Oh..." He cleared his throat. "You can't joke with me like that when I'm sick. My brain isn't working well."

You scoffed at his whining, going back to stirring the soup until the noodles had softened. Getting loose from his grip, you walked over to his cabinets and got out two bowls. Jeonghan went over to sit by the dining table, and you followed him to put the bowls there. You went back and forth between the table and the cabinets, setting everything up to have a nice meal. Once everything was done, you brought over the pot. Jeonghan clapped his hands slowly under his blanket, his eyes fixated on the soup.

"You really wanted soup, huh?" You picked up his bowl and poured some soup into it with a ladle.

"I've been surviving on whatever leftovers I had in the fridge, and a few ice creams," he explained. "And that's only when I felt like actually getting out of bed."

"Jeonghan..." You sighed. "You really should have called me. I would've helped."

He played around with the spoon in his bowl before bringing the hot soup up to his lips. Hissing at the burn against his lips, he quickly put the spoon down.

"Blow on it first," you warned.

Jeonghan pouted, picking up the spoon again and holding it with the handle towards you - silently asking you to take it. With a sigh, you sat down. You couldn't resist his pout. After pulling the chair closer to him, you take the spoon from his hand and put the spoon in the soup. Sinking the spoon under the surface of the liquid, you watched as it quickly filled up the small surface. You brought the spoon to your lips and blew on it slowly.

"Say 'ahh'," you told him.

He did as you said, opening his mouth until you had put the spoon in. An approving hum came from behind his closed lips as he closed his eyes. You put down his spoon again. When you tried to fill up your own bowl, Jeonghan tapped your shoulder.

"What?" you asked.

He pointed at his open mouth again, and you rolled your eyes... yet still picked up his spoon for a second time. This went on for some time. You eventually got soup in your own bowl and went in between feeding him and feeding yourself.

After cleaning up, and leaving the dishes in the sink for you to take care of in the morning, the two of you went into the bathroom. In silence, you brushed your teeth. Jeonghan had gotten you another toothbrush to keep at his place. He had gotten it without you asking - surprising you with it when you used the lack of a toothbrush to end your stay. He always had something up his sleeve, which you'd usually call annoying but in truth you liked that about him. It was exciting to never know what he might pull. Seeing him like this, dull with big bags under his eyes, was heart-wrenching.

The blanket was still wrapped around him. Although, now it had fallen on his shoulder and you could see the mess of his hair. With his hair getting longer, it needed proper taking care of. Opening one of the cabinets, you quickly found his hairbrush. You beckoned him over, making him crouch down a little. Jeonghan let out a giggle as you began brushing his hair - starting at the ends and working your way up to the crown of his head. It wasn't a difficult task, seeing as Jeonghan kept still. While brushing his hair, you noticed how cold he was despite the sweat on his neck.

"You're really sick, aren't you?" you muttered. "... do you want me to draw you a bath?"

"I could really get used to your pampering..."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

While Jeonghan was in his bath, you went into the bedroom to change his sheets. From time to time, Jeonghan would whine and you'd come into the bathroom to help him with something; helping him wash his back, bringing him a glass of water, and anything else that he needed. Eventually, you brought him in a change of clothes and brought him new towels to dry off with. As soon as he was out of the bathroom, you got him into the newly made bed. You pulled the covers over him and sat down next to him, putting your hand on his forehead.

"Still warm," you mumbled and tried to remove your hand, but Jeonghan started whining.

"It's nice," he murmured. "Your hand is cold."

"I could get you something to put on your forehead if-"

"No, this is good," he assured you.

"Hannie." You sighed. "I have to leave sometime."

Jeonghan looked up at you with eyes that could kill. That you would even dare suggest that you'd leave him in this condition! The gall!

"You need rest. I'm just going to sleep on your couch, I'll be with you in the morning," you explained, but he still didn't look happy.

"Sleep here." He patted on the spot next to him.

"I can't-"

"What if I need your help in the middle of the night?"

"You won't-"

"What if I have a fever-induced nightmare?"

"Jeonghan-"

"Just stay."

"... what if I get sick?" you questioned. "We can't both be sick."

"I'll be better by then. Then I can take care of you," he said matter-of-fact.

With a big sigh, you walked around the bed and got in next to him. He snuggled up against you, putting his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. The smell of his shampoo caused all of your muscles to relax.

"Thank you for coming over." Jeonghan yawned. "And for making me soup."

You hummed in response, as you began playing with his hair. The two of you stayed like that until you could hear Jeonghan's soft snores. After that, you could comfortably fall asleep.

The next morning you woke up with a sore throat and unwavering defiance towards doing the dishes. However, seeing as Jeonghan had started feeling a little better, the two of you got through it together... and then, just as you had expected, it was time for him to play nurse.

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