#a lot of tags but i needed to complain about this situation

[itsraceweekbitches]

BRAT TAMING

summary: Charles has a bad day, but you know how to handle it. ✤ pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader ✤ wc: 0.8k ✤ tags: fem!reader, race engineer!reader

It’s easy to see that something is different today. Charles arrives wearing a hoodie, hiding from the outside world and staying in his comfortable little bubble for most of the day. When he has to change into his Ferrari shirt, he suddenly looks almost fragile, uncertain, yet he does his best to act like everything is fine. 

It’s a little concerning, but you decide not to press him to open up about whatever is going on with him. He knows that if he wants to talk, you’re always there to listen. You like to believe that you’re not only his race engineer, but also a good friend, at least the fact he often invites you to parties or to visit him in Monaco tells you exactly that. 

But when he gets in the car during FP1, you realize that he’s annoyed, snappy even, so you just keep taking deep breaths and flashing everything’s fine smiles at Fred when he looks at you with raised eyebrows. It’s only during sprint qualifying that you realize just how bad the situation is.

Charles is complaining. A lot. The car, the other drivers, the track’s condition–really, everything seems to be a problem. At one point, you snap at him, telling him to suck it up and focus on driving, which works like charm, because the Monegasque falls silent for a minute or so before speaking up again. What he was probably saying under the helmet without pushing the radio button is a mystery, though. 

“What’s your problem? Why are you so mean?” he asks innocently, as if he hasn’t been acting like an annoying idiot all day. 

Rolling your eyes, you glance over at the others before saying, “Maybe I’m taking GP’s Handling brats 101 class.” There’s silence on the radio, and you can feel your colleagues’ eyes on you, which makes you turn to them. “What?”

They shake their heads, deciding not to comment on this sentence, although you all know this will be shown to the fans and viewers. Well, at least they’ll have a laugh. Hopefully. Damn it, maybe that was a mistake, you think as you bury your face into your palm. 

And then, out of nowhere, Charles speaks up. “How bad am I today?” he wonders, and you know exactly what he wants to know. 

“Max in Hungary last year,” you reply.

“Fuck.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop the laugh that wants to erupt, and you eventually manage to talk without your voice giving away what you wish to do right now. “Language,” you warn him kindly.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

Not long after this conversation, the sprint qualifying ends with Charles in P4, which isn’t as bad as it looks. If anyone, he can move forward, although you all know there are a lot more factors that need to be considered. Factors like strategy and the car itself.

You wait for him in the garage, smiling to yourself as you listen to a piece of Red Bull radio conversation, and you honestly can’t wait to tell your favorite driver about it. Social media is of course full of memes already, but you truly hope he hasn’t heard about it yet, because you want to see his face when you tell him.

But you have no luck, he returns from his media duties looking exhausted, but otherwise surprisingly giddy. When he stops in front of you, biting his lower lip so he wouldn’t burst out laughing, you already know it’s a lost battle. You’re in this mess together, and he’s right, laughing is the only thing you can do at this point.

“Max came over in the media pen and said, ‘Welcome to the dark side.’ I’ll never hear the end of it,” he tells you through a giggle. “And my chronically online little brother took the time to bombard me with memes about this whole conversation, including even the one between Max and GP later on.”

You watch him for a while in silence, but then you signal him to follow you, and as you walk to the back of the garage, you begin to talk. “GP messaged me, he’s willing to give me lessons,” you tell him with a laugh. 

Suddenly, Charles grabs your wrist and pushes you against the wall, leaning close enough so his lips can brush yours. “By the way,” he begins with a playful smile, “calling me a brat is a… unique way to tell me you love me.”

You flash a wicked smile at him. “Who said that’s what I meant?” 

He lets out a laugh. “I know you,” he informs you before kissing you softly, taking his time with you despite the risk of the possibility of someone walking in on you. 

[thebarrows]

put them in a room together and no one will come out alive (●'◡'●)

[moe-broey]

Back to what I do best (bare minimum Putting My Guys In Situations shitposts) 😌

Inspo under cut!!!

[minghaoes]

pouty cuddles [drabble]

mingyu comes home after a day of filming gose and everyone's been meaner to him than usually. what else could he need than being in your arms and dramatically complain about his members, who he loves dearly?

TAGS: kim mingyu x gn!reader, fluff, established relationship, the members are mean to mingyu but he's handling it like a champ (he isn't)

WORD COUNT: 800 words

a/n: my first seventeen fic !! i haven't written fanfics in a minute and i'm a bit rusty so it's shorter than what i will post in the future, but i hope that y'all will enjoy it nevertheless :) please let me know what you think and happy reading !!

Mingyu was pouting. His lower lip was slightly puffed, his cheeks looked a little rounder than they usually did, and his eyes, his eyes were big and brown as they looked right into yours. His head was resting on your chest close to your chin, and Mingyu could not stop staring at your face. His arms were wrapped around your waist, and he seemed comically small in that moment. 

Your left hand softly caressed the warm skin on his back, as the fingers on your right slowly played with his curls. Mingyu sighed quietly and leaned into your touch, not before exaggerating his pout just a little bit more. It was enough to make you coo at him and press a butterfly kiss on the tip of his nose.

“They were mean to me,” Mingyu said, the pout ever so evident in his voice. You suppressed a laugh and indulged in his behaviour. “Who was mean to you, baby?”

Mingyu closed his eyes at the pet name and pressed his body even closer to yours. His body felt heavy on yours, but still comfortable. The warmth radiating from his body was enough to keep you warm, to keep you happy. 

“The members,” he mumbled, and shuffled a bit further up. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he complained: “They said I’m always scared.”

It took you a lot of self restraint to not start laughing. Granted, Mingyu had not been telling you what today’s episode was about, but considering you know how your boyfriend behaved in certain situations, the members’ statement was not that far off from the truth. Yet, the pout on Mingyu’s face was enough to have you reconsider agreeing with them, even playfully. Instead, you opted for lightly scratching his head and pressing a kiss on top of his hair. “My poor baby.”

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu nodded. His lips grazed the skin of your neck and you smiled, hugging him closer to your chest. In response, Mingyu hummed and kissed the same spot softly. He kept kissing you over and over again, until he started speaking again.

“I’m not actually mad at them,” he confessed, and you hummed, “Who would have thought.”

“HOWEVER,” he interrupted you sassily, another pout already forming on his plush lips, “I’m not scared of everything.”

You smiled at him, but Mingyu only furrowed his eyebrows. Your right hand wandered further down from his hair to his forehead, to massage the worry line gently. 

“I’m not scared of being with you,” Mingyu confessed quietly. His eyes flickered back down, feeling less confident now that you reciprocated his gaze. “I’m not scared of committing to you. To give myself to you.”

It was your turn to furrow your eyebrows now. You tried to sit up straight, but Mingyu would not let you. Instead, you opted for hugging him with both of your arms around his neck. 

“Where’s that coming from, darling?”

Mingyu whined and put his head back into place right in the crease of your neck, right on top of your shoulder. 

“Just been thinking ‘bout marriage a lot lately, that’s all,” he replied casually, not knowing that the simple words made your heart beat just a little bit faster than it already did. 

“Yeah?” you replied breathlessly, trying your best to maintain your breathing. Mingyu nodded again, sounding a bit more insecure this time. “If that’s what you’re considering too. No pressure if you’re not interested. I mean, I would be hurt by it, but I respect any decision you might mak-” 

Giggling, you pulled Mingyu’s head up to press a kiss on his lips. Your hand was holding his cheek and caressing the soft skin below your fingertips. In turn, Mingyu’s eyes returned to your face, the same big and brown eyes you had grown to love. The pout was evident on his lips again, and in response, you kissed him over and over again, until the lovesick frown returned to his brows, his eyes softer than you have ever seen them.

“Of course I’ve been thinking about it too,” you admitted, pressing another kiss on the tip of his nose. Mingyu turned his head upwards, trying to catch your lips with his. He whined when you pulled away, his lips returning to his natural pout. 

“Baby,” he said, his eyes switching back and forth between your eyes and your lips, “that’s unfair. I’m still sad. Why are all of you always mean to me?”

You cooed and littered his entire face with kisses. Mingyu giggled at your antics and sighed contentedly. For now, you did not have to know that his members had been nagging him about proposing to you. The box he was hiding in his sock drawer was also completely unrelated to his theatrics. 

[eightmakesonebraincell]

and if it stops snowing? then count the stars in the sky (teaser)

genre: poly doctors!ateez x doctor fem!reader, hospital romance, established relationship, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 1.6k (teaser) + approx. 37k (full fic)

c/w: slightly aged-up characters, slow burn except it's burning in reverse, lots of medical themes, remaining tags to be revealed with full fic

synopsis: after transferring during the last year of your residency program, you work alongside your eight boyfriends at kq hospital. it becomes harder to keep your relationship the same as it used to be as you all navigate the respective challenges of being doctors and nurses. you come to experience love and loss in both warmth and coldness, but only one of them will keep your relationship alive.

a/n: not my titles becoming increasingly longer with each oneshot i write 💀 but this is probably my fave one yet and i hope it slaps when the full fic drops

your feet drag against the floor as you trudge listlessly back to your locker, body heavy as if you are caught in the very midst of a snowstorm. your shoulders cave even further in on themselves when you check your phone to see no reply from hongjoong.

you want nothing more than to bury yourself in your boyfriend’s arms, nose pressed against the soothing rumble of his chest as he listens to you complain about your day. it will not change anything about the situation with dr. lim and dr. nam but at least you will be able to release the hot steam that has built up from the bubbling pit of lava in your chest.

if hongjoong is still working, perhaps you can sit in his office and wait on his couch. his presence will be enough to keep you grounded.

some of the nurses in the neurology ward greet you cordially as you exit the elevator and you return their smile before sitting on a bench further down the corridor to avoid being in anybody’s way. you test your chances and call hongjoong’s number, only to hear the line ring until it sends you to his voicemail. when another attempt ten minutes later yields the same result, you send a text telling him to call you when he is finished.

you resign yourself to the bench with a passive sigh and wait, all the while a tempest swirling inside of you. eventually, one of the junior residents tilts her head at the sight of you still sitting on the bench, having passed by you almost twenty minutes ago in the same position. she calls out, “doctor l/n?”

you jerk up from where you are fiddling with your phone. recognising her as hongjoong’s colleague, you ask, “i’m just waiting for doctor kim. do you happen to know where he is?”

“doctor kim?” she furrows her brows, “he left already. he actually left early today.”

“oh.”

the heat in your chest suddenly dissipates, immediately replaced by a frigid hollowness that makes your mind go blank instead. horrified, you feel your eyes involuntarily start to prickle with tears no matter how hard you will for them to disappear.

“do you want me to pass a message on for you?” the resident looks at you with a twinge of concern, but mostly curiosity.

you shake your head and mumble, “no, that’s okay, thanks,” then rush away to avoid embarrassing yourself any further. deciding against asking one of your other boyfriends to drive you home, you forgo catching the bus too in favour of walking through the streets.

it’s not even a big deal. we’ve all forgotten about dates before and hongjoong would never deliberately blow you off.

you know that. you know this is not something you need to be upset over and you know that your boyfriend must have a reason. yet knowing does nothing to stop the trembling of your lips as you swipe furiously at your dripping tears with the back of your hand. on top of everything that has piled up today, hongjoong forgetting about your date is enough to topple it over completely.

the light snowfall from earlier has already stopped but the temperature remains just as low. as you tread through the chalky streets home, thoughts creeping through your mind like the fractal branches of a snowflake–fragile and delicate–you welcome the numbing chill around you instead and let it paralyse your emotions like an anaesthetic.

by the time you reach the front door, you have collected yourself enough. the rims of your eyes and the tip of your nose still have a slight redness to them but your appearance can easily be dismissed by the biting cold outside. you unlock the door and walk in.

you are met with immediate warmth; from the residual heat of shared dinner, from the streaming glow of lights, from the peals of low laughter. walking through the corridor almost feels like walking through a warped tunnel of dissociation–so familiar yet so foreign at the same time.

san sits on the couch, languidly scrolling on his phone with an arm wrapped around yeosang’s shoulders, who is flicking through a thin booklet of paper. sitting cross-legged at the coffee table in front of them in a stark contrast of mess is hongjoong–hongjoong who is hunched over his own booklet with a newly-made carpet and tablecloth of thesis and journal articles, textbooks and tablets.

you are so caught up by the hurricane of a scene that you do not realise you are about to step on the corner of a textbook until hongjoong’s head snaps up to look at you.

“be careful!” his warning cry is sharp with alarm.

your body jolts and you step backwards. “sorry.”

despite san and yeosang’s chirpy greetings, you remain frozen to the spot. the two of them clamber up to pull you into an excited hug, only to pause when they realise there is no way to navigate the landmine of paper scattered around the room, so they settle back into the cushions instead.

“don’t mind the mess,” yeosang giggles, unaware of the sudden onset of unease that courses through your body. “even seonghwa has given the okay for him to do this.”

your words come out thick and sticky as you ask, “what is hongjoong doing?”

san’s voice is sympathetic, “there was a last-minute change to his presentation that he’s doing at that annual neurological association meeting. his department head wants him to do a different topic.”

“he could’ve told me, i don’t know, five fucking months ago,” hongjoong curses fiercely at his tablet, “but he just had to wait until my presentation was basically done to let me know.”

you have had a bad day…but so has hongjoong.

the door opens behind you. fumbling for a moment, you try to make yourself smaller against the wall to make room for whoever of your boyfriends has returned. it is mingi back from his shift which tells you just how long you had waited for hongjoong, considering mingi’s shift ended almost two hours after yours did.

“y/n?” mingi’s eyes widen slightly as he smiles, the sight of you a pleasant surprise. he asks, “did you and hongjoong come back from your date already?”

you wince at the bomb he has unwittingly dropped; the very one you yourself were still unsure how to navigate.

“shit,” hongjoong’s head snaps towards you again but for an entirely different reason this time. “holy fuck. oh my fucking god.” his hands flutter as he upturns the scattered notes around him in search of his phone, face draining of all colour as it dawns on him he had silenced his notifications. “the date–i forgot. fuck, i am so fucking sorry, y/n.”

your boyfriends on the couch watch with darting eyes and mingi glances at you cautiously. in some twisted reality, you almost feel immobilised by guilt as hongjoong stumbles to his feet, grasping the phone he has finally found from where it had been tossed under the table.

nothing changes the fact that he forgot nor the fact that you have had a rough day. but just as you had realised, hongjoong has also had a rough day, if not worse than yours. and as with any relationship, one will always have to yield under pressure lest both people break.

swallowing thickly, you manage to force out, “that’s okay. i forgot too.”

a white lie, but a white lie has never hurt anybody.

mingi catches the slight twist of your fingers in the side of your jacket. he murmurs, “let’s go inside,” then tugs you by the elbow. he steps you carefully through the landmines further into the living room, gingerly toeing papers inches aside to reveal the floorboards underneath for the both of you to step on. hongjoong is still looking at you remorsefully as you near, his hands itching to reach out but afraid they will not be met with forgiving ones.

“it’s okay, joong, really,” you extend your fingers in his direction and gently squeeze his hand. “sorry to hear about your presentation. i know how hard you’ve worked on it the past few months.”

sadness still lingers in your boyfriend’s eyes at having made such a careless mistake despite the grateful smile he gives you. “i’ll make it up to you after the presentation is finished,” he vows. “i’ll take you out for a nice dinner and i promise i won’t forget this time.”

you chuckle softly with a reassuring nod, “okay.”

“what about you? how was your day?” hongjoong asks.

an hour ago you wanted nothing more than the comfort he could offer while you vented about your day and you are almost certain fatigue and frustration are smeared across your face right now. yet you simply answer, “it was a long day but it was good.”

another white lie.

before your boyfriends can probe any further, you state, “i’m going to take a shower first. might head to sleep early today.” you lean forward to give hongjoong a chaste kiss, who easily relaxes into it with relief. you turn to rise onto your tiptoes to give mingi one too before meeting yeosang and san halfway from where they kneel on the couch to also kiss you goodnight.

then you turn and retreat to your room. it is not all too bad, you reconcile with yourself. alone time would be good after today’s events.

a third white lie.

but again, that is fine, because a white lie never hurt anybody…nobody except for yourself.

taglist pt. one | apply | comment to be tagged for this fic only

@thecarnivaloflies @ilovekimhongjoong @ifykyunho @ppprimary @hwas-housewife 

@itza-meee @lavishloving @okshu @mizumigi @everythingboutkpop

@ayytease @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hongjoongsprincess @booyoungie @green-agent

@darkmentalitystarfish-blog @taytayy178 @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi

@mimilia1801 @kibs-and-bits @mlysalt @jjoongstar @aaa-sia

@nollamuumialaaksossa @skz1-4-3 @minkilicious @joongscheese @ddeonghwva

@delulu18 @teenyfinds @shakalakaboomboo @hxpelesscxven @fureastel

@seomisaho @levishun @lesyeuxdeanna @readerofallthingss @potatos-on-clouds

@apriecotte @hhoneylix @kyeos4ng @smally97 @savluvsmingi

[laambfuzz]

—- first meetings. ft schlatt & ted nivison.

summary: whether it's because you accidentally downloaded malware onto your new computer, or because your assistance is needed in the cinematography class— you meet two cute students throughout the process, and you are not complaining.

— tags: college!au, comp sci student!schlatt, cinema student! ted, art student!reader (in ted's section anyways, it's left vague in schlatt's), headcanons, meet-cute, twink schlatt & twink ted.

authors note: hi! sorry writing has been slow, we should be back now though!! i'm excited to delve into college au because i feel like there's a lot to explore with it. this is just the first meeting, but i'm already working on some general hc's! send me some asks about either of them and i'll answer them/elaborate for you!! ♡ ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

—- schlatt - computer science student .ᐟ

— the first time you meet schlatt is when you're having tech troubles with your new computer. all solutions online failed to work, and when an acquaintance told you about the school's IT support group, you decided that'd be the best bet. — you weren't really the type to go out and socialise, you'd rather stay indoors and try to do things yourself. but this was a new computer, so you broke your rule this one time. — upon entering, you were met with the sight of a bunch of other students. some were working there, some were there for help. the fact others were there helped put your mind at ease a little. — you looked around to try and find someone who was free. you panicked when you skimmed round and saw nobody available, but after you took your time looking, your eyes landed on someone. — he had a lanky figure, face tucked into his computer, as if he were trying to.. hide? you were confused considering this was all volunteer work, but you really didn't care. you just wanted your computer fixed.

— you waddled over to his booth, holding your laptop at your chest. he was still in the same position as before, so you coughed to grab his attention. — he moved back slightly, peering up at you with his brown eyes, which were a little wide. "oh— oh, hi. i wasn't expecting anyone to see me," he muttered, which caused a small giggle to erupt from you. — "sorry, if i wasn't so worried i probably wouldn't have even saw you," you smiled softly at him, before sitting on the seat in front of him. — "ah, well. this is my job, so i can't complain. how can i help you?" he asked, hands closed together as he returned your smile, and you felt your heart skip a beat. — you explained the situation to him, how you didn't know why files were randomly deleting, or why these pop-up's were appearing, and that you'd already tried everything google and reddit threw at you. — he let's out a hum, and asks to have access to your computer. after putting in your user and password, you turn it round to him so he can inspect it. — "jesus christ— there's like.. a hundred of these things!" the boy exclaims as his wide-eyed expression returns, before he tries shutting them down one by one. — he looks through your files, trying to spot anything suspicious from first glance. it's mainly a bunch of images, with a few .exe files from apps you downloaded. — "for fuck sake, how many times is this gonna—" he starts muttering under his breath about the constant pop-up's, but suddenly a siren starts playing from the computer, causing you both to jump. — he immediately holds down the 'volume down' button, looking around to make sure too many people didn't hear. you both got a few looks, but thankfully nothing major. — when he looks back to the computer, there's a neon red pop-up that's taken over the screen, announcing "YOU HAVE 7348 VIRUSES", which causes him to burst into laughter. — "what a stupid fuckin' pop-up," he grumbles, still smirking. he turns his attention back to you though, raising a brow. "you said this is a brand new computer, right? you sure you didn't buy this off a fuckin' scammer?" — you shake your head vigorously at him, "no! i got it from that one store 10 minutes from here, the one everyone says to go to," you explain, eyes closed as you try to think of the name. you didn't know why he made you feel so nervous, but you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of him. at least, not anymore than you already have.— "hm, right. and everything you've installed has been legit? straight from the app store or the site's download section?" he double-checks, and you flash him a nervous smile.

— "weeeelllll," you drag out, wincing when he deadpans at you. "i wasn't paying for the adobe software! that shit is a scam and you of all people should know that," you huff, folding your arms and pouting. — he sighs but laughs lightly, running his hand through his hair. "well there's the root of the issue. downloading a cracked copy that isn't even safe," he murmurs, but assures you he can fix it. " — you scoot your chair round a little so you can see what the boy does, in case you ever get yourself into a situation like this again.. even though you know damn well you'd come back here, anyways. — you watch as he goes full IT mode— deep cleaning your system, manually removing the malware, while muttering how he "doesn't understand how some people have no fuckin' tech literacy," as you roll your eyes. — "i do, thank you very much! adobe apps are just.. harder to pirate," you murmur quietly, looking off to the side. he just laughs at your silent admission, continuing to clean up your computer. — it doesn't go unnoticed how much he keeps looking at you while he's fixing up the computer, and you're pretty sure your reddening cheeks haven't gone unnoticed by him, either. — it took some time, but eventually he slides the computer to you as he stretches back in his chair, arms rising in the air as he cracks his bones. "alright, virus bait. that's your computer all fixed," he grins, and you ignore the nickname as your eyes land on your computer. — you look properly at the screen and wow, it's so nice to look at it without being bombarded with pop-ups or scam messages, and it's even nicer to hear your computer isn't about to take off into space any minute. — you jump off the chair with joy, clapping your hands together excitedly as you shut the screen over and hug the laptop to your chest. "god, this feels great! thank you.." you start, before trailing off when you realise you don't even know his name. — you turn to see him already smiling up at you, as he's sat back up in his normal position with his arms crossed. "johnathan," he confirms, and you smile at him back with a small nod. — "thank you, jonathan!" you repeat with his name this time, before you sigh in relief. "i really owe you one, seriously," you admit, pondering as you think of how you can return the favour. — you're interrupted however as your phone buzzes repeatedly, reminding you that you had a zoom call to catch in five minutes. you let out a small "fuck!" before pushing the chair back to it's original spot, and running round the table to the exit. — "sorry— i gotta go! i'll make it up to you sometime— bye johnathan!" you exclaim as you run out the room. — he smiles softly as you run, muttering a small "see ya, virus bait," under his breath, watching your figure until you're out of sight before shaking his head and putting his focus back onto his own computer.

—- ted - cinematography student .ᐟ

— it's too late to be in the art campus building— it's 12am, to be precise. you would never come here this late, ever. you're only here because you were only just told you needed an extra A3 painting for your assignment that was due in a few days.

— so that's why you're here, and weirdly.. you're not alone? there was another guy here, slumped over his computer as he edited what you could only assume to be a short-film.

— the atmosphere was.. fine. it wasn't cozy, but it wasn't awkward. the radio played lowly in the background, but the noise mainly came from the other guy's computer, constantly replaying the same scene over and over.

— you had a perfect view of the computer, your easel was a couple desks behind him, so you could paint and watch whatever he was working on, if you so desired. — and you did, and it was fun.. the first 20 times you had seen it. the other 35? not so much. — you had tried focusing more on your own painting, but were quickly drawn back to the previous spot when you heard a loud groan erupt from the guy's throat. — "if i have to watch this scene one more fucking time, you're going out the window," he muttered angrily, jabbing a finger at the computer screen, as if it was at fault. — you peered at the content on the screen and.. yikes, you didn't realise just how bad the colour grading was until now. you placed your brush down, before taking a step forward. — "..your colour grading is awful," you tell him, watching as he throws his arm around the back of his chair while looking at you with a face of disbelief. maybe you could've worded it nicer.. — "oh, i'm sorry da vinci, i didn't realise— wait, you know colour grading?" he started off with a snarky comment, but when the words clicked he suddenly got curious. — you give him a curt nod before moving closer, grabbing a chair from the desk next to him and pulling it over. "the highlights are blown out, your shadows are crushed and your white balance is all over the place," you tell him, turning to see his jaw dropping. how the fuck did you pick apart the flaws in an instant? — "holy shit," he murmurs in disbelief, running a hand up and down his face. "am i that tired i didn't realise how shit it was?" — you laugh at his words, shaking your head. "no, no. i get it. may i?" you ask, gesturing towards the computer. he nods in return, hand waving in the air. "as you please." — he watches, still a little sceptical at first, but then you tweak the levels and.. the scene actually looks good. — "christ," he whispers, leaning in to watch the scene once more, "that's way better." — "duh," you grin, and he shoots you a playful glare in return. — not long after he buys you something from the vending machine down the hall, as a repayment for you helping him out. — you both continue to work on your respective projects, while occasionally throwing sarcastic comments at each other. — "why are you glaring at your painting like it owes you money?" "because it does," "fair." — you both decide to call it a night when it hits 3am, because you don't dwant to be here all night, not after you already spend the full day here anyways. — "i don't trust you walking back to your dorm alone, especially with the reports lately," he says as he grabs his rucksack, throwing it over his shoulder. — "oh? and i should trust you?" "im 6'4, sweetheart. im the threat's threat," he winks, and you hate that it makes you giggle. — you let him walk you to your dorm, both of you making small talk n the way, but ultimately you were both too tired to keep a real chat going. — when you get to your dorm, you turn round and flash him a small smile. "thank you for walking me back.." you begin to thank him, but falter when you realise you didn't catch his name. — "really? you didn't see my name plastered over the film?" he laughs, and you join him. "names ted, though," he lets you know, and you nod and give him your name. — "it's no problem, and thank you for y'know.. fixing my shitty colour grading," he smiles, and you nod in return. — "yeah, well, da vinci has a few tricks," you tease, bringing back the nickname from earlier that he called you after he offended him, and you didn't miss how his face lit up when he realised. — you both wave each other off and when you close the door behind you, you immediately fall against it. why the fuck were you giggling about some random cinema student? — ted felt the same though, giddy that he had someone like you helping him fix his shitty colour grading. maybe next time he'll get you in the film.

© laambfuzz 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify or translate my work onto any platforms, and do not feed my content to ai.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Venom To The Rescue- Venom/Eddie Brock x Reader

Summary: Venom comes to readers rescue when she’s harassed by John Walker

Word Count: 1, 710

CW: *does have a scene of sexual harassment so TW for that*

*Want to be tagged in any future Venom/Eddie fics? Click here*

The excess room in the transport van was much appreciated, as you, Eddie and Venom travelled to meet the famous Avengers. Eddie stayed with you for most of the journey, but Venom wanted to take over every now and then, complaining that he wanted to see you and that he was bored.

You knew the main reason for the van was to act as a somewhat transport cage for Venom, especially with the armed guards behind you and one in the passenger seat, but you understood.

Being with Eddie and Venom for the past two years and seeing what Venom could do, you completely understand peoples caution. Venom tried to act innocent and like he didn’t understand the need for armed guards, but he knew why, and you think deep down he was a little proud.

“Are we almost there?” Venom continued to complain.

“I think we’re pulling in now, Vee,” you smile sweetly and patiently at the large alien.

“Mr. Brock, it might be best for you to be the one to meet with the Avengers first,” the armed guard in front of you informed.

“What?! That’s not fair!”

The guards pulled their guns, and Venom smiled wide as he licked his fangs, obviously excited for a fight. You knew this was stressing Eddie out and that Venom could easily take these guys out, so to calm the situation you gently placed your hand on Venoms bicep.

“Hey, V, think of it this way, they see Eddie first and think it’s fine, and then when the times right you can make a big appearance, wowing and scaring everyone.”

You always knew how to stroke Venoms ego to make him behave.

“Very well,” he simply spoke as he let Eddie come back.

Seeing Eddie’s face and body once again, you both sighed a sigh of relief. Holding onto Eddie’s hand tightly, you see the van is slowing down and a woman in a professional looking pants suit and tablet is ready waiting for you.

Giving Eddie’s hand a last squeeze of encouragement, you both step out of the vehicle.

“You must be Eddie and Y/N, welcome to the Avengers headquarters. My name is Maria Hill, and I’ll be introducing you and ah- your friend to the team.”

Maria was sweet, although you could tell a little nervous. You and Eddie knew that the Avengers had seen lots of different and dangerous things, but it seems Venom is still a challenge for them.

Walking down the halls to the planned meeting area, Maria is pointing out different things about the building, where things are, what things do, who certain people are.

As you’re all about to step into the elevator together, you hear someone running over.

“Hey, hold the elevator!” You hear someone yell.

Turning around to look at who the voice belongs to, you notice it is no other than John Walker, aka Fake Cap, as you, Eddie and Venom call him. You knew you’d most likely encounter him today, and you all had to prepare each other to meet him, and be on your best behaviours.

“Ah, John good to see you,” Maria told him, obviously trying to hide a wince, “this is Eddie and Y/N. Eddie is a new potential recruit and Y/N is his partner.”

At hearing you were dating Eddie, something seemed to pass John’s eyes, a look of both intrigue and mischief, but whatever it was, it put you on edge.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he spoke only to you as he stepped into the elevator with you, a little close for your liking.

Eddie put his arm around your waist and you could hear Venom growl. Eddie and Venoms protection of you seemed to amuse him, as he smiled creepily, and his eyes leered at you.

Facing the doors for the rest of the lift ride, you could still feel John’s eyes on you the whole time. Eddie’s grip on you got tighter and tighter as you could tell he was trying to hold back Venom.

You comforted them as they protected you.

Walking into the large lab-like room, the rest of the team stood around an area that was no doubt designed for Venom to show himself. Venom had a crowd and a podium, this is exactly what your little drama queen wanted.

After Maria had introduced you to the anxious group of heros, you let go of Eddie and encouraged him to step forward.

While you watched Venom appear through Eddie, you tried to ignore the way John’s eyes obviously bore into you, as if he was studying your actions. Venom stood to full height and waved at you like a kid at a talent show, your wave back seemed to interest John as his stare became even more intense.

Luckily for everyone, Venom was a little too busy showboating to notice how close John now stood to you.

“Alright, Vee, I think that’s enough, sweetheart, time to bring Eddie back,” you called to him as you could see he was getting a little too excited.

Being with both Eddie and Venom could be challenging sometimes, especially when Venom acted like a toddler, but you knew there was more to him than that. You knew how to wrangle him in, and he knew how to make you laugh and look after you.

The team seemed almost amazed that you could bring him back so easily, but the amazement quickly turned to relief as Eddie appeared again. Everyone parted for Eddie to stand beside you, except for Maria, who had most likely practised keeping her cool, this kid Peter who was more excited then scared, and of course, John.

“Alright well, if it’s alright with you Y/N, we’d like to talk with Eddie in private now. Please feel free to wait in the common room I showed you and we’ll come get you once we’re finished.”

You felt a little worried to leave your boys alone, but you made sure to give Eddie a comforting hug and whisper a stern ‘behave’ into Eddie’s ear, before you left.

********

The common room was nice, it was about midway up the tower with large glass windows to see all over the city. After such a long trip it was to your delight that the room was empty, so you could have any of the big comfy couches all to yourself.

Once you made yourself a drink from one of the fancy machines in the kitchen area, you got yourself comfortable and began to read with your warm drink.

It seemed the meeting with Eddie was taking longer than you thought it would, as you finish a chapter and your drink. Standing up you decide to go back to the kitchen to get a cool drink of water. Unfortunately as you turn toward the kitchen however, you almost run into John.

Seeing him alone, and now standing so close, you try your best to calm your breathing.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the meeting?” You asked, trying your best to sound pleasant.

Instead of answering, he simply gave you a sly shrug and smile, as he pushed you against a table, trapping you between it and him.

“What the fuck, John?”

You try your best to shove him off, but it’s no use. Looking into his eyes with fear, his stare only appears predatory as one of his hands rests on your hip.

“What? You’re not gonna call me ‘sweetheart’ like you did with the monster? Hmm? Pretty thing like you dating both a man and a monster. What Brock not man enough for you? Need a monster to fuck you too? You really are a kinky little bitch. I like that.”

You were petrified, frozen in fear, as you prepared for him to kiss or grab you, but it never came. Instead you feel his body weight leave yours, and you see him thrown around the room.

Venom lets out a loud growl as he pinned him against the wall by his neck.

“How dare you speak to her like that! How dare you touch her!”

Still frozen from shock, you can’t move to stop him, and it seems like none of the rest of the team want to do anything either. John thrashes about in Venoms grip, and the team look like they’re trying to work out if and how to save him.

“This guys growing on me, I say we let him join,” Bucky laughs to Sam, everyone’s attention on Venom and not you.

Sam simply rolls his eyes at his friend and groans, realising he’s the one who has to stop all this.

“Alright, I think he’s had enough, big guy.”

You knew Sam wouldn’t be enough to stop him, and you didn’t want someone innocent being hurt by Venom.

“Venom!” You finally find your voice and call out.

You try to think of more to say, but as he and Eddie look at your trembling form, it’s enough for him to stop.

“My sweet,” Venom strides over to you, with each step he turns back into Eddie.

“Let’s get you outta here, sweetheart,” Eddie’s hand comes up to gently stroke your cheek.

“Um huh hmm, Eddie and Y/N, if you’d like to follow me, I can show you to a room for you to stay for the night,” Maria awkwardly interrupted, attempting to soothe the situation.

As if in a numb state, you simply followed Eddie while he gently drags you along. You seem to zone out the whole trip there, until you hear a buzz of your door opening.

“Come on, baby. Get you into bed and I’ll hold you.”

Eddie gently pulls you into the room, and begins to make you comfortable. Sweetly laying you down on the double bed, he takes off your shoes and socks, pulls the covers over you and crawls into bed on the other side of you.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he gentle coaxes as he opens his arms.

The second you lay on his warm chest, a floodgate of tears fall down your face, and the fear and anxiety hits you all at once.

“I’m sorry, baby. We love you so much,” Eddie coos as he rocks you, safe in his arms.

[joonberriess]

⊹₊ ⋆ “he love how i ride it, hop on that dick i make him get excited,”

TAGS — dilf!jk, riding, creampie, dirty talk, slight fingering (brief lol), reader’s a soft good girl, praise kink(?), brief masturbation (male), jk is obsessed with his bby, riding it good wooo, reader’s like a shy good girl uwu, nasty flip-flopping sex, daddy kink to the MAX, she’s subby but kinda bratty, jk has a high sex drive LMAO, mentions of future pregnancy at the end

WORD COUNT — 1.9 k

Jungkook’s insatiable when it comes to you–even more now that you two started sleeping with each other. You didn’t mind at first until you realized it was a bit harder to keep up with him and his high sex drive. He fucked like a man on death row, like he was never going to see you again or something. You were left fucked out but positively bruised.

How Hani hasn’t walked in on you two yet is still a mystery to you with the amount of times you two go at it. If you were down in the kitchen, Jungkook had you on the counter spread out within seconds of walking in. Watching a movie with Jungkook? That won’t last long, you’re lucky if you even get to see the beginning of it. It gets worse when Hani says she’s going out for the day (he will NOT let you out of his sight at all).

Needless to say you weren’t complaining about the situation, you were just as needy as Jungkook was.

“Hey baby.” Jungkook pops his head into your room with a tiny smile, “What you up to?”

You stopped typing on your laptop and spun around in your chair to greet him with a soft hum, “Finishing up this essay, ‘s due by the end of the week.” You mumble and look down to see him holding something from behind the door, “What you got there?”

“A snack for my hard-working girl.” He grins and steps in, holding up the piping hot bowl of ramen that instantly has your mouth watering. “Figured you could use something since you’ve been cooped up in here for days now baby.” He makes his way over and sets the food on the side table.

“Thank you.” You shyly reply and take his hands in yours, “You’re the best..” Jungkook squeezes your hands gently, “How was your day? I didn’t see you when I came home from class.” You run your thumb over his knuckles tenderly.

“Boring without you baby. Had you on my mind the entire time.” He grins mischievously, and you already know where this is heading. “Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout your pretty little lips and sweet little noises.” He slips one of his hands up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your soft pillowy lips.

Your eyes flutter coyly and you lean into his touch, “..missed you too.” You mumble out and let your eyes drop down to his chest where the top two buttons sit unbuttoned, “Missed you lots.” You breathily whisper out.

Jungkook must notice how glazed over your eyes look because he smiles at you deviously and chuckles quietly, “Yeah baby? You were thinkin’ bout daddy too?” He says as he tugs your chair and makes it roll over in front of him, “Tell me what you were thinking about sweetheart.”

“You. Wanted to..wanted you daddy,” you softly mewl, “didn’t like how we couldn’t finish this morning, you left me hanging daddy.” You press your thighs together, rubbing them slowly as a soft pout forms on your lips.

Jungkook licks his lips hungrily, “Baby’s upset she didn’t get to cum in the morning? Didn’t I make you cum two times before that baby? What a greedy girl I got, needs more than my fingers in her slutty little pussy.” He smacks your thighs apart, “Open up for me, don’t be a brat.”

You whine quietly and let your thighs fall open for him, shivering when he slides his hand up, “Daddy…it-it isn’t fair! Y-You said that you will always make me cum however many times I want.” You yelp when he smacks your inner thigh.

“Don’t get mouthy with me baby, where did my sweet girl go? You’ll take what I give you won’t you baby?” He says as his eyes narrow, “Unless you’re being a bad girl?”

Your heart beats faster and you shake your head vehemently, “I’m not a bad girl daddy, ‘m a good girl.”

“Then act like it.” Jungkook pulls back and stands, “Since my baby’s so desperate for my cock why don’t you prep yourself, get you nice and stretched with your fingers. Go on,” he sits on your bed, legs wide apart as he man spreads and leans back.

A small whimper threatens to escape your throat as you watch him, you can feel your mouth salivating as drool threatens to slip past your lips. “Go on.” He nods, “Don’t keep me waiting.” With that you reach down to slip your cotton shorts down your thighs, your panties come down with them but you let them dangle around one ankle as you bring your knees up on the chair, spreading your legs wide as your pussy’s out for his pleasure.

“There you go baby,” Jungkook darkly mutters as he unbuckles his own slacks, “touch yourself for me.” He licks his lips.

A shudder runs through your body, goosebumps erupting all over your body as you shyly bring your hand down to part your slicked up pussy lips. He groans low when you show off your puckered up hole shiny with slick, he’s got his own cock out of his boxers, hand steadily stroking himself. “Look at you,” he sighs, “so messy.”

You let your fingers dip low at your hole, you tease yourself a tiny bit by slipping the tip of your finger in before you slip it back out and circle them around your clit. You softly moan his name and repeat your actions from before a few more times until your pussy is slicked up and dripping. “Go on baby, slip ‘em inside and get yourself ready for my cock.” He purrs.

“Daddy.” You whine out and curl your fingers as you stuff your pussy full with your ring and middle finger. “Don’t wanna stretch myself out, wanna have you inside already.” You let your head loll back as you speed your fingers up with a quiet whine.

Slicked up noises filled the space between you, slick dribbles down between your ass cheeks and on to the desk chair. Your fingers are soaked and your poor clit throbs from lack of attention. This wouldn’t be happening if Jungkook wasn’t making you tease yourself. “Daddy please,” you whimper, “wanna ride you.”

“Yeah baby? Gonna do all the work and let daddy lay there while you use my cock to get off?” Jungkook groans as he speeds up his movements, “Fuck, get over here baby. Sit on my cock,” he slides the rest of his pants right off, “c’mon.” He coos.

You eagerly let your fingers slip out and you make your way over to him, happily climbing over as you crawl up the bed and over his lap. “Please daddy,” you beg softly and settle on to his lap nicely.

“Go on, you know what to do baby.” Jungkook smacks one of your ass cheeks, “Show me you’re my good girl.” He grins.

You grip the base of his cock with one hand and lift your hips up to position your pussy over the head of his cock, “So fucking wet,” he mumbles and watches with hooded eyes, “like that baby, there you go.” He bites his lip.

Your lips part in a silent moan as you slowly inch yourself downwards on his cock, the stretch is a bit painful but not by much. When you sit fully on his lap you’re eager to have your way with him right off the bat. You set your hands on his chest for balance and begin grinding your hips in slow sensual motions.

“Shit.” Jungkook grunts as his head falls back on the pillow, “ ‘s good, pussy so warm and wet ‘round my cock. Got you drippin’ all over me.” He rolls his hips upward as if he wants to slip in deeper somehow.

The shift has you whining and grinding down on him harder, his cock just presses up against all your sweet spots just right. You can feel stars bursting behind your eyelids as you lean your head back.

“Daddy,” you whimper out and grind faster, “please—feels so good, can feel it here,” you set a hand over your lower abdomen, “so deep.” Your words come out slurred.

Jungkook cusses under his breath when you hears you talk like that, “Oh fuck baby,” he whispers, “look at you, desperate little thing you are. You like the way my cock fills you baby? Fills you up just right don’t it?” He runs his hands over your soft cheeks before he smacks both hard and jiggles them in his hands.

You nod your head rapidly, muffling your own whimpers as you begin bouncing in his lap. His cock strikes your g-spot with every bounce, your thighs shake and loud smacks fill the entire room. The sounds you two make are fucking filthy—wet, messy, hot—the bed frame begins rocking into the wall.

“Daddy please,” you bring his hands up to wrap around your waist, “ ‘m getting tired, can’t do it anymore.” You whimper out as your bouncing comes to a stop. You lay down on top of him, idly grinding back and forth.

“You want daddy to fuck you sweetheart? Need me to take over and fuck you so good?” Jungkook moans as he turns his face to hide in your neck, peppering kisses all over.

“Please.” You whisper back and turn to slot your lips against his in a sloppy little kiss.

Jungkook sighs into the kiss and readjusts his grip on your waist before he begins fucking up into your battered pussy. Loud fopping noises resonate as he fucks you like a animal. You bury your hands in his hair and grip it tightly as he plows you from below.

“Baby,” he moans out, “feels so fucking good, gripping me so tight.” He whispers in your ear over the loud squelching noises your pussy makes when his cock slams into you over and over again.

“Mm..! T-There, right there,” you beg softly and meet him thrust for thrust, “gonna cum daddy.” You reach behind to move one of his hands, “Want you to touch me here daddy.” You tug it towards your aching clit.

Jungkook growls low and his thumb immediately finds your clit, rubbing the tender bud side to side rapidly. His hips smack into your ass over and over as he sends you hurtling towards your much awaited orgasm.

“J-Jungkook..!” You cry out and stiffen, your back arches and hips raise as you cum hard all over him and his stupidly perfect cock. “S-So good,” you gasp out.

He grabs your ass tight with one hand as he continues fucking into you until he’s coming too. “Shit baby,” he gasps and rolls his hips slowly, “shit..” He chuckles breathily and lays there blinking slowly, “Made a mess.”

You lay tiredly on him and bury your face in his neck, “Mm..” Your drained, that fucking really took the life out of you, “I didn’t get to eat my ramen.” You mumble out.

“Let’s clean up and take a nap, yeah baby? You worked too hard today on your essay, take some time off.” Jungkook whispers and presses a kiss to your temple. You nod to his words and head over to the bathroom together.

You miss the telltale signs of your watch that sits on your dresser beeping, next to it lies your open pack of birth control, something you completely forget about even after the nap, and then the day after that, and after that…

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

[luvh4nji]

𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐙 + 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

warning: general drunkenness, reader is shorter than yeosang and yunho, use of "y/n" if y'all don't like that

seonghwa ; he seems like a quiet drunk. he's the type to space out, staring at nothing in particular while he thinks. and he gets so happy when you notice how quiet he's gotten and come over to sit with him, nearly purring when you run a hand through his hair and ask him what he's thinking about.

"just you." he replies, watching you with an almost reverent gaze. "well, a lot of things, really, but mostly you." he continues, a light blush coating his features. and he doesn't really have the energy to talk, so he just asks how your night's going, listening to ramble with an impossibly soft look on his face.

hongjoong ; he seems like the type to be an emotional drunk. he just starts thinking a lot when he gets some drink in him; thinking about ateez, about how much he's been through and how hard he's worked to get where he is. and about you. how you've been with him through everything, been his rock through all the tough times he's had over the years.

"you're just so... good." he mumbles, his hands cupping your cheeks, keeping you still and close to him so he can really look at you, as if he's trying to relay all his feelings for you through his gaze. "i couldn't have done it without you, baby. i hope you know that."

yunho ; he seems like a flirty drunk. he's the type to tower over you with his tall frame, letting his broad shoulders box you into the couch of your apartment. he wants to make you flush, to be the reason you're flustered. honestly, you'd have to physically push him away before he runs out of energy and passes out.

"you're so pretty, honey." he mumbles, almost reverently, if it wasn't for the grease that colored his tone. "can't believe i got so lucky, havin' someone like you." and all you can really do is listen to his flirting devolve into affectionate rambles about how much he loves you.

yeosang ; he's a giggly drunk. everything just becomes so funny to him when he gets some drink in him. and he's not necessarily loud either, he just giggles, holding his hand in front of his mouth, eyes pressed up into crescents from how hard he's smiling.

"you're just so cute," he tells you between little laughs, looking down at you from where you stood in front of him, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, trying to convince him to go home. "how am i supposed to t-take you seriously, babe?" but he just lets you drag him along, giggling through his hand the whole time, his cheeks red and achy from how much he'd been smiling.

san ; he seems like the type to get clingy. he'd hold you in his arms, tight enough so you can't move anywhere without him tagging along with you. and when you try to shake him off, try to pry yourself away from him, telling him you need to go to the bathroom, he starts complaining and holding onto you tighter.

"i don't care that you have to go the bathroom, y/nnie." he whines, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pressing sloppy kisses along the skin. "i can just go with you, baby, no problem. i don't understand why you wanna get away from me so bad." and he looks up at you, pouting and giving you a pleading look until you decide he's had enough and it's time to go home.

mingi ; clumsy! he's already an extremely clumsy man, but it gets so much worse when he's drunk. his head's swimming and his legs are shaking as he tries to walk around your apartment, stumbling every few steps until you decide to step in and wrap an arm around him, helping him keep himself up. and he's not completely aware of his situation and a little delusional generally, so he thinks you're just trying to flirt with him.

"woah, y/n," he starts, wrapping an arm around your shoulders so he doesn't fall. he'd look at you with shining eyes and a bright smile. "i didn't know you could be so... so bold. if... if you wanted... to hold me you could've... just said." he tells you through slurred sentences, laughing at his own joke.

wooyoung ; you already know he's the loudest, most extraverted drunk there is. he's walking around, making friends with everyone in his line of sight, giving out his entire life story in an entirely too loud voice. however, you are a part of that life story. all he can do is brag about how pretty his baby is, how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life. especially when you walk over, wrapping an arm around his waist as he wraps his own around your shoulders, trying to keep him steady.

"h-hey, here they are. this is—this is my y/n." he'd tell whoever was present, pointing at you with a shaky hand and turning his gaze over at you with a lovestruck look in his eyes. "they... they're the best, let me tell you. no one can compare to my baby." he rambles between heavy sighs and hiccups to anyone who'll listen until you decide to take him home.

jongho ; he's definitely not a lightweight. it would take a lot of drinking to get him drunk and, even then, he doesn't let himself get to the point where he thinks it's irresponsible. he likes to be aware of and in charge of what's going on around him, but you can still tell when he's feeling a little more tipsy than usual by the way he laughs at everything, cute little giggles that ring in the air and make your heart flutter in your chest.

"c'mon, babe, you don't need to be drinking that much." he'd coo, taking the shot glass from your hand and setting it just out of reach, laughing when you lean over and press yourself into his side, half-heartedly telling him how mean he is. "i know, honey, i know. i'm the meanest guy around." he giggles, head only swimming a little bit as he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Hiccup x reader where Hiccup is stressed over being the chief of Berk and is extra clingy to reader?

Better Left Unsaid

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Reader

Words: 14,022

You wondered if you would ever be able to touch the sky again. You don’t talk about it.

Tags: Httyd 2, Comfort, reconnection, resolution, suggestive content, Gender Neutral reader, reclusive reader (ish), reserved reader (ish), disappointment, rebound, oneshot, ambiguous ending

“It-It’s just too much,” Hiccup stuttered angrily, hushed. He shifted his arms, gesturing lightly but frustratedly with the mug in his shand, leaning against the wall. The water inside sloshed back and forth as he settled the mug down on the table with a thin clacking noise, pushing off against the wall.

It was silent, the empty dark of night all-consuming in a way that blocked everything else out. Even with passion in your voice, you probably still couldn’t speak louder than a gritty whisper.

The Haddock house was empty and dark, the fireplace in the center of the hut untouched as it has been for many nights since the passing of Stoick the Vast. Your basket sat abandoned by the door, washed over by a sheet of blue shadow.

“Maybe you need a system,” You suggested awkwardly, caught off guard as hiccup paced, too taken by his own trouble to care for much else. This wasn’t how you’d imagined any conversation between the two of you to go.

You saw each other around, of course, but events like those usually consisted of turned cheeks. It had been so long since you last talked, and it hadn’t quite ended on good terms.

“My Dad didn’t-” Limbre fingers struggled against the straps and buckles of his armor, inelegant and terse with frustration, Hiccup’s cinched brows and an angry grimace conveying everything you needed to know.

Usually nothing short of a stupid idea from his own head would get him out of it. Or a hard hit. You did your best to give him counsel anyways, despite your unsurety. He’d probably just been swept away by it all, falling back into old habits quickly. 

He would snap out of it soon enough, though if he decided just as you did that you’d rather not address anything at all, you would certainly not complain.

“Your Dad didn’t have to deal with so many trappers or dragons.” You shook your head. You had to admit that you were somewhat disconnected from the matter. The two of you hadn’t been close for years, and you kept to yourself pretty closely. This whole situation was an accident, more of a wrong place, wrong time then anything done on purpose, per se.

You moved around the table, nearly stumbling as you went, suppressing a shiver as you shifted through the cold room, like an empty void. You wondered how Hiccup dealt with it.

You snorted. 

Helping him out felt like crossing some sort of invisible boundary you usually avoided like the plague. But, you had pity on him and the dark circles underlining his eyes. You didn’t think he’d notice. It wasn’t something you worried much about, anyways, not since you were in your teens. That was a sore spot you’d rather not touch on.

“Isn’t a Chief supposed to be able to handle everything on his own? If I do that, then wouldn’t…” Hiccup trailed off into a contemplative, moody silence, glaring off to the side as you did your best to pull his straps free. You weren’t much better with them than he was now, but it was workable, “I’m supposed to be- Wouldn’t that prove that I’m not-…”

He looked somewhat like his father, with that expression, though the skinny frame and his wild, scruffy hair offset it somewhat.

His father was large and tough, but something you noticed about Stoick, even from a distance, was that he was stressed. And angry, all the time. He knew what to do and when to do it but couldn’t handle a lot. Not always. You could imagine the veins bulging from his forehead now, even from beyond the grave. 

You weren’t sure Hiccup was ever supposed to be like him. If he was supposed to even try. Him being Chief wasn’t ever something you imagined even as kids, just as he probably never imagined it for himself, but you were sure if he pulled something together it might be manageable. 

“You’ve always been enough for whatever you wanted,” You muttered, “You’ve been enough since before the dragons and you are enough now as Chief. Coming up with some sort of system isn’t... bad. You Dad had a system,” You winced, watching his expression carefully as you brought up his Dad, though you were sure that not much would reach him when he was in this state, “Your father had a second-in-command for a reason, you know.”

“My inventions, they’re not-” Hiccup groaned. You heard the unsaid question. But wouldn’t that be cheating?

“They’re just as a part of you as anything else.” You repeated the age-old adage, “It doesn’t have to be in invention, though, if you don’t want it to be. Just… Establish a chain of command, or something.”

Hiccup threw his head back, scrubbing his face with his hands. Then he looked back at you, as if he was just then realizing who he was talking to.

“The island probably won’t implode without you. They’re Vikings, they need a little lead, just trust me.”

Sometimes you were fine, and sometimes your disappointment followed you like a sheet over your eyes, something buzzing constantly around the periphery of your vision, bits stuck to the back of your boots like poorly spun wool.

You crunched through the grass on the far end of the bridge leading up to the village, nerves coiling in your guts briefly before you brushed them away. 

Such was the life of a recluse.

You squinted as you marched across large wooden planks, confident in the sturdiness of the bring just as you were unconfident in what lay before you, a figure sitting with their head down on one of the large logs that made up the railing. 

It was a common sight for people to sit by the edge, usually teens, usually with friends, a stolen jug of mead or two in hand on dark nights. It was also a good spot for contemplation. You’d use it many times, especially on rainy, foggy days. It made quite the atmosphere.

However, during the broad daylight, people usually tended to just come and go. They didn’t spend much longer there than they had to. To be honest, most people had dragons. There were many more interesting places up in the sky. You didn’t get that. You dragon, it left a long time ago. 

You shifted your basket of foraged berries and sticks and bits under your arm and grimaced confusedly as you neared the figure, closely examining dark gray armor and a worn, untucked green undershirt. 

“Hello, Chief,” You said plaintively, after you’d spent a few seconds stopped being him, looking down on hunched shoulders and frazzled flyaways.

He groaned, “Please don’t call me that.”

You snorted, gently resting your basket on the ground, making sure all the latches were secured tight over the lid. It got pretty windy up there, wouldn’t do you any good to lose all of your day’s hard work, “What brings you over to my small neck of the woods?”

You shrugged at his silence, relaxing the the hand on your hip before swinging your legs over the same log and planting yourself firmly to his left

“I can’t do this,” Hiccup mumbled exhaustively, without looking up.

You stuck out your tongue, leaning back onto your hands, which pressed against the warm surface of the wood pleasantly. It took you a moment to remember that you should probably come up with a follow-up question, “Why?”

You were a bit rusty.

“I can’t do this,” Hiccup turned briefly to give you a sour look. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Okay,” You shrugged your shoulders, ever the loyal confidant.

So you were going the whole ‘ignore the Gronkle in the room,’ route. You could deal with that.

You wondered where Toothless was. He’d taken to his Alpha statues pretty well, as in, he did nothing to enforce it at all, so there was nothing for him to worry about. Come to think about it, it really was just Hiccup, managing both Vikings and Dragons.

Hiccup shot a look at you again, perhaps asking himself what was wrong with you. Below you, the sea rushed and lulled, storming over the jagged rocks below. You watched it like a snake on a mouse, hypnotic in its movements.

“It’s not. There’s so much to keep track of and,” Hiccup started, continuing on, shaking his head, “Everyone’s always got something- this isn’t like- it’s not like my Dad’s just on a vacation. He’s dead. I’ve never taken care of something this long-term. And Astrid-... I’m not so great at the whole ‘commanding’ thing.”

The split with Astrid was rough on him, you knew. He didn’t talk about it much at all, but everyone could tell it was weighing down on him. People talked, and you didn’t necessarily have to be a part of the conversation to overhear.

You hummed sympathetically, as a group of people started to gather on one end of the bridge. You weren’t sure if Hiccup had noticed it yet, though you were sure if he had he was ignoring it for the time being. 

“You don’t have to command. You just have to be able to direct,” Most people sort of expected Astrid to be there for the whole commanding thing, but honestly you resented the idea, despite the accuracy of it in practice, “I know a guy who would be willing to handle the stables for a day. Johannes, you remember him, right?”

 They, meaning Hiccup and Astrid, were both busy with their own responsibilities, so you didn’t think they had a lot of time to talk it out. It was strange. For the longest time, second to Toothless, of course, she’d been his best friend. The thought sent a sharp, bitter jab up your spine.

You rolled your eyes anyways. A lot of Vikings would give a lot to be able to be in charge of something. As you grew older, you started to realize that Stoick the Vast had a hand in everything. Maybe too much of a hand- that man was stretched thin, “The whole commanding, intimidating bit is Toothless’s job now.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup choked out.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed a pack of Vikings already halfway to you, encroaching from the Berk side of the bridge, arms waving in the air. You looked away for a moment with furrowed brows, beginning to scoot back with high caution, trying your hardest to not make any sudden moves.

“When’s the last time you did something for yourself?” You asked, “Gone to the forge, or flown out?”

“I have no idea,” Hiccup wheezed.

“When’s your next lull? It’s a lot easier for me to say it than for you to do it, but you should probably, you know, take a step back,” You suggested.

“Never,” Hiccup gestured with his hand, other arm pressed against his back, “This is it, for the rest of my life.”

You grimaced, shrugging pityingly as you heard the distant shout of his name, and watched Hiccup crumple in on himself again as the two of you met eyes.

You were a bit surprised by how easy conversation flowed between you, though you were sure whether you wanted to run or just shy away from it. You weren’t sure if you felt anything for it at all.

You shook your head, deciding very astutely on the running bit, swinging back onto solid ground and gently lifting up your shoulders. You hooked your fingers under the edge of your basket and pulled it into your arms, settling it smoothly in hand.

“Well, when your life’s over, I’ll be here. We’ll, ah, figure it out then, I guess.”

You lifted your tunic from your back, tugging until you were able to twist it over your head.

As you did, you eyed the portraits of the wives taken off and replaced, hung lower on the wall and decorated with each of their assets. You’d found them lying around and it felt wrong not to return them to their original owners somehow. They were usually separated from the rest of your dwelling by a thin, old moth-eaten curtain.

You were sure the wives were all just as ugly and unpleasant as Mildew himself, but there was something off about taking them down especially when you kept everything else close to the same.

You patched the hole in the roof with old ship’s sails and mismatched tiles, just enough to keep your cabin barely above freezing in the wintertime.

You shook your clothes onto the floor as you changed, mindful not to look down at any of the scars in the darkness of your hut. 

You were probably supposed to feel proud. They were trophies of battle. Most other Vikings would wear them proudly, displayed like an honor bestowed onto them. They didn’t particularly bother you, though it never bode well to linger on reminders of things long since finished.

If only they knew how you’d gotten them.

You didn’t earn them through bravery or anything else of the sort and you weren’t anywhere near one of the worst when it came to scarring. First place probably went to Phegma, who had a huge burn scar just barely covered by her day wear.

 You got yours because you weren’t fast enough to dodge the blow of an axe, to jump out the way of a trap sprung on the group without taking some serious damage. 

You were a great planner, an architect and an infrastructural thinker. But that didn’t often come in handy on the Edge, especially not when all the buts of your knowledge that could be applied were better covered by the other Riders’ areas of expertise. 

So where everyone else excelled, you stumbled. Where everyone else tumbled with the blows, you fell hard onto the ground, and you hadn’t anyone to confide your hurts in. 

Eventually trying to keep up got to be too much. When you saw the rest of them, able to come together so easily and shake off all their cuts and injuries, you hurt.

There was nothing quite as terrible as watching everyone, especially Hiccup, walk forwards while you strayed behind, struggling your hardest and failing to even to keep to their heels.

You blinked at the scratching of something sharp against wooden walls, muffled though still clearly audible, coming from the outside. You paid it no mind, ignoring it just as you ignored the tiny shafts of sunlight seeping through the cracks between wooden planks and crumbling walls, illuminating tiny particles of floating dust.

It was just the branches pestering the framework of your salvaged home, one of the half-dead bushes lining the front, nearing the height of a tree, mimicking the sound of a dragon you’d long since pushed from your mind. Yours.

You sighed. It was just another thing weighing on your mind back then, when you’d been at your lowest. You were tired of it, now. But a blank kind of tired.

Like a flat, fresh water ocean. Waveless, shallow. Eerie.

It was a much calmer tired than the kind you felt then; Violent waves slamming you into the sand, rubbing fragile lungs raw with grit and silt. Of the bruised ribs, the fighting, the cuts and hurt no one seemed to notice and the friend you didn’t seem good enough to have anymore.

You reached down to pull your tunic off the ground, tossing it onto a nearby table, covered in dust, made frail through disuse. You coughed at the fine grime tossed into the air, flapping your hand in front of your nose in an effort to disperse it.

You wondered if the sealights would be lit tonight.

“-He has five dragons. Five. And he wants me to come up with a whole set of dragon towers for him how?-”

You trod through the dewey morning leaves, back straighter than necessary, trying not to sweat too much or to look back at the armorless, green-tunic-ed guest at your back.

You couldn’t say you weren’t a little tired of the whole running Berk it yourself. Sure, you weren’t necessarily responsible for it but it was a pastime of a lot of the Vikings around town to talk about it, the mindless gossips, and once or twice while you were in town trading for what you needed. 

There were also the sailors, who had a mind, when down by the docks, to share the business of everyone regardless of the tribe. Even as the village recluse, you got roped into it, listening around corners with rap ears

“-Even with dragons it’s not easy to-” Hiccup waved his hands around, journaling under one arm and eyes glued, glaring onto the ground. It turns out he had taken you at your word. Sort of. He was still very much alive. He must have found some time off, or figured out something, because here he was.

You squinted at the paper in your hand, staring at messily done blueprints. There was a house sketched lifted above the ground by a pole and another sketch of a bunch of regular huts stacked on top of each other. You held the same basket from before under your arm, woven bits frayed and flexible and worn.

You recognized the beginning stages of a bunch of these sorts of huts being built all around Berk. It was getting fuller, especially with all of the ex-trappers and Vikings migrating in from the other tribes. And then there were relations outside of the interpersonal to manage. So of course there needed to be a few changes.

“This isn’t safe,” You said drily, “Remember the windmill? These are all going to fall down with the next devastating winter. And where are we going to find logs large and long enough to keep all these houses up? There aren’t nearly enough trees on all of Berk to get this done for everyone.”

“I know!” Hiccup pausing, turning to shake his head quickly, before bending over to scrub the hair on his head, “It’s insane! Everyone wants me to go with it!”

“You shouldn’t,” You deadpanned.

“I might,” Hiccup pursed his lips, “If it gets them to leave me alone. I can’t be builder, Rider and Chief.”

“Well- no, you can’t be. But why don’t you just come up with a few sturdy designs and make him choose one. Same for everyone else. Then just,” You paused, grimacing as you had to grab a branch, pushing it out of the way, “Put someone in charge of building all of them. And making sure they don’t go build in all the wrong spots.”

“I don’t know,” Hiccup shrugged his shoulders, letting his arms fall back to his sides, turning his head up and allowing the light filtering through the thick wooded area to fall onto his face, “Everyone wants something unique. You think they’ll settle?”

You turned around, branch still in hand, “They’ll have to. Same way they have been for three hundred years.”

You rolled your eyes and set forth again, letting go of the branch, which swung back quickly. You didn’t quite see what happened any more than you heard Hiccup’s yelp and the subsequent step back.

“Ow, ow, ow ow, Gods, curse it-”

You turned back around startled, turning back into the branch which followed its inertia, snapping back into your face. 

You brought your hand back up to your eye so quickly you smacked, dropping your trusty basket right out from under your arm and falling roughly onto your butt. The berries on the inside poured out of your basket onto the forest floor and you cursed, bemoaning it and yourself and laying the rest of the way down onto your back.

Head against the roots of a tree, smelling the earth and staring up at the dappled sunlight through waving tree leaves, you couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up through your throat.

It was better than getting mad, or crying. Still, you stifled it, shaking your head clear, pushing yourself back up, ignoring the stickiness of the berries stuck to your back and the juice dripping down the side of your hand.

Hiccup looked down on you skeptically, lips quirked in a way you read as confused. You remembered a time when he might have fallen down with you. It seems though that as the two of you got older, he became much surer of yourself. 

Still, it was a world of difference from the Hiccup you knew a moment ago, stressed and weighted and tired with all the burdens of everyone else on Berk and the loss of his father on his back. 

You wanted to see more of this Hiccup, who was snippy and sarcastic and who you might have loved once upon a time. Who wasn’t stuck in mournful contemplation about identities and relationships and other such sad things.

And maybe you wanted to take back some of him for yourself, as if it might bring back to you the part of yourself you lost, at least for just this little while. Though if this was where it ended, for you, this moment would be more than enough.

He needed reprieve. You decided you would be that reprieve, for as long as he would take you.

“Why don’t we do something besides talk about Berk?” You smiled wryly to yourself, rubbing your hands off on your smock, shrugging your shoulders loose once you got back onto your feet. 

You did your best to put on a happier facade, different from the insecure, hunched-shouldered version of you from way back in the past, and different from the apathetic lone figure you were now.

“I…” Hiccup blinked at you for a moment. He looked a tad thrown off by you now with your shoulders high, hands on your waist and back straight, much different from any sort of behavior you’d exhibited since long before.

The wide smirk on your face faltered, and you toned it down a little, slumping a bit. You knew you hadn’t had the ability to make Hiccup smile in a long time, but this was just terrible. Sometimes you wondered if you ever had, or if he was just faking it. It didn’t matter much to you now.

“Or, you can come with me and wait outside while I go find a change of clothes,” You said blankly, letting your hands fall to your sides, “Your pick.”

Hiccup grimaced, probably thinking of the greeting he’d get once he got back. You weren’t quite sure how he made it out here in the first place, and in his casual wear no less. You hadn’t seen him in anything less than a full set of leather armor for a very long time.

Of course, he’d chosen the latter. Sort of.

You let the water from the stream run over the toes of your boots, waterproofed by tar and oil as you pulled up your smock, scrubbed until it was worn and back to the same colorless dull hue you had gotten it in. It was to your benefit that you had worn something under, though the berries were much too pigmented for you to leave your smock on its lonesome.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” You sighed, picking yourself up and away from the beck, slinging your water heavy clothing over a low-hanging branch. 

You turned to look at Hiccup who had decided to wait by the treeline, back to one of the large pines lining the whole island. He had found himself a terror along the way and was minding it with amusement, waving a thin branch above its head and watching and it leapt and curled after.

“It’s alright,” He said almost bashfully, without looking up, as the Terror flipped onto its belly, wriggling after the branch Hiccup waved over its stomach like a fish to a worm, “I, ah, I got Johannes to handle the stables.”

Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck as you pulled down your sleeves, picking at the loose threads and checking for any unpleasant damp spots, of which, for once, thankfully, there were few. 

“You took my advice, then,” You noted absentmindedly that this was the tunic you’d worn on the Edge, its color washed out and much thinner, but still very recognizable.

“Yeah,” Hiccup weighed the stick in his hand almost contemplatively before tossing it to the side, watching as the terror scurried after.

“So,” You said, sweeping your foot almost carelessly across the carpeted forest floor, pulling your basket into your arms again, “How have you been?”

“How have I been?” Hiccup asked astoundedly even as he eyed your smock, reluctantly pulling his gaze from it in order to follow as you led your way back up to the forest path, “I think you know the answer to that.”

“Yes, well, no- I mean, from before that,” You scoffed, looking down darkly into your nearly empty basket.

You meant after you left.

You felt the familiar pulling of tides, tugging at something deep and light in your gut. 

The air was still between you. It was hard not to feel when there was nothing between you but air and your own memory of some hastily forgotten hurts.

“That was a stupid question,” You shrugged, kicking aside a stick, protruding from just off the path.

You were sure Hiccup had been too stressed earlier to care or notice but it was easily felt now. Your quarters were much too close for you to put on the same old facade and pretend that nothing had ever happened and that the two of you weren’t ever more than strangers, your bond closely resembling something you might have once called friendship.

“I… Well, if you don’t mind tagging along still, I won’t make you do much,” You pushed down thoughts of beating storms, rain so thick you couldn’t see five feet in front of you, “You caught me off guard.”

You blinked away memories of rushing, towering waves and a bone-deep chill only made worse by the pressing winds and the water soaked deep through your clothes and to your bones, causing you to shiver and shake and pull closer to the neck of your dragon. 

Pressing deeper into leathery skin and scales, closer than you ever thought possible, praying to the Gods that you might be spared the indignity of living to see another day past your shame, past your desertion.

“Alright,” Hiccup decided finally, eyeing you oddly.

You pretended you didn’t feel the phantom shivers clawing up and down your spine or the echoes of a deep burning hurt you were certain had gone long since unnoticed by all the wrong people.

You made sure your breathing was steady as you marched forward, carefully putting one foot in front of the other. 

You listened to the occasional wingbeat of a dragon from up above and the unburdened twittering of small animals in the foliage surrounding you. 

You heard Hiccup stifle a yawn from back behind you. You wondered what you could do to make this trip worth it for him. To be honest, you weren’t quite expecting him to take you up on your offer. It was more of a snipe, really. 

You’d never been good at those, though. People always took you much too seriously.

There was a clearing up further ahead to your left, one you neared as the trees grew thicker and larger, where you could hopefully make up for some of your lost boon. The berries, you were sure they were gone, but perhaps you could make up for it by finding some other things.

The loudest noise between the two of you was the sound of your footsteps.

You inhaled the misty air of the forest and, eventually, you began to relax.

“Here we are,” You hummed, as the path grew lighter, sunlight filtering between the trees and the foliage.

You examined the crown with care, looking over each leaf and link, turning it around gently in your hands. What began as a task born from boredom became something you invested yourself into with brief interest.

The atmosphere was bright and the sun warm against your shoulder blades, laying like a heavy furred blanket across them as you leaned down, splitting small holes in the ends with your fingernails and threading grasses through until you had some approximation of a flower crown, minus the flowers. 

It was the kind of warmth that made you sentimental, bringing up a feeling that felt like something flowering, which you pursued vaguely as if this might have been the last time you ever felt it. 

By the time you two had been teenagers, Hiccup had been long since uninterested in that kind of thing. In teenage boy fashion, he avoided things such as flower crowns and playing in the sand down by the beach, much too focused on killing a Dragon and trying to seem tough enough to meet standard. 

Then he got Toothless, and from there on after he hadn’t time for anything but Dragons and the Riders. He was too absorbed in his inventions to pay any mind to other things.

You’d deeply wanted to do it, though maybe not always specifically to him, but you’d never found the purpose. You had it now.

You turned to Hiccup with a lopsided smile, watching his chest rise and fall gently for a few moments. Your lips twitched, falling into a small crown as you held out the crown, deciding whether or not you should drop it.

 Hiccup blinked drowsily awake at the sudden movement, to which you startled and before you realized it, the crown had gently slipped from your fingers and fell over the crown of his head. Because of the angle, though, it looked to be resting more on his forehead than anything. 

You held your breath as his eyes unfocused and fluttered shut again, unregistering, and you backed up on all fours with quiet ease, pushing yourself to your feet, attempting to flee the scene and pretend nothing had quiet happened at all.

You shuffled to the other side of the clearing, craving distance, walking a path around it like you were attempting to trace the edges with your feet. You balanced on it, placing your heel to the other foot’s toe and then again with the opposite foot, arms out in front of you, taking note of all the shrubbery around you.

Eventually the shifting ferns drew back your attention and you glanced back towards Hiccup, who’d sat up groggily, slowly examining the crown that had probably, most likely just fallen from his head.

He looked a complete and utter mess. You hid an ugly grin.

“I hope you like it,” You smiled down at the stem connecting a nice wad of berries to the bush. It was too quiet for him to hear and you were much too far away, but it was more of a musing to yourself anyways.

You leaned back onto your heels, sore for all the walking you’d done. You wondered if they were the right kind, enough to replace the bushel you’d lost earlier. You weren’t completely sure they were edible, anyways.

The two of you had broken out into a clearing, one covered in grass and ferns, and this was where you had decided to set midday camp. 

You lounged there in the waning sun, Hiccup more so than you, not so much watching the world turn to oranges and reds as witnessing it in your periphery. You’d lived it too many times for it to be any sort of novel. 

You were sure it was different on dragonback, but alas. You didn’t have that option.

After you came back to Berk, taking to the ground like you’d developed a phobia of everything else, it spent a lot of time flying around on its own, going who-knows-where on most days. One day, when you’d had the mind to look for it, you’d found that it had flown off for what was most likely good. 

You traced the leaf veins below your thumb, lost in mindless remembrance, ambiguously aware as Hiccup got up.

He groaned like he was a decades older man than he was, audible across the clearing, while putting his hands to the small of his back and leaning backwards mad before he made his way over. 

“What’s this?” Hiccup asked, holding what you were sure was the crown in his hand. You weren’t looking and ignored it, not necessarily expecting him to call you out on it any more than you’d expected to make the crown itself.

“Not sure,” You said, before looking over, and glancing up and down at ruffled clothes, messy hair and the sleeve that came up to wipe off the corner of his mouth, “Have a nice nap?”

“I’m just fine, thanks… “

You rolled your eyes, “That wasn’t my question.”

“Does it matter?” He asked, straightening out his shoulders.

“You were out for a while,” You said in lieu of an answer, “Was worried you needed me to drag you back to the village. Tuck you into bed.”

“No,” Hiccup said exorbitantly, “Never.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” You shot back.

“Maybe.”

“Definitely…” Hiccup started, “An exaggeration.” 

“Not at all.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Everyone’s had their share of it,” You stated, lifting your shoulders exaggeratedly, bringing both hands up by your head with your shrug, while kicking out your foot, turning to trot off in the opposite direction.

“You do a lot of really-need-to-be-dragged-back-after activities.”

“Hey, well, I’ve done a lot of that for you, too.”

“Pick one, name something.”

“I mean, I’ve kept you from falling down off cliffs a lot,” Hiccup ran a hand through his hair.

“I have since not stopped falling off cliffs,” You squinted at him, “And neither have you, I’m pretty sure. Also, that jumping off dragons thing? Serious disqualifier. That counts as at least half a cliff jump every time. Negative helping-me-out points. Honest.”

“What?” Hiccup shook his head, gesturing towards himself, “Doesn’t count. Never met a dragon that didn’t have my back. Natural Dragon Master. No danger.”

A natural if by natural he meant through fifteen years of absolute failure in any sort of interaction with an animal more sentient than a frog.

“Sure…” You remembered all the time he spent as kids, half with you and sometimes without, running across rooftops for his dad. Because you were being chased. By dragons. 

“Okay, call me a dragon, right now.” You said, with finality.

“Right now?”

“Right now.” 

You spent a little while staring at him.

“What, now?”

You nodded.

You were slightly surprised when he played along, even though you knew you had been egging him on to do it. You watched him cup his hands and chitter oddly into them, in a mimicry of what you understood as a Terror call.

You looked down on him with fake skepticism. Usually, with the call, it was a hit or miss whether a dragon would respond. The dragons with Riders tended to ignore you completely unless you were their rider. 

Both of you knew this, though you counted it on being a miss.

“They’re coming, you’ll see,” Hiccup said, waving his left hand as if he was clearing smoke out of the air.

“I hope it blows up in your face. Like that catapult, from when we were kids,” You blew a raspberry at him.

“What, which one?” Hiccup asked.

“The one you tried to roll up to your house, kept rolling down the hill, went straight through Burthair’s cart and smashed through his fence,” You grinned, “Your dad made you round up all his sheep after, remember?”

You remembered trying to help him quietly in secret, gathering a few sheep on a lead before you were caught and sent home to be scolded.

“No, hey, You blew that one up,” Hiccup said incredulously, “That one was all you.”

“Yeah, it was.” You admitted guiltlessly.

“You are the worst,” He said, as the sound of flapping and the rustling of trees grew slightly louder. You ignored it, thinking it was just another random group of dragons lost over Berk. There had been a lot of those as of late.

“The worst,” You agreed. You had a foot already up, halfway into a turn before a bright yellow, spiny body slammed quickly into your face.

You yelped, falling to the side, tumbling slightly as what must have been a Terrible terror scrambled for purchase and left off your face and into the tree line. You blinked, half-shaded under low-hanging branches.

You braced yourself against your arm, bringing your other hand down from your face to see red in the shape of a smeared line across your face. By the look and size of it, it wasn’t too bad.

You opened and closed your jaw with annoyance, realizing quickly that the Terror must have scratched your face. 

Henceforth, though, you were much more easily capable of dodging around the sudden appearance of more Terrors, catching a tiny green one just before it face planted into the dirt. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” You caught Hiccup, too, doing his best to dodge around them, jumping back as a feisty blue clawed its way up his back as he made his way towards you.

It was a difficult effort to make as by the time you had found solid ground, the dragons began to jump on top of him, covering his arms and legs so that he looked like a pile of very large and colorful bees standing on two legs.

You could help but laugh, wobbling over to help. You slipped your hand under the leg of a terror just before Hiccup fell over with a shout, falling forwards and nearly dragging you with him as he tumbled into the shade of the treeline. 

And as if following a command, terrors scuttled away, as if chasing after your peals of laughter, echoing around the clearing.

There wasn’t nearly enough time between Hiccup’s call and the appearance of the dragons for any, or at least most of them to have come in from Berk, nor any guarantee that any of the Terrors heard him, but these gathered quick enough for you to be seriously impressed.

“Yeah… I wasn’t expecting that either.” You stared down at Hiccup as he stared back, the two of you looking at each other with startled eyes, you bent half over and Hiccup propper up on his elbows on the ground before the two of you broke out into breathy laughter.

The flowers and plants around you were heady, filling the breathless airheadedness in between your eyes with even more cotton.

Your voices mixed and quieted in equal fashion, the two of you ignoring the mutterings of the forest until, eventually, they grew into something you could hear. 

“Hiccup!”

You froze, a wince stuck on your face.

“Hiccup!” This shout was much more drawn than the last. 

It was Astrid. 

You saw the shadows of her and Stormfly drift smoothly over the face of the clearing. You wondered if she had followed some of the Terrors out or if she had gotten Stormfly to track Hiccup’s scent.

You were about to look back at Hiccup for some sort of direction before he tugged you after him. Tugged until the two of you were huddled under the alcove you had missed, made by two thick roots of a ginormous tree, waiting.

You weren’t sure how far above she was, she hoped she didn’t see your basket, sitting plainly across the way.

You could tell Hiccup was holding his breath, staring out deep into the forest, where trees went from towering to the sole consumers of light, protecting a misty undergrowth beneath a dark, leafy roof. There was a log to the left of the entrance to the narrow space, half-rotted and sprouting mushrooms out of its side.

You recalled that there had been a notable instance around when the two of you had been just about twelve, sneaking around in the Great Hall for the leftovers post meal. You’d been trapped in a closet, when they’d had those, removed after you and Hiccup had accidentally burned them down at fourteen, with nothing but a loaf of bread between you.

The air wasn’t nearly as musty or stale, and of course it was much darker then, with not the whiff of a fresh plant in sight, but the principal was still the same.

You held very little stake in it all, but you kept close and stiff anyways, the joyful atmosphere from before mixing into something fun and scurrilous, electrifying the space behind your eyes and sending ticklish bolts of lightning down your spine.

It remained there until the heavy wing beats of the Dragons above you faded long into the distance.

The field, littered with scented flowers and bushes, must have muddled Stormfly’s scent. Or she really was just following the Terrors. One thing was sure, though. Where there was one Rider, there were more.

“I thought you said you got people to cover it?” You asked.

“I did. They should have been able to, but something must have happened,” Hiccup leaned back against the tree bark, hitting the back of his head against it lightly, grunting lightly as it did. 

You wondered if he had grown a few inchest still since you had last been close to him on the Edge.

You raised your eyebrow, asking the silent question. Are you going to go back?

Hiccup said nothing, looking away, though you couldn’t miss the soft clench of his jaw and the gentle slouch, or the agitated twiddling of his fingers by his waist.

You rolled your eyes. Privately, you almost felt bad that you weren’t able to give him a better time out. But also, there would be many other times for him to make up for it with other people. You wondered if he would ever choose to come back to you.

“They should be able to handle it. They’re not children. But it’s no burden on me whether you stay or go,” You inclined your head forwards.

You placed one foot in front of the other across the uneven wooden planks. You just needed to get down to the fields.

You strode past the bright red hut that marked the Jorgenon Clan, avoiding haphazardly placed construction materials.

You paused where you stood and turned back as Hiccup called your name, standing right in the middle of the walkway. It never ceased to surprise you whenever he showed up. 

It wasn’t much. But it still surprised you every time he came with greetings.

You smiled.

He quickened his pace, pulling himself up onto the path and stopping in front of you, prosthetic clicking against wood.

“Hiccup,” You greeted, “What brings you to me?”

“Where do you live, now?” He asked, “I was planning on stopping by, but…”

“Up behind the spire on the way to Gothi’s,” You hummed.

“But that’s… You live in Mildew’s old hut?” Hiccup asked, surprised. 

“Yeah,” You nodded, rifling through the satchel clipped to your waist, flicking through rows of herbs with delicately placed fingertips, “So what have you been up to?”

You realized you needed to go off-island soon. The idea filled you with dread.

“Do you really want to ask that?” Hiccup questioned, “because there’s been a lot…”

“Why not?” You shrugged.

“Some rouge dragons have been eating holes into the earth- and with all the dragons underwater, coupled with the Scauldrons-” Hiccup rubbed his forehead, “Basically, they’ve been drilling new hot springs, which has been nice, but no one’s gotten to any of them yet. They always seem to dry up before anyone can get there and back and I keep getting complaints about people’s water getting stolen, or something.”

“Ouch,” You said sympathetically, as Hiccup continued on.

“I wish they’d give it up, honestly. There are more important things for me to get to, but I haven’t even been able to get to all the trading issues with all the other tribes… Anyways, are you busy?” Hiccup asked quickly, looking back and forth.

“Busy?” You asked. 

“I kinda want to get out of here before anyone else…” Hiccup shrugged his shoulders, cringing.

“Notices?” You finished, “Let’s go.”

“A hot spring?” You asked aloud, both your and Hiccup grasping the edge of the pool on your knees, watching the water bubble slightly. 

Hiccup extended a hand hesitantly, grazing it over the bubbling surface. You watched as the foam fizzled underneath his palms and when he didn't flinch, you sat back and pulled off your boots, rolling up the legs of your trousers, revealing a long scar on the leg furthest Hiccup.

“It’s alright to wash in?” You asked, Hiccup nodding an affirmative. 

You rested a bare foot onto the bubbling water, testing it out with your toes, before sinking your legs in with a breathy sigh. 

“It’s one of the ones you were talking about, right?” You asked

“Yeah,” Hiccup confirmed, watching you closely.

You let out a soft, disappointed sound at the idea that it might be gone soon.

The spring looked to be about waist-deep, though that might be something you needed to test out before dipping into the pool. It was pressed up and partially embedded in the side of a rocky cliff, spearing into the ground at a sideways angle. 

All around, the two of you were packed in by large, lush fauna. Huge ferns, even larger trees and a great deal of mist.

Very, very private.

It was extremely tempting.

“We could… It would be nice, but…” Hiccup reasoned. He didn’t seem into the idea, which was fine. Honestly, you didn’t mind having this spot all to yourself. 

There wasn’t much of a practical way to sink into the waters without stripping nearly bare anyways. Hiccup’s armor would most definitely be damaged by the water, and you didn’t like the idea of marching back to Berk in sopping wet furs.

Your undergarments certainly weren’t up to scratch for the kind of soak you were looking for.

“We don’t have a change of clothes.” You said, meeting his eyes head on. The two of you looked at each other for a moment. 

Hiccup must have followed the same line of thought, looking at you like he’d caught something odd and he didn’t know what to do with it. There was an odd feeling curling in your stomach, and an awkwardness that hadn’t been so palmable between you since before… Before.

Did it really matter if he saw you naked? Or at least clothed only partially? It wasn’t as if you’d never seen him the same during all your years of semi-sturdy friendship.

You spent a moment feeling the skin on your face begin to warm, brows crinkling with a remembrance that sort of killed the mood before you glanced away with as much casualness as you could muster.

“Do you think we could get back in time?” You asked instead. 

“Well, there’s not much hope, but I guess it’s worth a try,” Hiccup started hesitantly.

You and Hiccup stared down at the small bubbling hole at the base of an empty basin. It had been an awkward walk back to the Village. Still, you seemed incapable of suggesting anything else. Hiccup, too. 

“Gods damn it,” Hiccup said. 

You shrugged, the roll of cloth under your hands shifting only slightly. Besides the tarp strapped to your back and the towels to Hiccup’s, the both of you were carrying a set of undergarments you found which should have covered just enough to remain modest in the springs.

Toothless, behind the two of you, basket in mouth, grumbled as he dropped it to the tall grass floor. You’d brought him along in order to help carry the bulk of your things.

“Well,” You started, puzzling to yourself, hand under your chin, “I mean, we could try what you did last time? With the Terrors?”

“But with a Scauldron, right?”

You nodded, “Honestly, it’s that or head back.”

Hiccup winced, immediately backing away to settle down onto one knee. He was turned to face your right, so that he was looking out towards the forest. 

He opened his mouth and cupped his hands, then paused. Then he tried again. But no sound game out. The whole time Toothless looked peeved, eyes shifting between the two of you as he snorted.

You stared blankly, waiting, which was probably the first time you and Toothless ever felt the same sort of emotion, though you most likely meant it in a much more joking fashion than he did.

“I can’t do it with you watching,” Hiccup said, finally.

You squinted at him, wondering what was up with the sudden-onset stage fright, just as Toothless rolled his eyes, shaking his torso like a wet dog, causing a hastily-clipped basket to fall off his saddle. 

“Oh,” You said, turning around and grinning to yourself, “Alright. Howl away.”

You hoped he hadn’t figured out how to get to the fish basket yet. It would be a pain to walk back to Berk with everything in hand, and it would be very easy for Toothless to leave without his incentive to follow the hostage on his back.

“It’s not howling.” Hiccup deadpanned.

You knew that. You were actually pretty decent at it, back when you were still involved in the dragon business. 

“Alright.”

You stared out at a heavy wall of fauna, a large leaf and a towering set of two trees consuming the vast majority of your vision. You watched a bug crawl up the exterior of one and noted to yourself silently that you would have to watch where you rested your things while you were in the spring, if what Hiccup was trying was to work.

You listened to him shift and shuffle, moving around until Toothless must have gotten tired of waiting and he himself let out a loud, echoing roar.

You jumped back, caught off guard, jerking towards the pair with your ears covered by your hands, undergarments, falling to the grass below.

“How long do you think it will take to fill up?” You asked from the floor, hips sinking into the grass as you pushed yourself up, shrugging the straps holding the large cloth tarp in place off your shoulders.

“Not sure,” Hiccup said, shifting from foot to foot, “We should get changed first.”

“Yeah,” You agreed, tossing it over to him. He weighed it in his hands, examining it before pulling it free and letting it unravel onto the floor. 

“Hey, do you have any idea where we packed the blanket?” You asked. It was a bit overkill, but… You bit your lip.

“In the saddle, I think.”

You inhaled touchily as Hiccup gripped onto the edge of the tarp, turning from you to throw the other end out, watching it unfurl as it caught air, “Ah, do you think you could get it?”

Swiftly though not without ungain, Hiccup slung the tarp over one of the low-hanging branches, the ends of the fabric falling horizontally over the thick grasses and bushes around you. 

You supposed that meant the tarp was unnecessary, the forest here enough to bless you with cover and privacy. You noted that down.

“What? He’s harmless,” Hiccup said, letting the curtain fall closed behind him.

You squinted into the sky, up through a very small window, shafting light down through the trees. You would have worried that no other dragons would heed Toothless’ call, knowing that you yourself wouldn’t, had you not already heard the hurried beating of wings from up above. 

You stuck your tongue out at Hiccup, then turned it towards his dragon.

Honestly, it was still unimaginable to you that Toothless had developed the ability to become Alpha. It was insane, and insanely lucky. For Hiccup, that is.

The two of you, meaning you and Toothless, had never been left alone in the same room together for a reason, though most people just thought it was your fault. The reason being that Toothless didn’t like you, and you didn’t like him as a result of that. 

Harmless… Right. You scoffed.

You knew you knew better and you reassured yourself of that fact, as Toothless grumbled at you from across the small space.

Hiccup shook his head at you, quirking the corner of his mouth to the side as it formed a fondly exasperated line, unclipping various satchels and baskets from Toothless’ back.

You grimaced and scooted further away from the dragon, nudging the basket of fish closer to him with your foot, hoping that he might take more of an interest in that instead.

You kept your eyes trained on the dragon even as Hiccup walked to his side with his clothes under his arm shuffling through the treeline and behind the curtain. 

“You have enough room?” You squinted at Toothless, resting your arms against your knees, and he narrowed them back.

It had been a tricky job to get his things without anyone else noticing, a lot of careful pressing around corners and tricky, calculated jabs from Toothless, many of which you were still bitter about. 

“It’s enough,” Hiccup responded, voice trained. 

The scaly thing was still grumpy; the chances of him soldering a grudge were high, especially where you were involved. The two of you called him away from a tussle with some other dragons from around the bend, which he seemed to be enjoying by at least some measure.

If only he’d put some of that energy into being a more attentive Alpha. You wrinkled your nose, judging the dragon like a temperamental parent.

You listened to the shifting of leaves, fabric and leather before deciding you’d been waiting too long, much too used to doing things on your own time.

“I’m just going to change over here,” You called through the curtain, “Turn around, will you?” You asked Toothless, who grumbled at you disgruntledly, the ridges of his brows as furrowed as he could make them.

“Turn around, Toothless,” Hiccup confirmed from behind the curtain.

He shifted with a grumble, lumbering sideways and around, though not without whacking you in the calf with his tail, first.

You finished changing just as the first few dragons began to settle down.

You shuffled to the side once you were ready, letting Hiccup through to order and direct, gentle-parenting the dragons into doing what you needed. 

You watched him. He was shirtless, legs bare, though his left ankle remained wrapped to his prosthetic. You wondered if it hurt, sometimes, though you hadn’t the courage to ask.

He was slim as always, muscled but not quite muscly, more soft than not. It went unsaid that he was not nearly as built or wide as any of the other Viking men, so you tried not to ogle.

You sat, legs crossed on the ground as Hiccup directed the Scauldrons and Gronkle in turn, slowly patching and filling up the pool.

“How long do you think it will take to cool down?” You asked as he sent them off and he came over to stand by you, settling himself onto the small stretch of grass you were laid in.

“Not sure,” He answered.

At one point Toothless turned towards the trees, shaking himself off before beginning to march through the underbrush.

“Hey, don’t go too far, bud,” Hiccup called after him.

The two of you sat there, just you, watching steam rise from the pool

“He’s been really independent lately,” Hiccup stiffened slightly, picking at the wooden end of his prosthetic, “Yeah…”

You moved back to give him space as he unraveled the leather wraps keeping his prosthetic secure to his leg, revealing a stump and a good amount of pinched scar tissue.

You spent a moment longer looking at it than you probably should’ve before looking away. You’d never seen it before

You wondered if Astrid had. You couldn’t imagine a world where she hadn’t.

Hiccup sunk into the water first.

Sweat beaded on your forehead as you hovered above it, hands lightly gripping the edge of the pool. 

You dipped your toes in before all at once you sunk into the water, drifting down until your feet touched ground, sighing as you felt the heat rise up to your hips.

The ground was made up of small pebbles and smooth stone, and much nicer on the bottoms of your feet than you’d expected.

There was a ledge underneath, just the right height and length going around the inner edge of the pool on most sides to make a nice enough bench. You waded towards it, settling over the concave surface, ignoring the slight unevenness of it.

You relaxed, going boneless underwater, feeling your face redden as the heat from the water floated up into it, causing a line of sweat to run down your cheek.

With nothing else to you, your eyes drifted over towards Hiccup. He was much the same, though he was a little more out of it.

He really needed it, you supposed. 

You blinked at him as he tilted his head back, exposing freckled skin, much more faded than when you were younger but visible just the same. 

You eyed a multitude of cuts, long and light against his tan, following them down to a long vertical cut by the right side of his chest.

 “What’s on your mind?” Hiccup’s voice brought you back to alertness, breaking the spell the spring seemed to put you under.

You tilted your head back and forth, debating whether or not you should answer.

He followed your eyesight instead, answering the silent question in your eyes.

“That… Axe. Training accident,” He answered, shrugging. You marveled at the casualness of it all.

“...And that one?” 

“Dragon racing. Caught in the side by one of the spikes over Hofferson house,” You nodded. You hadn’t been in town for that one.

“And, I’m guessing, that’s why you guys use more of a track, now?”

Hiccup rubbed his neck sheepishly.

“Where’d you get yours?” He asked

Being able to talk and converse with him like this was great and all, but you were afraid that behind all the mindless platitudes and play-warmth he would finally, finally see you. See deeper than the scars like cracks on your surface, seep right into line lines and stare into your core to somehow find you wanting.

You hunched slightly inwards self consciously.

“Hey, it’s… it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,”

Hiccup drifted towards you, resting his hand on the side of your shoulder. 

You kept your eyes trained downwards, staring at  large groups of bubbles as they rose to the surface, coloring the water an opaque white.

Your exhale blew hotly back into your face, rising up with the steam.

You nodded.

Hiccup hummed under his breath, voice tinted with a hint of confusion.

You pressed your thumbs into his shoulder blades in the dark of your hut, moving with his muscles as he groaned and flexed them backwards.

You felt the outline of lightning scars under his shirt and followed them down lazily, rubbing a path around them, pushing deep into weary muscle through his thick tunic.

Hiccup leaned into it. Again, you moved to accommodate him.

You shifted over your hastily done bed, dull fabric shifting below you.

Afternoon light trickled in through the blinds.

You counted every scar visible above the line of his collar, each cut and scab that formed alabaster marks against peachy-tan skin.

You worked through knots, strains and strains and stresses, watching with a careful eye as Hiccup softened, letting them melt off and away.

You worked your way back up, and down, leaning maybe a bit closer than necessary, feeling your breath on your face as you exhaled into the nape of his neck, lifting your elbow higher in order to get a hard spot a few lengths away from his spine. 

Hiccup let out a breathy sigh. 

You flushed.

You sifted through the assortment of ripe berries in the cart, humming thoughtfully. 

You weren’t quite sure what to buy. Honestly, you didn’t need to buy any at all. You had a large enough stock at home to guarantee you’d not need to buy or forage anything until the next year.

 You would never say it out loud but you were actually out to take inventory. A whole lot of the other Vikings would be displeased to hear about it, you were sure. It was a good way for you to keep stock of what was in store and what you would need to search for on your own. It was how you made your coin. 

It was quite easy, especially when you took advantage of your close proximity to Gothi. Though a tough and harried healer, she was still an elder and it was much more convenient to have the shops travel up towards her. 

Some might have called it ‘taking advantage of the elderly,’ but you were loath to the idea. You didn't upcharge her by too much. Whenever you did up the price, it was much deserved payback for dumping her waste down your side of the mountain. Somehow it always landed on your roof.

You brought your finger to your chin and moved to accommodate a newcomer you sensed by the corner of your eye, careful not to look up at the stall keeper, who was squinting down at you suspiciously. You were afraid he might have been catching on. 

You walked over to a wide array of scales, most likely scavenged from the dropped and shed skins of the dragons who enjoyed roaming around town.

You enjoyed the fresh air, the wind as it flowed over your scalp. You felt light and pleased, one hand held to your back as you pursued the displayed wares.

 There was a nice arranged pyramid of orangish-reddish scales and a set of electric yellow and purple sat above a wrinkled, dull green cloth, and a line of iridescent scales by your right hand.

“You see something you like?” You startled as you heard a voice murmur by your ear. It seemed to be that you were so engrossed in pretending to be invested that you hadn’t noticed as your fellow shoppe leaned into your space. 

You walked to the side, turning so that you were leaning away from her. 

It was a woman, brown hair nearing red, the brightest auburn you’d ever seen in the light, dressed in a thin layer of furs with both hands on her hips. You recognized this woman.

“These came from me,” She exclaimed calmly, voice running off her tongue like thick, gooey honey. 

The stall keeper rolled his eyes, “You’ll get your cut, don’t worry.”

The question must have been obvious in your eyes because Valka smiled, “Oh, yes, I collected those myself, you see.”

You smiled uncomfortably as Valka laughed to herself, finally backing up a tad. 

You straightened your back and your shoulders, exhaling deeply.

Though she was unbalanced from her time away from general society, she was confident and it served her well.

Her swell mood was contagious. You quirked your lips with the urge to join in, though to your chagrin, your own laughter came out more as a breathy uncomfortable chuckle than anything. You were also very much out of practice.

She didn’t seem to notice, though you knew that was most likely a calculated effort. You were glad for it.

“Hello,” You managed an honest smile, “Trying to push sales?”

“I’ve a bit of a vested interest in this shop, I should say,” She said, examining you as if you were a sort of creature from a land she’d never seen before, “Who are you?”

Valka paused, blinking to herself. Before you could respond again, she asked, “What’s your name? What’s your story?”

She didn’t know, you realized with a pang. There was no reason for her to, of course, Hiccup being your only link to each other and the two of you hadn’t been nearly as close as you had been before, as of late, but it still hurt a little. Definitely put a damper on your mood.

You kept up your smile anyways, mimicking her pose.

“I’ve not much of a story to tell, I’m sad to say,” You inclined your head.

“Everyone’s got a story,” Valka insisted, “Even-Oh, it should be-...”

You hummed your question.

“It’s probably wandered off somewhere, the frightful thing… There-! This one’s been pretty helpful,” Valka pointed out behind you, “A bashful thing, helped me bring down some of the wares. He showed up a few months before, well…”

Her eyes unfocused and her stance fell just the smallest bit. You winced with sympathy, remembering how Drago had smothered the island in ice before nearly killing off all of its inhabitants. She was very open about it, especially in the hall, and word spread faster than fire on Berk. It must have been difficult to lose her husband and her Alpha Dragon all in one day.

You shifted, turning following her direction after a moment of solidarity, and froze. 

With its head bowed down, looking guiltily away from across the clearing was a dragon. Your dragon. 

She leaned forwards against you conspiratorially, though this time you didn’t react, even as she whispered loudly in your ear with false secrecy, “It doesn’t hurt to have a bit of extra change on hand, you see. That’s why I’m here.”

“I do see,” You nodded along, though something about your voice was off as you spoke, still staring at your old dragon. Your voice was much too sharp and flat and cracked in all the wrong places.

You blinked away a light burning in your eye, refusing to meet your dragon by the eyes. 

Your heart twinged, ruffled and upset as you were all at once confronted with the reality that you really had been abandoned, though it wasn't as bitter a fruit knowing that it had been, in part, your fault.

“So, you said these scales are on sale?” You cleared your throat, turning back towards the stall with the full intent to ignore the thing as you would a stranger, which it might have very well been. 

“Which would you recommend?” Your eyes refused to focus as you blocked it out of your mind, refusing to acknowledge the faces or manners of any of the people around you. 

It was because of that that you just nearly missed him, approaching down the path to your left, once again clad in dark gray and brown leather.

“Oh, hello, Hiccup!” You called.

“You’re trembling,” Hiccup noted with surprise in his voice as you approached.

“It’s been a while since I rode a dragon,” You admitted balefully, as the two of you strode towards Toothless’ saddle. 

Even before, when you had just gotten yours, you’d had a hard time learning to love being up in the sky. But you pushed through it, because it was what Hiccup loved, and because it was getting to a point where you needed a dragon in order to keep up with everyone else.

You never did talk to anyone about how much it terrified you. 

“Will you be alright?” 

You nodded hesitantly, though privately you weren’t so sure, your heart beating like a drum. 

Hiccup sighed, “We’re just headed to the sea stacks, right?”

“Yeah,” You took a few hesitant, shaking breaths before swinging yourself up on the saddle behind Hiccup, who looked back at you, securing his helmet as if he thought it might be better that he leave you behind, as if you might shatter at the slightest breeze. 

“Thanks for taking me,” You looked away, ears burning shamefully. The things you could forage for on Berk weren’t cutting it. You needed the extra coin.

You jolted suddenly as you took off, alarm racing up and down your spine as you pressed yourself flush to Hiccup. You kept your eyes as straight ahead as possible, knowing that looking down, at the disappearing dow of Berk in the distance, would be your downfall.

You noticed Hiccup kept close to the ocean floor, guiding Toothless only just high enough to cleanly avoid the ocean waves below.

Past the wind rushing through your hair, the pressure plugging your eardrums and the sound of Toothless’ wings beating through the air, you realized that this wasn’t so bad.

Eventually your breathing evened and you were able to loosen up to some degree.

You leaned your head against his neck, arms relaxing slightly around your torso though your front stayed no less melded to his back.

You noticed the two of you had wandered all the way down, strolling the boundary between grazing fields, dotted by sheep, and the closer line of houses to your right.

You were still a slight bit shaken, though you’d made it back with all of your things intact plus extra, which was alright enough.

Hiccup looked back and forth, at where your hut ended just beyond the Great Hall, probably wondering if he should have been the one to walk you back instead.

“I don’t eat down at the hall much,” You looked back, keeping the silent ‘or ever’ to yourself.

“Well, I can understand why,” Hiccup looked to the side, voice sardonic, as the two of you, from a distance, watched Tuffnut and Snotlout wrestling for a plated chicken leg. You weren’t sure how they got so far out from the Great Hall so quickly. As far as you were aware, they didn’t serve food this early.

“Would you?” He asked.

Snotlout was able to pin Tuffnut to the ground, about to take a bit from the leg in his meaty grasp before Tuffnut basked him over the back of his head with the empty plate.

The other Riders were sat around him at the high table.

Hiccup seemed uncomfortable sitting up on the elevated platform reserved for the Chief and company by the forefront of the Great Hall. Out of place. Not quite like he was in shoes he hadn’t grown into yet, as was the saying, but more as if he was standing in front of a pair of shoes that did not belong to him at all.

You asked yourself if he might be more comfortable down with the common folk. 

You sent him a small wave just as the two of you met eyes, Hiccup at once sending a complimentary quirk of the lips back.

You came.

It took you a few days to get there, but eventually you worked up the courage to make it down and to sidle around the heavily concentrated group of Vikings in the open floor of the hall.

Just as I promised. 

You gave him a half-smile, lifting a spoon of stew to your mouth. It had been a while since you had tasted something from the hall. You had to admit it was a taste that you couldn’t replicate, not that you tried. You weren’t sure whether or not it was something you liked.

A crowd of Vikings obscured your vision as they walked past, large mugs and plates in hand.

You stared down at your bowl of stew and the thin slice of bread on the place beside it, wondering if all of this was worth it.

You were surprised when Hiccup settled down in front of you, startling you out of your own musings, plate of his own in hand. 

You peered round him, back at the table to see the rest of the Riders and Gobber back up on the podium. They seemed just as equally confused.

“What brings you down here?” You got the vague idea that it was expected, though not a requirement of the Chief, for Hiccup to sit up by the front table. Something about establishing authority and basking in the attention or something before it wore off, you didn’t care.

It didn’t seem like something Hiccup was interested in, anyways. 

“What, no ‘hello?’”

“Nope,” You popped the ‘p’ as Hiccup pulled out his journal from under his arm, settling it on the table to his side. You stared at brown leather and at all the small bits of parchment sticking out the sides.

“Let me see,” You said, 

“You sure?” Hiccup asked with a crooked smile.

You nodded, beckoning him over to your side of the table, craning your neck as he laid the book out in front of you and settled down besides.

“What’s that?” You pointed downwards, as he began flipping through the pages.

“What, this?”

You hummed, “No, go back.”

Hiccup blinked, and you saw the minor realization wash over his face before he flipped back the page almost reluctantly, revealing a messily sketched out crack in the earth and a crude map of the archipelago with a bunch of x-es littering random regions over the sea. 

“Do you mind if I…?” 

He shook his head no, handing over his notebook as you pushed aside your stew.

You read over some of the notes to the side, furrowing your brow.

“The Caldera,” You said, remembering the old wives tale.

“Yeah,” Hiccup rubbed his neck, “I didn’t mean for you to see it, but what do you think?”

“There’s something about it, I don’t know,” You said, shrugging, “It would be really nice.”

Hiccup scrubbed his neck embarrassedly, “It’s just a fantasy I have sometimes.”

“Is that why you spent so much time wandering?” You nodded your head, taking a sip from the large mug in front of you with hunched shoulders, “It would make a great discovery.”

Hiccup nodded.

You got it. It was unbelievably unrealistic, but that was probably the point. It was something for him to chase after even after everything else became unfamiliar. There was something charming about its unattainability, in a way.

Mead. Maybe it was a comfort you yourself craved.

You barely paid attention as you filled your mug and his, watching as, across the hall and through warm and bustling bodies, Hiccup and Astrid spoke. 

It was with all of the passion of a newly split couple. Though you couldn’t hear everything, you could see the meaningful tilt of Hiccup’s brown, the way his shoulders only moved when he spoke about something worthwhile, and the emotive movement of his hands. 

They were leaning close together by a gaggle of the others, speaking in whispers. It was probably nothing of consequence to you. She was, still, his right hand woman. 

But he looked at her like she hung the stars and wove this very Earth, hanging on to her every word, no matter the severity or banality.

You downed a mug, mead dripping down the corner of your chin. You wiped it off with your chin, lamenting and then going after another. It would take quite a great deal for you to get drunk.

You watched as Astrid walked away, back turned to Hiccup, her side exposed to you, and took note of the way, mouth open as if to speak, he reached out slightly, like he might be able to pull her back by some invisible string.

Your heart beat against itself, rhythm as loud and violent to your ears as the crashing waves outside down by the coast. You ignored it, tucking it away like a book under your pillow in the dark of night. 

You furrowed your brows, picking up another mug and filling it to the brim. It was only considerate, if you were going to drink. 

Your arms were full of mugs by the time you thought to wander back, balanced unevenly in your arms. He might need it just as bad as you did. 

You’d stumbled back to Hiccup’s hut in the dark, chuckling and laughing like a pair who didn’t want to do much besides forget the world around you. 

There was something tense in the air between the two of you despite the physical closeness. You weren’t quite sure when or how the two of you had fallen into each other, or why you thought this was a good idea. 

You gasped through the press of lips and the taste of ale on tongue, backed up against a wooden wall, head pressed back against the hard, uneven surface.

You pulled apart, and Hiccup leaned forwards to rest his forehead against the wall by your head, panting in your ear.

You weren’t sure who you’d slept with and who you hadn’t. Many drunk nights at the Hall, sneaking large mugs of ale and mead into your small, lonely corner meant many mornings slung over beds in houses you weren’t familiar with. Being so disconnected meant it was easy for you to slip out and away without anyone noticing.

But you knew you were here, and you were here now.

You slipped your knee between his legs. He ground down on it.

Your undergarments were up to scratch this time, though you weren’t sure if you needed them.

You felt the rise and quell of feeling and emotion and dead conversation. You searched for something to say, something to soothe, to matter or to not in a way that mattered the way someone did when they knew they weren't great, but wanted to be.

He looked exhausted. Tired from hours on his feet, time he wasn’t allowed to spend alone and a while too long throwing ideas on building, automatic tailfins and infrastructure between the two of you.

Guilt curled around like a tiny worm in your stomach. It was the same feeling you got falling from a high place, the same kind you avoided every time you saw a dragon take off into the air.

You pondered if you should ask, wondering if it was fair to want him to take the first step or back away, hands drifting back and forth underwater. 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” He said, and you weren’t sure why.

You tilted your head, sitting across from Hiccup in the same spring from before. His calf was pressed between your ankles, brushing over scar tissue as Hiccup sandwiched your left ankle between that and his other leg. 

“Me too.” You were sorry, for taking up his time and his space, when all he wanted was something else. You thought he might rather be alone. If that was the case, you knew you would go.

Calves and ankles pressed together, shifting against each other under the water testingly. 

Your face was red, heated by steam. Hiccup looked the same.

You scooted closer. Hiccup shifted forwards on his arms, leaning nearer to you.

You weren’t sure where you stood, since the night you spent together. You didn’t know if it meant anything or not, if it was a tryst born from your interest or Hiccup’s want to forget Astrid. You couldn’t remember.

But.

“Is it…?” He asked, eyes half-lidded.

You drifted forwards, standing up in the spring and met him the rest of the way, thighs slotted together.

Your arms were braced on either side of him underwater, palms resting on the smooth ledge surface.

Hiccup rested his hand on your arm, the other by your waist.

There were too many things between the two of you that went left unsaid. You hoped that one day you’d be able to say them. 

“A-ash…” He breathed into your mouth.

You half-slid, half-climbed down the rocky cliffside, grinning to yourself as Hiccup jogged after, falling slightly behind your enthusiasm.

To be honest, you weren’t so sure about sharing this secret with Hiccup. It felt weighty, like you were putting it to bed somehow and you weren’t sure you liked that, not ready to give up your reprieve.

It was private to you, but also, maybe it would be worth it, to share something so nice with someone else. There was a low chance he hadn’t seen it yet anyways. Soon, the others would find out and all the other Vikings would start funneling in, you were sure.

You slid to a stop just barely in time, backtracking with your arms out, stumbling back-first into Hiccup.

The two of you fell backwards, Hiccup falling into a set of bushes stationed behind you.

“Oh, ow,”

“Are you alright?” You asked him, as you separated, quickly scooting over and peering down at him as he pulled himself from the fanning ferns. 

The two of you were surrounded by rocks and fauna, world dark and blue in a way that felt fresh and new and freeing. 

This ledge was one that was difficult to get to unless you knew the way, which you won through hard-earned practice and exploration. 

The grass under you was cold, and wet from dew, But that was one of the many things you ceased to notice once you peered over the edge, at the beginning of a beautiful flickering.

“I’m alright,” Hiccup smiled, rubbing his head. You tried to look around him as if you might be able to see the back of it from the angle you were sitting.

“Look,” You pointed forwards with a breathy grin, as Hiccup settled himself beside you, your legs hanging limply over the side of the clifface.

He followed your direction, and he breathed. You could see the exact moment he looked down into the waters, calmer than they should be, always seeming flat and unassuming in this area.

You watched him focus, taken in by the mesmerizing sight.

Tiny dragons lit up the sea below, blinking pale pinks and greens and blues under the shifting water, looking very much like small, twinkling gems by the sand.

It was what you assumed was a mix between the glowing algae left over from the Flightmare’s time in the archipelago and the new, different kinds of dragons flooding Berk.

The two of you relaxed into the scene, calming in a way you were hard pressed to calm anywhere else. Maybe you had made the right call. 

It was a while before either of you would break the silence

“I…” Hiccup started, he looked at you with open eyes, “I…”

You perked up slightly, turning your head by the most minute degree, watching him from the corner of your eye. You waited, giving him time to articulate himself.

“...I miss…” 

His eyes twinkled, lights dancing in the shine of them, moving back and forth with the lights below. You softened in them, twisting so you were looking at him directly. 

You wondered what he missed. You wondered if it was something to quell or nurture the beating blooming jittering feeling growing in your chest.

“Them,” Hiccup said finally, lamely, before stopping, leaning against your shoulder. 

At the last moment, he looked away, pulling his hands off the ground and you read something a little like shame on his face as he said it, or on as much face as you could see, carefully tilted away from you.

You were sure you knew who, or whom he meant. 

You remembered how he looked at Astrid the other night as she walked away. How something in his eyes just seemed to storm. 

You remember how glum he was, still was, after the passing of his father, tall and mighty in a way that seemed to make him immortal.

You were glad. Just glad, and disappointed, in equal measure. But also you also couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that he hadn’t said something else.

You leaned back with equal weight onto his shoulder, though instead of feeling any sort of the warmth or amity you should have felt- or peace, like you usually did, staring down at the swirling lights, dancing with the currents- you just felt empty.

You took in the rustling of leaves behind you, the chittering and splashing of small dragons as they leapt out of the water, filling the air below with a colorful, glowing spray. Anything but the man besides you. The Chief, now.

“I know.”

[o-sachi]

You're My Sunshine - Various Blue Lock

ᯓ blue lock characters with a cheerful and upbeat s/o ᯓ characters; various blue lock chars. ᯓ tags; fluff, sfw, gn reader, no y/n

[🐟]: Trying out a different format for HCs 'cuz I feel like this works better for this request.

Sunshine x Sunshine

This is perhaps the healthiest of healthy relationships. Being around each other simply feels light and easy because they understand each other by heart. Both of you have a positive outlook on life, wanting to pursue happiness together every step of the way. Most likely, this relationship was a result of a strong foundation of friendship.

You two are always playful with each other, finding ways to keep the spark alive by being spontaneous and adventurous with your relationship. You like randomly bursting into a duet in the middle of cooking dinner or going on picnic dates on a weekend afternoon.

There's a good line of communication between the two of you that keeps the relationship afloat at all times. Although, between important conversations would be a lot of laughter, inside-jokes, and flirty banter. There's never a dull moment between the two of you; that's for sure. And warning: HE WILL TEASE YOU A LOT.

He thinks you're the brightest and most beautiful thing in this world. He'll make sure that you never forget he thinks so. And he will compliment you like craaaazy. He's so downbad for you (wholesome-ly).

Affection—both verbally and physically—are expressed freely and frequently. Neither of you feel the need to hold back on it. You always make it your goal to express your appreciation for each other as you continue to support and push each other forward. It's pretty much a relationship that cultivates growth while being genuinely happy. The type of relationship everyone dreams of, basically.

Isagi, Bachira, Ness, Hiori, Niko, Kurona, Nanase, Charles, Lavinho

Sunshine x Sunshine Protector

Not exactly an opposites attract situation... most of the time at least. But it's more so that he likes to take on the duty to protect you and uphold your well-being at all times. He just thinks you're so precious—vulnerable to the cruelty of the world—and would gladly carry the burden of protecting you from all of that on his back.

It's a bit of mystery to you how he can be closed off to the world but so tender and loving with you. But, hey, why are you going to complain about that? Besides, if you do ask him, he'll just grunt at you and ignore it. Deep down he's having a crisis about it though. The tough guy facade is well-practiced after all.

He isn't the best with words, but he makes up for it through other ways—touch, quality time, acts of services, and so on. He'll gladly sacrifice himself if it meant making you happy. He's so deep down the rabbit hole (which is you), but will never admit it... unless you beg him nicely.

Although, he does offer words of reassurance. They come off as rather... stiff. Their words lack a bit of warmth, but they serve to provide you comfort either way. It's mostly because it sounds like advice—practical words. But sometimes all you need are sweet words to get rid of the fleeting worry. Don't fret; they'll get better somehow.

But there will be the rare times when you give him support and reassurance. Of course, he won't say so—you'll just notice it after being with him for so long. He'll be a bit averted to the idea at first, but will warm up to it soon enough. The strength of your relationship lies in this mutual respect and desire to uplift each other especially in each other's lowest moments.

Kunigami, Barou, Karasu, Kaiser, Gagamaru, Raichi, Sendou, Snuffy

Sunshine x Grumpy

This was one hell of a slow-burn. But was it worth it? Hell yeah. Your dynamic is almost the same as sunshine x sunshine protector, but he's a lot more subtle with his "protecting" and best belief he will deny all softie allegations because of it.

But that's exactly what he is—a big softie for you and for you only. But since he's emotionally constipated, he shows his love in... strange ways, but he swears it's normal. He'll act like he doesn't care most of the time, but he'll always have his eye on you. He'll always reject your silly requests, but will humor you eventually when you start showing those puppy dog eyes (his weakness).

THERE WILL BE TONS OF BANTER. But it will mostly be you laughing and him groaning. You like to tease him a lot, causing him to reward you with the nickname "brat". He says so affectionately, of course. Sometimes he'll even tease you back just to shut you up. It works like magic by the way.

One thing he hates the most is to see you cry and he hates it even more if he was the reason for those tears. As much as you don't want to fall apart in front of him—there are rare moments when his callousness gets to you. Suddenly, he no longer cares about keeping up his icy exterior; he'd drop it all for you. He'll scoop you up in his arms and tell you the sweetest things he had never uttered before in his life.

He sincerely thinks you're the best thing in his life. Even though he's so cold and detached, you managed to melt away some of that ice. You balance each other well and that's what keeps the relationship going.

Rin, Sae, Noel

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm into normal dudes and women with blue hair

HAPPY DRAGON APPRECIATION DAY! Honestly, this is 100% a joke. But in a still sort of serious way. I wrote this literally today between work things and hockey things and life things, but I needed to post it today so it isn't edited and honestly it is very rushed. But it's fun! It's meant to be silly and goofy! This is for the girl with the dragon au herself, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation . Eddie would do everything in his power to fuck a dragon, especially if it's Steve, and I think you will agree with me on that. I hope this makes you laugh a little bit 💖 - Mickala

rated m | 2786 words | cw: implied sexual content, kinda sorta implied monsterfucking ? | tags: dragon steve harrington, crack fic not treated that seriously, friends to lovers, getting together, first kiss, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington

🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲🐲

Steve doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not the flu or a cold. If it’s something serious, he’s gonna pretend it’s not. If it’s something Upside Down related, he’s probably gonna die, so it is what it is.

He just feels so warm on the inside, almost feverish, but his skin is fine. A little dry, maybe. Kinda cracked like it’s the middle of winter and he ran out of lotion. And he swears that he’s grown an inch. Maybe more. His pants are hitting above his ankle where they used to be just below.

Maybe it’s just heartburn. He did eat that taco with extra hot sauce last night, and bodies are weird or whatever.

He’s at work when his back starts hurting. He’s used to some pain in his muscles and bones, especially after the last bout with the Upside Down. He’s got chronic pain according to doctors, but it’s really not that bad unless he sleeps wrong or stands for too long on hard flooring or it rains or-

Well, it’s pretty bad a lot, actually, but this is different.

His legs start to cramp during his break, and he decides maybe it is the flu. His shift doesn’t end for another three hours, but he’s not sure he can make it that long on his feet.

He says that to Keith, who somehow managed to get a supervisor position at Melvald’s after everything despite not showing any effort in actually working. He rolls his eyes and complains about Steve trying to get out of working, says he’s never gonna become a team lead if he keeps avoiding finishing a shift.

Nevermind the fact that Steve has rarely ever left a shift early, even when he couldn’t see straight from a migraine or walk from his knee joints rubbing together until he was sure they would start a fire.

But he leaves, and he feels exhausted the moment he gets in his car, and he wonders how he’s going to get home.

The burning in his chest gets worse as he drives. His vision goes blurry and then suddenly extremely clear. He can see everything. There’s water droplets on the car in front of him, but it hasn’t rained. That’s weird.

Almost as weird as being able to see water droplets from his own car when he could barely read the license plate on the car for the first few miles that he was behind them.

He parks in his driveway and gets out of his car. The world spins a little.

He gets inside his house and collapses on his couch.

Everything goes black.

****

“Okay. So we just aren’t gonna call anyone else about this?” Robin’s voice breaks through Steve’s consciousness, and he blinks his eyes open. “No one else should know about Steve no longer being human?”

Steve finds that to be a concerning statement.

“I’m not sure what anyone else is gonna be able to do about his current situation!” Eddie whisper-yells.

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a weird growl.

And then everything else hits him.

He is much larger than when he passed out. He looks down and realizes the concerning words Robin spoke are even more concerning than he originally thought.

He growls again, louder.

“Okay, Steve? Stay calm. You appear to be a dragon. But like, that’s kinda par for the course! Like, I’m sure it’s temporary!” Robin is rambling and she is loud and the room is so bright. He’s not even sure how he still fits in the room.

“I just think if we called Hopper, he could at least figure out who needs to know!” Eddie ignores Steve’s growling.

Apparently, he can’t fucking speak, and he’s a dragon. So that’s cool, and he’s so glad he left work early so he didn’t have to explain becoming a flying fantasy creature to Keith or a random shopper. That would be quite a conversation.

“This is so bad. He can’t talk!” Robin ignores Eddie’s suggestion, which isn’t a bad one at all in Steve’s opinion. Eddie’s actually very logical and smart most of the time. Turns out when he’s not being wrongfully hunted by the cops, he’s a pretty chill dude. “Steve, can you write?”

Steve blinks and he feels something burning in his chest.

“Of course he can’t write!” Eddie exclaims. “He has claws!”

Steve tilts his head down and realizes Eddie’s right. He doesn’t have hands. He’s got claws. Sharp ones.

He makes a noise that sounds closer to a whimper than a growl, and the room goes quiet.

“Are you in pain?” Robin asks.

Steve looks at her concerned eyes, her bitten-red lips, her anxiously wringing hands. She’s gotta calm down before she has a full-blown panic attack.

He shakes his head once before leaning forward to gently nudge her hands with his nose.

God, this is weird.

“This is so fucking weird,” Eddie says under his breath. Steve’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have heard it if he were human.

Steve tilts his head so his nose nudges against Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie lets out a strangled laugh before he reaches a hand up to touch Steve’s neck.

“This is unreal.”

Steve finally recognizes the burning feeling as fire. He’s a dragon. He’s gonna breathe fire. This is so fucking strange.

He pushes up and somehow manages to turn his body until he’s facing the window. He won’t be able to open it without breaking it, so he hopes Robin or Eddie figure out his intentions. He’d really like to not burn his house down.

Eddie seems to catch on quickly, rushing to make room between Steve’s face and the window. He unlocks it and throws it open, hurrying away from Steve’s mouth.

Fire pours from him for nearly ten whole seconds.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie says when he’s done. “Does that hurt?”

Steve shakes his head again. If anything, it relieves him of that burning sensation that’s been in his chest all day. He feels lighter.

He’s still a dragon, though.

That’s a pretty big issue.

“Okay. Alright. We call Hopper. We swear him to secrecy. If the kids find out-“

“Dustin can never know about this. He’ll be insufferable during campaigns,” Eddie says, one hand caressing Steve’s scaly skin. It feels nice, soothing. Human Steve hasn’t had a caring touch in a while, so it might feel even better than usual. “But what if they find out anyway? What if he stays like this forever?”

Great question. Steve definitely wants to know the answer to that.

“Well, dragon and human marriage isn’t technically illegal, so I guess you’ll have your happily ever after,” Robin says.

Steve’s head swivels and he hears a crash.

Eddie’s hand is no longer touching him and that’s a shame because it felt really nice and it’s a pretty good distraction from the fact that he’s a very large dragon.

”What the fuck, Buckley.”

“God! I ramble when I’m nervous!” Robin is apologizing and Steve is wishing more than ever that he could talk. He needs to understand what the hell she means. “I’m gonna go call Hopper before I say something I shouldn’t.”

Eddie’s pacing the floor in the very small space that exists around Steve’s body.

Actually, he decides now is as good a time as any to take a look at what’s going on. He can feel how big he is, but it doesn’t really register until he turns his head to see the wide expanse of his body. He doesn’t see wings, which is bullshit. If he has to be a dragon, he should get wings, right? Eddie always draws them with wings. His tail is spiked, but not nearly as long as he expected it to be.

Damn, is he a disappointing dragon?

“Dude, I dunno what she was talking about with the marriage thing. Sorry if that made something weird.” Eddie is rambling now and Steve is focusing back on him instead of the way his chest and belly seem to be much more durable than the rest of his skin. There’s a lot to unpack with this development. “I’m not into dragons. I’m into normal dudes and women with blue hair. Probably also dudes with blue hair. But, normal dudes do it for me. Like you usually are my top pick. Oh fuck.”

Steve huffs what should be an amused laugh, but ends up just being a half-snort.

“I mean not that you aren’t kind of hot like this!” Eddie rushes to say. “If dragons were hot, you would be the hottest dragon around. In fact, there’s a voice in my brain that’s very curious about how this would work like…sexually. But obviously that can’t happen. It won’t happen! I’m sorry. I’m shutting up. Maybe even leaving.”

Steve’s mind is reeling. He’s even more frustrated that he can’t speak now that Eddie’s clearly talking himself into a hole he might not be able to climb back out of.

He didn’t even realize he was Eddie’s type. He didn’t even know Eddie was his type until a few weeks ago! And now he can’t do anything about it because he’s a dragon.

He huffs again, but this time in frustration.

“Hop’s on his way!” Robin yells as she walks back into the room. With both of them and Steve taking up almost the entire room, Steve notices how hot it’s getting.

“One of us should probably tell Nancy. She’s gonna want to know about this,” Eddie suggests. “And she likes you way more so it should probably be you.”

“I’m not leaving Steve right now. He’s in the middle of the biggest crisis of his life.”

Steve grunts. This is surprisingly not the biggest crisis of his life. Top three, maybe.

He nudges Robin towards the door with his nose. Her panic is too much for him right now, and Eddie’s is a different panic. He can handle Eddie.

“You want me to go?” Robin clarifies.

Steve nods his head once. More than once is a chore. His head is so heavy.

“Fine, but I’m coming right back after. I’m not letting you be a dragon alone,” Robin says before rushing out the door.

Steve looks over at Eddie and feels his whole body shiver.

What the hell is that about?

“Are you hungry…or thirsty…or anything else?” Eddie asks awkwardly.

Steve’s good. He doesn’t feel any pain for the first time in a long time. He isn’t hungry or thirsty. He shivers again.

“Are you cold?” Eddie must notice, stepping so close that all Steve can smell is whatever cologne Eddie wore today and his leather jacket. “I can shut the window.”

Steve leans his head down, nudges his nose against Eddie’s neck.

He jumps.

“Cold,” he breathes out. “Are you okay?”

Steve wants to tell him yes. He’s inconvenienced, but he’s okay.

He nods once.

“I can wait outside?” Eddie offers.

Steve shakes his head. He shivers.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Uh. I think maybe you need to be outside.”

Eddie walks to his shoulder, touches just past what would normally be his shoulder blade.

It’s almost too much when Eddie’s fingers brush against the leathery skin there. Steve lets out a rumbling noise, something between a growl and a moan. He isn’t sure if dragons can moan, but he assumes they can be turned on, and Eddie’s touch seems to be doing that.

“You have wings,” Eddie’s voice is awed. “I don’t even know how to get you out the door. God, what if you’re stuck in here? Like a caged bird. I’ll break a wall or something. Wayne could patch up something for you. But the neighbors…”

Steve feels it more definitely now: wings trying desperately to spread behind him.

He probably should be outside. He can’t be right now, not here, but they have to figure that out if he doesn’t change back soon.

“Okay. It’ll be late enough in the next hour, we could probably get the sliding glass doors out of the way and maybe you could-” Steve cuts him off with a nudge to his neck. “I wish you could tell me what you’re thinking.”

Steve wishes that, too. He’s not sure how he’s gonna get out of this predicament without explaining what he does know, and he can’t do that if he can’t talk.

Eddie rests his head against Steve’s shoulder, and it can’t be comfortable, but he stays there as he fills the silence. Sometimes, Eddie talks too much. Right now, Steve’s glad he has things to say.

“...And Wayne insisted I tell you, but he doesn’t understand that you’re not into guys. He keeps saying you probably just never considered it an option, but that’s probably not true. I mean, you and Tommy were close and it seems like maybe if you were gonna be into dudes, he’d be your type.”

Steve huffs and Eddie laughs.

“Okay, okay. So he wouldn’t be your type. Tom Cruise?”

Steve knocks his jaw against the top of Eddie’s head. He’s gentle because he already recognizes the damage he could do if he wasn’t.

“Knew it,” Eddie sighs. “I have about as much in common with Tom Cruise as Wayne does.”

It’s quiet for a minute. Steve wishes he could say something, tell Eddie that he does think Tom Cruise is hot, but he finds Eddie beautiful, and that difference is important. He wishes he could tell Eddie that he doesn’t find Tom Cruise interesting, doesn’t think he would enjoy listening to him talk about campaigns and music and whatever random fact he read in a book.

Eddie’s head turns, and his mouth is brushing against Steve’s scales. He can’t believe he has scales.

And then he doesn’t.

He feels lightheaded, the room goes black, and when he opens his eyes again, he’s on the floor with his head propped in Eddie’s lap.

His human head.

Attached to his human body.

“Steve? Jesus Christ. Are you okay?” Eddie’s too loud.

Steve raises his hand and pats Eddie’s cheek, smiling up at him. “Can’t believe you would fuck me as a dragon.”

Eddie cackles. There’s no other word for the hysterical laughter he can’t seem to control from bursting out of him.

“I would fuck you as anything, I think,” he says when he finally calms down. He isn’t looking away from Steve and Steve isn’t looking away from him.

He’s suddenly exhausted, and he’s sure that whatever his body just went through is going to take some major recovery. Steve closes his eyes and holds Eddie’s hand against his chest.

“Tell Hop I started feeling warm inside and then grew and became a dragon,” he mumbles, yawns, smacks his lips together as he settles more in Eddie’s lap. “Might happen again.”

“Right. Should I take you to the hospital?” Eddie sounds far away now.

“Nope.”

Eddie leans down to kiss his forehead, brushes the hair from Steve’s face. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m fine,” Steve blinks his eyes open, uses every ounce of energy he has left to do it. “Am I a normal dude?”

Eddie’s forehead crinkles. “What do you mean?”

“You said you were into normal dudes. Is that me?”

Eddie tenses under him.

“You’re a normal dude, yeah.”

“So you’re into me?” Steve closes his eyes again. “Enough to kiss me?”

“I cannot believe this is happening. This night has to be a dream. Or someone finally got their hands on me and killed me.”

“I like dudes who like dragons,” Steve says, smiling lazily as he curls up his body to fight off the cold. He realizes he’s naked, and should probably cover up before Hopper gets here, but he doesn’t want to move. “And dudes who play guitar and ramble when they’re nervous.”

“Oh,” Eddie gasps. “So…you like me?”

“Kiss me before I change my mind.”

Steve’s too tired to put much into the kiss, but Eddie leads, and it’s perfect. There’s not much he can do about his dick getting hard when Eddie deepens the kiss and runs his hands down his sides. He’s exhausted, but his dick isn’t.

Eddie manages to get them to the couch, and Steve manages not to fall asleep until after Eddie’s gotten him off. The mess can wait, but Eddie throws a blanket over them when he hears a car door slam and boots walking up to the door.

“Did you get high or was Steve really a dragon?” Hopper asks as Steve loses his battle with the exhaustion.

Hopefully he wakes up human, but he thinks even if he doesn’t, Eddie will still be into him.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Gym Headcanons - Lisa & Ningguang x Male!Reader

A/N: I hope you'll like this one! All the others WIPs are staring daggers at me though... CW: Nothing notable.

Going to a gym? Lisa will pass, thank you. 

All the sweat and all the effort could, if she had to exert herself at all, go towards other things than gaining muscles. What would she use them for anyway? Her strength doesn't come from raw, brutish power, but rather from her brilliance and knowledge. 

For Lisa, getting some gains would be a bad thing as far as her appearance is concerned. She feels great as she is - of healthy weight with some delectable fluff on her belly, thighs and butt. A girl's got to have some meat on her bones, doesn't she? It's perfect for touching and resting your weary head on those plushy thighs. She won't ruin that especially since you're far from complaining about her assets. 

Even if she won't train, Lisa will care for her diet, and will keep an eye on yours too if you ask her to. She'll buy more of her natural yogurts, fruits, granola and other healthy foodstuffs. You'll be in good hands - Lisa will buy you shakes and foods with lots of protein to help build that dazzling body of yours. 

If at any point you find yourself tempted to cheat, she’ll gently remind you of your goal and help you resist. 

She's a vegetarian herself, but will not, to any extent of the word, force her views upon you. She just dislikes the taste of meat, especially when it's fried. The heartburn she feels after is straight up awful. Still, she won't object to making you hearty meals with all the love she has. After all, she has all the time in the world. 

Although she wouldn't ever come to the gym herself, it's different with you there. Lisa will gladly tag along to keep you company whenever she can. She won't hesitate to do her research, helping you in maintaining the proper position and form as you train. Need a break? She'll pass you the water and take away the weights (according to her ability). Feeling tired or bored? Lisa will be there, keeping a conversation or reading out loud to you - this way you train both your mind and your body. She'll get you whatever help she can offer. 

Is she accompanying you to gawk at your bare chest, your tensing, sweaty muscles, hear your masculine groans of exertion as you lift inhuman weights and give it your all? See you doing what men do, pushing yourself to the limit to become bigger, better, faster and stronger? Perhaps. Is that an invalid reason? Not at all. 

After a certain amount of these trips, the mage will start eyeing the exercise mats with increasing curiosity. Of course she wouldn't do any actually tiring exercises, but it wouldn't hurt to stretch a little, would it? Being flexible has a few uses Lisa can't think of, most of which involve you~

The first few times would render her limbs and joints crying in pain as years of “rust” come off. It would surely leave her grumpy the next day, but it's alright - you'll do your duty and massage her pains away, won’t you? 

When going at them, Lisa likes to do stretches that let her poor back get some lovely relief. Every time she begins the cobra stretches of the day, she can't help but sigh in satisfaction. The first one's the best, no doubt about that. On the other hand, those exercises that require her to lean down are the cause of her pains rather than the relief. Toe touches aren't easy, and things like forward folds are the stuff of nightmares, the mere thought of which is enough to make her spine ache.

Ningguang isn't one to work out either. She’s on a strict diet, planned out for her by the best dietitian and cooked by the best chef Mora can buy. Each of her meals has its calories counted to the letter, and - should the situation demand it - Ningguang is capable of counting them herself. Even when there's no label, she's able to judge it with impressive accuracy. 

It's thanks to this attentive lifestyle that she can flaunt her wasp waist. Even if a person's worth is more in merit than appearance, impeccable beauty can go a long way too. Oftentimes just her looks alone can charm an interlocutor, leading to favorable outcomes. 

Eating this little has a downside, coming in the form of low energy levels. She can push pencils all day long, but even short jogs can find her out of breath after a while. Ningguang gets tired and sore fairly easily, making it no surprise that she avoids straining herself. 

She avoids training, but that doesn't mean she simply sits around looking pretty. Each of her mansions is equipped with a rich and well stocked gym for use at yours and hers leisure. Before you came they were mostly gathering dust, but your interest in training reminded her of that purchase. It was nice to see they finally had a use. 

Sometimes, on a slow day, Ningguang will bring out her sport gear and join you in the training room. Most of her time she'll do stretches or use the treadmill, since these don't increase muscle mass that much - the high class canon of beauty doesn't include muscle girls, nor does she see the appeal if truth is told. She's the Tianquan, not some… sea captain. 

Besides, that would be threading on your territory. Why be muscular if you're the muscle man here? If you're strong, then she'll be swift and agile. Perfectly complementary, wouldn't you say? 

When it comes to date ideas, a gym date is a unique one to be sure, but she doesn't mind. It gives both of you a chance to show off your hard earned physiques and spend some quality time together. Ningguang enjoys you spotting for her, even if she won't do the exercises by herself. The attention is always appreciated. 

She wouldn't admit that to anyone, but she enjoys goofing around with you. Using her as a dumbbell or doing push-ups with her casually sitting on your back is both amusing and quite flustering - getting a first hand experience of your strength never fails to get her a little red. But don't tell anyone, or else…!

Sometimes when she needs to think, Ningguang visits you and simply enjoys your presence in silence. There's something hypnotic about you going about your business and the repetitive motions of the equipment. Many times she watched you in silence, only to mutter a silent ‘got it’ before getting up and thanking you with a kiss. Each time after she left the room you were left fairly confused. Confused, but happy to be of help nonetheless.

Thanks for reading!

[papurgaatika]

Keep A Leftover Light Burning

Pairing: joel miller x Ceramicist! reader

MINORS DNI WITH MY WORKS PLEASE !!

A/N: howdy howdy and welcome all now this is a very special fic for @burntheedges for the @pedrostories secret santa event!! I hope you like it and find it as fun as i did. I think this isnt a trope that we see very often, but after a healthy dose of tiktoks (and watching the scene from ghost again) this came into being. As always thank you to my beloveeeeeeed @carlynkurin for beta reading, and peace and love on the planet earth from me, xoxo Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! tags: Ceramicist reader, smut, porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), publicish sex, strangers to lovers, lots of wet clay, joels arms require their own tag Word count: 3.4k Summary: Sarah forces joel to go take a day to himself, pushing him in the direction of your pottery studio. Despite calling yourself professional and priding yourself on your morals, you can’t help but… fantasize about the man in front of you. 

Joel needs to take time for himself. He’s always on, always ready to go at the flip of a switch,  never taking time to sit and breathe. Everyone knows how hard he works, and despite what he says, Sarah knows that he needs to do something calming. Something that doesn’t involve carving wood or going to the shooting range with Tommy on the off chance that both of them are free for long enough. So being the perfect daughter that she is, she enrolls him in a ceramics workshop that she had gone to once. It was a small studio, tucked away next to the Palace Theatre in downtown Georgetown, soft and quaint in the suburbs, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Sarah managed to get a hold of you over the phone and explain the situation, a smile threatening to creep onto your cheeks at the sheer amount of care she had for her father. You tell her not to worry about the price and that you would stay open for an extra hour next weekend just to get him in, a squeal on the other side is all the confirmation you need as you pencil it into your schedule. 

Sunday rolls around and Joel… Well, he was being Joel. Stubborn and groaning as Sarah essentially pushes him out the door to make the drive up IH-35, complaining about “I build things for a living,” and “it’ll be a waste of time.” but Sarah is hearing none of it and one look from her has Joel slipping on his boots. In any other circumstance, he would have praised her for holding her ground, but right now he just sighs and gets into his truck realizing just how much of his stubbornness had rubbed off on her. 

He ends up at the studio just before 5, the sun starting to dip under the horizon, casting beautiful pinks and oranges around the sky. He’s still bitching and moaning as he makes his way to the building, taking a deep breath as he steps inside. You barely even hear the jingle of the little bell above your door, too busy fighting with your sink: now clogged with clay from your last class with 3 kids under ten who didn't understand that when you told them not to dump clay inside the sink. You had meant it. “Fucking thing!” you groan, poking a paintbrush into the drain, hoping to get enough clay out of it so that it would run again. 

Joel stares at you, half confused and half amused with the scene in front of him; your hair a mess, your apron covered in clay and paint, hacking into your sink in ways that he knows won't do you any good. He clears his throat after watching you struggle for about 30 seconds, stifling a smirk when you jump and look back at him. “Need some help? I’m s’possed to have a class now- my daughter-” he shakes his head at the idea of sharing the whole story again “Did I get the wrong time?” 

You look absolutely mortified, dropping the paintbrush in the basin and giving the man in front of you a weak smile “No! No, I just got a little... occupied… you’re on time” You wipe your hands on the front of your apron, not even bothering to attempt to fix your hair, before walking over to greet him. Properly this time. “You must be Joel. Your daughter was very persuasive on the phone.” 

Joel’s smirk shifts into a full-blown smile at the mention of Sarah, the pride he has for the girl shining through. “Yeah, she’s a good one.” he praises. Despite his reluctance to listen to her advice, he knows just how good her heart is, and how much she cares about him. I “Ain't sure what she told ya, and to be honest she hasn't told me what I'm s’possed to be doing here either”

You can't help but smile at his words, the pure adoration for his daughter combined with the slight nervousness in his voice was endearing in ways you weren’t sure how to describe. “No worries, I promise it isn’t anything scary.” You glance around the studio. Outside, the sky had begun to darken, the soft lighting of the different lamps inside the building casting the both of you in a warm glow. The glaze on the ceramics you had on display was a wide assortment of colors: intricately painted motifs, bright splashes of colors, silly cartoons, almost anything you could think of. You pick up a faded apron and hand it to him, watching him stretch as he puts it on. A brief flicker of guilt passes through you as you ogle him, but then you see the way his biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt and the guilt gives way to something primitive. 

He turns back around and you look away with a cough, a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks when he raises his brows at you. “Right um-” you stumble over your words, more unrefined than you would have liked to be “Sorry, sorry. We’ll start with choosing what you’ll want to make. I always recommend something easy, like a bowl or a spoon rest..” you pick up a pencil cup that had been painted to look like a pencil and a spoon rest that was a simple blue color, to show him “I already have the clay prepped so we can get started straight on th-” 

Joel cuts you off as he glances around the studio, pointing at a lidded cookie jar “That one.” His words leave no room for argument but certainly bring questions up to the surface. “I'm gonna do that one.” You had been making ceramics for years, starting with air-dry clay in school, continuing to use the wheel throughout university, and eventually quitting your day job to start the studio. You knew the skill level it took to make a jar, the precision and technique to keep it balanced, and it just wasn’t a beginner project. 

“I'm sorry, the cookie jar?” You try not to let your voice betray your disbelief. It wasn't that you lacked faith in the man in front of you, you made sure to be confident in all of your clients, it was simply an issue of skill. “I don't know if that’s the one for you to start out with, it’s a little advanced-” 

But Joel was having none of it. If he was going to be forced to sit here and make something to “calm him down” then damn it it was going to be something that takes skill and effort. Something that he could bring home to Sarah and brag about slightly. Was it a little strange that he wanted to one-up his daughter and prove that he didn't need to be here? Maybe a little bit, but he didn't dwell on it. “Yes ma'am.” His voice is set in the decision. “I'm sure it can't be that bad, let me at it.” 

Never one to truly tell people no, you simply nod and get the prepared clay out. It was soft and slippery, staining your hands a taupe color as you brought it to the wheel, plopping it down on the wheel, and pressing down on the sides to make sure it stuck. “Alright, so with the jar..” you gesture for him to take a seat in front of the wheel, moving to stand behind him “It’ll be a little bit more involved than something simple, but you're in good hands I promise.” Your words are soft, and frankly, you were excited. You didn't throw fun projects with clients as much as you’d like to anymore, focusing more on teaching the basics, so this was honestly a welcomed surprise. “We’ll just start with getting the basic shape of it, you’ll take your hands like this, and we’ll work it up.” 

You sit on your stool behind him, usually, you’d be able to reach around and help with hand placement but good god was he broad. You adjust and readjust your position a few times, finding it oddly difficult to find the right mix between comfort and functionality, eventually ending up with your legs spread a little bit past their comfort level, so that you could lean over his shoulder and help him with the shaping. You squeeze some water onto his hands, moving them to cup the base of the clay and pop the wheel to life. His hands were big under your smaller ones, the roughness contrasting both the soft clay and your skin. You can't help but feel a twinge of something stirring inside you as you help him bring the clay up and down, your hands guiding his. Joel’s brows were knit together in concentration, both endearing and attractive as you watched him focus on the clay. The movements of his hands under yours were careful, almost hesitant, his eyes peeking back at you every so often for assurance. 

Once the clay was at an appropriate size you moved your hands off of his, the wheel slowing to a stop. You swear that you see his hands twitch to stay under yours, but your mind might be playing tricks on you. “Now call me unartistic but this ain't really lookin’ like a cookie jar yet.” Joel raises his brows, a slight hint of teasing hidden in his southern drawl, and you can’t help but snort at the comment.

“I will not call you unartistic, it isn't supposed to look like a jar yet.” You hum and wipe your hands on your apron “We’ll do the lid to it later, but you have to actually make it into a bowl first.” your thumbs gently press down onto the center of the clay to form a soft dent. The wheel starts back up again slowly and you start to open the center up a little bit. “Right so now you just gotta take your thumbs like I did and- perfect!” Joel manages to press his fingers slowly against the clay, working it open, and god you wished that was you more than anything at that moment. You press on the sponge, the water dripping down his hand and onto the clay, almost sensually. Your eyes are locked on the way his thumb dips into the clay, the way the clay comes up onto his skin. Your mouth is dry, and you cough as you stand up, needing to take a deep breath and try to compose yourself. 

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel's voice rings out from behind you as you move to take a drink of water, and you swear if his voice was just a tinge deeper, you would have choked right then and there. In the rush of getting up, your brain had ceased to realize that moving off the pedal would stop the wheel from turning.

You feel like an idiot. A stupid, hormonal, completely unprofessional idiot. You take a moment to scold yourself mentally before turning around to face him again. “Yeah, yes. Sorry I just realized how thirsty I was, I just needed water.” You move back to your stool behind him, halfway composed, and move to start the next step. If you'd been in front of him for one more second, you would have seen the knowing smile on his face. There was no denying the attraction between the two of you. Pressed up against each other, hands touching, dim light surrounding you both, it was inevitable. You move your hand to show him the right finger position “so you’ll want to take your middle and ring finger-” You press the two of yours inside of the bowl to give him an example and you swear he laughs a little bit. 

“Oh, believe me, darlin” his voice rings out, big fingers expertly finding their way into the exact position. “I know all about this one.” You watch his fingers glide up and down the inside of the bowl, your hand on top of his, steadying his wrist. You bite at your lip, fingers shaking slightly on top of his. Your chest was pressed against his back and you could feel your nipples hardening. You were annoyingly turned on. This wasn’t normal for you, this wasn't something you do, get the hots for a client, but here you were. And with the way Joel's fingers were methodically moving over yours, you were begging that he felt the same way. “Wouldn’t mind showin’ ya all I know about it.” The want in his voice makes you clench subconsciously, your breath faltering for a second. 

You hold your breath for a moment as if trying to make sure you hadn’t imagined his words in a haze of horniness, only to be broken out of that haze when he shifts and pushes his stool back, and turns around to face you. Both of your hands were covered in wet clay and your aprons were messy, neither of which stopped you from pressing your lips against his. You sigh against his mouth as your hand's fist in the fabric of his shirt, staining the fabric with readily drying clay. “I don't usually do this,” you murmur when you pull away for air, your lips swollen and red. 

Joel just grins at your words “S’alright, honey,” his lips find their way to your jaw and move down to your neck, his nose nudging at the fabric of your shirt. “Don't gotta explain anything to me.” His voice is like molasses, smooth and syrupy, keeping you stuck on his every word. You let him move you around, the small wooden stools were less than ideal for either of you. In the mess of standing up and finding a table to bend over your shirt comes off and he groans at the sight of you, his hands grabbing at your waist, staining your skin with water. “Good god… sight for sore eyes…” You can't help but flush slightly at his comment, feeling more exposed while you stare at his fully clothed figure.

 Joel picks up on it, his hands moving from your waist to his shirt and apron, a frustrated noise leaving his mouth when the knotted strings keep him from taking it off. “Let me,” you whisper, reaching around to undo the strings, the fabric of the apron sagging and then getting tossed to some other corner of the room. You stare at him. You couldn't not stare at him. At the hair covering his chest leading down to his belt, the soft yet strong features of his body, at his hand undoing his belt. Your own shorts had been removed, your hands moving to reach into his jeans until he stopped you, a pout and protest forming on your lips. 

Joel just shakes his head at you, picking you up and setting you on a relatively clean table, his body wedged between your legs. “My momma raised me to be a gentleman,” he hums against your skin, kissing the tops of your breasts, nudging your nipples with his nose before giving each of them their own kisses “I didn't take ya to dinner, at least let me get my fill yeah?” Your back fully arched into his mouth as his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, hands gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles were white. The feeling of his tongue flicking against the hardened bud had you moaning out in ways you had never imagined you would, and you swear you could feel him smirk even as he licked a stripe down the soft skin of your tummy. 

His knees crack as he settles between your legs and the sight of him is so sinful you can't help but moan softly. He raises his brows at you, a warm chuckle leaving his mouth at the sound, his lips pressing against the inside of one of your thighs “Look that good?” His voice is laced with a gentle mocking as he presses another kiss, a hair's breadth away from your aching cunt “think I got the better view though.” You don't even have the time, nor the brainpower, to reply before his lips press against you, a groan vibrating against your skin as he tastes you. “Sweetest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had… could get damn addicted.” 

Your lips are parted as his tongue swirls around your clit, your whines and moans spurring him on even further. “F-fuck joel-” you manage at some point, his broad shoulders keeping your thighs spread apart, despite how much they’d like to clamp around him. He was good at this and he knows that, moaning at the sound of his name on your lips, the words giving him a newfound energy. You feel his warm palms against your thighs keeping you spread open for him, and you almost whine when his tongue leaves your clit, only to cry out in ecstasy when his tongue prods at your pulsing hole. His nose is pressed up against your clit, giving you just the right amount of friction as he gathers your slick on his tongue, cycling between fucking it into you and laying it flat over your cunt. “Joel- joel oh fuck-” Your moans are frantic as he continues to send you closer and closer to that edge, his motions only getting faster as your hand fists in his hair. “Oh my god- fuck fuck fuuuuck-” your legs shake around his head, his hands keeping them apart as he works you through your orgasm, not stopping until you were spent and hazy, laying back on the table with shuddering breaths. 

Your eyes were pressed shut, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of your orgasm, only to peek open when you hear the clink of his belt. His mouth was covered in the sheen of your orgasm, a hungry look in his eyes as he spits into his hand and pulls his cock out. “Tasted like a damn dream,” he groans while he strokes himself. “Gonna remember this forever…” Your eyes are locked on the motions of his wrist, the steady pace, the pearly precum that was leaking from his tip. “Fuckin’ perfect… makin’ me feel like a damn teenager again.” You wait with bated breath as he continues to stroke himself, wiggling your hips in order to entice him. 

 “Joel,” your voice is soft, but so heavily full of need it was almost painful “Please… I want you.” If you were being honest, you thought that it would take more convincing, that you would have to ask more, but Joel was desperate, maybe more so than you were and so when he sinks his cock into your dripping cunt it was ecstasy for both of you. Your eyes fall shut again at the feel of him, the stretch so much but so good. “Oh my god…” you whine, pushing yourself onto him further, your breathing stuttering when one of his hands palms at your breast, the other one gripping your hip with so much strength you think it would leave a mark. 

“That’s it…” he groans, slipping into you all the way. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy, like she was made for me.” His words are punctuated with shallow thrusts that fill you up again and again. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. The feeling of his hips pressing against yours is something you would never be able to get out of your memory. 

You both lay there, bodies pressed against each other, his hips rocking into you slow and steadily, the dim lighting of the studio casting an ethereal glow over the scene. His hips move at a steady pace, keeping you full of him as the coarse hairs around him press against your clit with the right amount of friction. It doesn't take much time until he's panting on top of you, your lips pressed against each other's in a heated kiss as you feel him spill inside you. 

“That was…” you were breathless, his chest still against yours, the rhythm of your hearts syncing up. 

“Yeah…” He grins, pressing a kiss against your forehead gently. “I know I told ya I was a gentleman but, I really would like to see you again… of course no pressure if you don't want to or anything-” 

You cut him off with a small laugh before he can keep going, nudging your head against his. “I want to, Joel.” You smile gently at him “Plus, you didn't finish the jar.” You grin, looking in the direction of the unfinished work of art he had started. “And then I have to fire it, then glaze it, then fire it again, then… well you get the point, I think I’ll be seeing you quite a few more times, Joel.”

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free

READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE;  HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. Silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist.

PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. 

Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Cookies]

Jimin isn't sure anymore what to think about you and Jungkook. But maybe tonight he realizes something.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, some Angst in this, major fluff too, christmas!!!

Wordcount: 3.1k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Jimin has no idea how to talk to you anymore.

It’s not like you became an entirely different person overnight, or as if Jungkook actively keeps him away from you- it’s just.. awkward. He’s seen you search online for jobs, something you’ve never done before, or at least you’ve never actually seemed to be interested in that. And neither has he ever wanted you to do get one- he’s making enough money for the both of you, you don’t have to provide for yourself.

But he believes that Jungkook might have something to do with it.

“jiminie?” You say, skipping towards him to put your phone down, a page opened. “can you drive me to my job interview tomorrow?” You ask, and Jimin frowns, looking at the page on your phone.

It's an email. You’ve been apparently asking for a job at a local grocery store to just help stock the shelves and such, but Jimin worries. “are you sure?” He asks, and you deflate quite a bit. “eight hours a day is a bit much to start with..” he says, and you huff, slumping over onto the kitchen counter.

“But I wanna have my own money too…” you mumble, complaining when the door opens, Yoongi entering.

“But baby you don’t have to? Just tell me how much you need and I’ll give it to you.” Jimin says, earning some attention from Yoongi who gets himself a bottle of cold coffee from the fridge.

“But then- noo, that’s not right!” You huff, tail smacking against your chair you’re sitting on. “no, I need my own for that!” You complain. “eight hours isn’t a lot! I can do that!”

“Can I look at it?” yoongi asks, and Jimin slides the phone over with a sigh. “eight hours five days a week. Have you ever worked before?” He wonders, and you sheepishly shake your head. “then eight hours might be a bit much as a start. Don’t they offer part time positions?” He asks, and you shrug.

“I’ll get less money then though..” you say disappointed, leaning back a big as your legs swing around.

“Work your way up then.” Yoongi encourages. “it’s a good job, decent pay even as part time.” He mumbles, looking through the job description. “I’d like to look over the contract before you sign it though. Just to make sure it’s all good.” He says, turning around to throw the bottle in the trash.

Jimin notices instantly how you look at Yoongi.

“There’s my princess!” Jungkook however breaks through the moment, picking you up from the chair you’re sitting on to hug you, tail wagging with excitement. He’s apparently just come home from work to pick you up- like he always does.

These days, the moment Jungkook is available, you’re gone out of sight.

Yoongi has already slowly brought up the topic of potentially changing the living situations permanently in the future- switching around so to speak, with Jungkook and you living in one house, while Jimin and Yoongi occupy the other. Of course, this wouldn’t be official due to the fact that both Jungkook and you are still hybrids and therefore legally not allowed to rent or own any land or property, but it could still work as long as the paperwork stays the way it is right now. Jimin isn’t really sure if he likes the idea.

He knows it’s inevitable, but that doesn’t mean he likes it.

Jungkook and you are gone as quickly as always, with the dog hybrid helping you wrap your scarf around your neck to keep you warm outside. He’s taking you for a bit of a date- he’s doing that a lot in fact. But especially now- with Christmas fast approaching and your love for all things sweet, it’s the perfect time to spoil you rotten.

You don’t tell him about your job hunting. You kind of want it to stay a bit of a secret.

“Do you know what you’d like as a Christmas present yet?” He wonders, warm hand holding yours as he swings them a bit, both of you walking through the busy streets full of food stalls and advertisements. You think a little, unsure.

“I don’t know.” You admit. Jimin and you always exchanged tiny presents, never truly having to think about what to gift the other.

“hm, I’ll have to think of something then.” He chuckles, squeezing your hand a second before he looks ahead again.

Back home, Jimin and Yoongi are arguing once again. “I’m just saying- what if they can’t keep the house tidy? She’s pretty messy..” jimin worries.

“Jungkook will get her to clean up, don’t worry he’s a bit chaotic but they’ll manage.” He easily defends. “jimin, I know it’s hard to let go but-“ he sighs when Jimin turns around, facing away from him. “-she’ll stay close? Literally next door.” He offers.

But it’s not enough. He wants you home.

“She’s already looking for a job. She clearly must be thinking of it too.” Yoongi says. “You can’t keep that away from her. She deserves that freedom.”

“She never worked before. She wont last.” Jimin says, sitting down again to put his head in his hands. “I don’t want her to go through that feeling of failure. She’s fine as it is- why does she suddenly want her own money? Just because Jungkook works?” He whines, and Yoongi shrugs, because he has an idea as to why you could be doing this.

“Does it really matter?” the older male says, sitting down as well. “this isn’t about the money, or the work, or the house, and you know this.” He tries to reason. “it’s about the fact that you don’t want her to leave.”

“Why can’t I have you both?” jimin softly complains. “it feels like I have to choose. Like.. I’d have to take Jungkook away from her to get her back.” He reveals his feelings, making Yoongi stay silent.

Because there’s really nothing he could say to make him feel any better.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Yoongi waits for you in the car as you return from your job interview, offering him the documents to read through. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?” yoongi asks, reading through the papers with a pair of glasses.

“Yeah, but I don’t.. want to just be lazy.” You mumble, playing with your new acrylics you got done with Jungkook. They’re Christmas themed. “Jungkook.. works a lot. And he's always so proud.” You say quietly. “I know working in a grocery store isn’t as cool as his job but..”

Yoongi looks over at you, a gentle expression on his face. “You have a lot to be proud of too.” He says, giving the documents back to you. “and even just part time is already a big thing. You’re a different category than Jungkook, remember that.”

“How do you know?” You ask, surprised.

“both simple observation-“ He smiles a bit, before he flips a page of your document. “-and the ability to read.” He chuckles, causing you to become a bit shy now.

He's right. It’s all written down right there.

“You’re right in the middle of categories. That’s got to be confusing.” He gently tells you. “Go slow and steady. They offer a training day, take it. I’ll bring you and pick you up, and then we’ll decide whether or not you’ll sign it, okay?” He asks, and you nod, watching him drive home in silence.

The moment you both step out in front of his house, you do something unique-

You hug him, an actual, full on hug, arms wrapped around him as you rub your cheek on his chest to scent him. “thanks.” You mumble, and Yoongi awkwardly pats your head, before you run off at the sight of Jungkook after giving yoongi the documents, as the dog hybrid is seen opening the front door to greet you.

“Well, that’s new.” Jimin hums. “is she growing closer to everyone but me now?” He half-jokes- though yoongi can hear some genuine insecurities.

“I think it’s simply evening out, Jimin.” Yoongi tries to explain. “see it like that. Her attention is like a bottle of water. And before, it was all just filling one cup- yours.” He says as they’re both inside the kitchen now, him taking out two glasses and a bottle of water. “But now, there’s more cups to fill. And Jungkook’s simply gets a bit more from her.. well, because it’s a special cup, you could say.” He chuckles.

“I was just as spoiled, huh.” Jimin sighs, taking the glass of water from him, staring at it.

“Pretty much. But just like her, you’ll adapt.” He gently hums, hand on his. “it’s just a bit tough right now. And hey-“ he says, leaning over the table a bit to get closer, faces only inches apart.

“-You’ve got your own special cup too, no?”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook and you cuddle on the sofa, when he notices it again.

Sometimes, whenever you’re close like this, or he offers you just a tad bit too much physical affection, you seem to become almost drunk off of it. He’s noticed it in public too, whenever he hugs you fully and gives you a lot of kisses or even just a hand on your back running up and down a bit too often. Now, he knows that cat hybrids can get excited from a lot of physical contact- but you seem especially sensitive.

Almost as if you’re not the same category as himself.

He doesn’t really know how to ask you, considering that it might be a touchy subject- but he’s also endlessly curious. Though, right now, it’s not a very pressing issue, as you’re both in the privacy of the home he technically shares with Yoongi. These days, your things have found their way into this house as well though- from clothes in the wash, blankets on the couch, or stuffed toys in his bedroom that you wanted to show off but forgot to take back.

He can’t say he doesn’t like it.

You’re happily purring against him, rolling over onto your back, sweater rising up a bit to reveal your stomach- and he can’t help himself as he leans over you to kiss the skin, cold top of his nose making you giggle. “You’re so pretty.” He chuckles as well, moving up to kiss your lips now. You’re buzzing with emotions now, tail swiping from side to side, smacking hard against the couch now as he charges you up again.

It's then that you bite him, and he notices it.

As if he looks at you for the first time so intensely, he realizes a few things. From the more pronounced feline shape of your pupils, to the more defined sharpened teeth of yours. It doesn’t just seem like you’re a different category- you most likely are.

And yet you seem so aware? Something doesn’t make sense- but right now, it’s not the moment to ask about it.

Instead, he watches how you let go of his arm again, only some slight marks present on his skin, proving that you didn’t mean to hurt him at all- that it was just a reaction to get rid of all that excitement. It’s cute to him, most of all, so he doesn’t really care about it, happy sighing along with you as you both entangle your legs together before you cuddle up, getting ready to nap a little.

It's Jungkook’s favorite part of the day.

If he didn’t like his job so much, he’d stay home with you all day every day, and he’d never get bored of anything at all as long as you’d be there at his side. But to spoil you how you deserve it, he needs money- so it’s currently for the best to be away for seven hours and be able to offer you the best he can.

And you deserve only the best, in his opinion.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You feel ashamed when Yoongi picks you up from your first day.

You had to take breaks way more often than you thought you’d have to, it was honestly stressful despite the fact that you did nothing but stock shelves for four hours. You’re being paid- but you also feel almost defeated. You can’t see yourself doing this long term- you feel absolutely drained.

“I know I’m repeating myself, but it’s fine to admit if it’s not for you.” Yoongi tells you, who just starts at your lap. “no shame in it.”

“Why can’t I be normal?” You mumble.

“Because no one is.” Yoongi simply chuckles. “some might fit a common standard. But there is really no ‘normal’. Only average at best.” He explains.

“then I wanna be average.” You say.

“But that’s not you.” He shrugs. “and we all like you the way you are.” He offers. “Jimin mentioned to me that you don’t like Christmas. Are you upset because of that right now?” He wonders, genuinely curious.

“Christmas.. I don’t know.” You tell him. “It’s all.. a lot. Like, the lights, and the noise, and everyone’s always on edge, and nervous..” you confess.

“Its stressful.” Yoongi concludes, and you nod.

“And I also always feel bad.” You admit. “because.. Jiminie always gets me a lot of presents, but all I can give him is.. stupid stuff I made myself.” You say.

“Ah, now I get why you want to work so badly.” Yoongi clicks his tongue.

“I want to give you guys nice stuff too!” You cry out, finally letting it all out to someone. “I want to make you happy too, but I can’t do anything, and I can’t buy anything! I can only take, that’s it!” You huff angrily, ears pinned back when you notice Yoongi pulling up to a small grocery store. “Huh?” You wonder, distracted, when Yoongi runs a hand over your head- the touch able to calm you down quite a bit as you look at him.

“you and Jimin are very similar, you know?” He smiles. “You need to be more open. Don’t suffer all by yourself- getting help isn’t admitting defeat.” He says. “how about you help with chores at home, and I’ll give you some pocket money for it?”

“But then I’ll take money from you again.” You deny.

“Its not that different from working. You do something, I’ll pay you. Simple.” He shrugs.

“…OK.” You nod, determined, as he reaches over to wipe your cheeks, tears staining them that you didn’t even notice falling.

“there we go.” He grins, before driving back home with you.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

After Yoongi had informed the rest of them back home about your actual issues with the holiday season, Jungkook is now busy making sure the new Christmas lights aren’t blinking anymore but instead glowing steady, settings adjusted. He's almost done, when you rush into the house, almost tripping upstairs. “everything okay?” Jungkook calls, Jimin and Yoongi looking after you as well.

“Everything’s fine, promise!” You call down. “I just gotta wrap some stuff!!” You say, before something chatters, making Yoongi chuckle.

“So all those Years.. she didn’t hate Christmas at all?” jimin wonders.

“I mean, cats are pretty sensitive to stuff like that.” Jungkook mumbles with his head almost entirely stuck within the large Christmas tree. “and she’s a different category so- ouch!” He flinched when the pines prick him a little.

“I never thought that the difference in just seven percent is that big..” jimin shamefully sighs to himself.

“Well, you know now.” Yoongi reassures. “the past is the past. Let’s focus on the future.”

You’re downstairs a few hours later with a few colorful bandaids on your fingers from papercuts, watching the cookies in the oven bake with Jungkook hugging you. Some of them are shaped like cats, others like dogs. “can we eat them when they’re done?” You wonder.

“They’ll be hot though.” Jungkook chuckles. “you’ll burn your tongue.”

“I don’t wanna wait..” you huff.

“I’ll distract you then.” Jungkook suggests. “we can go put the presents under the tree while they cool down.” He says, letting go of you to take them out, careful not to have you get hurt.

“Okay.” You nod, fetching all the little things you wrapped admittedly a bit chaotically. Still, everyone’s proud- it’s not an easy task for you, and it’s clear that you had to take breaks multiple times in between wrapping to get your focus back on track. “mine look all crumpled up..” you pout, sitting on the floor in front of all the presents.

“You got drastically better though after the first two.” Yoongi comments. “that one there looks pretty neat.” He points to a small one, and you purr at that, before you turn. “You want some?” He offers the peeled tangerine, which you take.

“She’s warmed up to him.” Jimin notices from the sidelines, and Jungkook nods, tail wagging.

“Isn’t it great?” He says, though his tail slows when he notices Jimin’s rather somber look. “Why are you so against us loving her.?” He asks, and Jimin looks towards the dog hybrid in surprise.

“What?” He asks, caught off guard.

“I don’t know. But it feels like you’re.. upset that she’s befriending Yoongi. Or that she loves me now.” He explains.

“I’m not upset.” The older human denies. “I’m just.. scared.”

“Of what?” Jungkook calls, bewildered. “aren’t we a family now?”

A family.

Jimin hasn’t really thought of it that way- but Jungkook’s right. Yoongi and the dog hybrid aren’t taking you away, really- they’re more like an extension now, added on instead of pushed into the existing bond you two once had. The only one who pulled away had been himself.

“we all love her. In different ways.” Jungkook smiles. “the only one who’s making it weird is you.” He jokes, before he joins in, tugging on your tail playfully to get you to turn and tackle him, Yoongi sighing as he has to make sure you both don’t tumble right into the tree.

And that night, a switch had been flipped.

Jimin finally jumps over his own shadow again, helping you unwrap your presents, while also almost brought to tears when he receives yours. It’s all warm, and happy, and almost like you’re both back to normal again- but one look around him offers him a true picture of what it is now.

You both have always considered each other family-

You’re just a few more people now.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

kiss me thru the phone

pairing: javi x reader

tags/cws: phone sex, p in v, pussy slapping, not quite degradation but almost (he calls her "pobrecita"!!)

summary: you leave javi hanging when you go out with a friend, so he gives you "payback"... (he tries but at the end of the day, javi is a lover)

a/n: div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

wc: 1.8k

tags: @vaaaaaiolet @withonly-sweetheart

Your voice is fuzzy through the receiver held between Javi's shoulder and his ear, but he doesn't need to understand a word you're saying — not when his hand, slick with his own saliva, is around his cock and he's pretending it's your mouth instead.

"Can't wait 'til you're back," he says. "Been dying to feel you. Always so tight for me, and so wet too."

You're a complete mess, reduced to nothing but, "uh-huh, yeah, oh! oh, Javi!"

It's a good thing you're not on speaker phone. Wouldn't want to wake the neighbors, not again, not when you're a thousand miles away and Javi doesn't even get the pleasure of feeling you tightening around him when you scream his name.

As usual, he staves off his own pleasure until your first orgasm subsides. It's a routine, one that never gets old. You tell him how much you want his cock, how badly you want to hear him cum, how you wish you were there to see it. You beg for it like you'll die without it, with such conviction that sometimes Javi isn't sure if it's just for his sake anymore. You should be basking in the afterglow of your own bliss, but god, your voice holds the same desperation that his does.

But this time it's different. "Oh shit!" you say — and Javi can tell by your tone that it's not "oh, shit, I'm gonna cum again", but rather "oh, shit, I knocked a glass off the bedside table". That's not exactly what happened on your end, but the situation holds the same gravity in your mind — inconvenient but not disastrous.

"I'll be right there, just gimme one sec!" you say to someone other than Javi.

Before he can ask you what the fuck is going on, you say, hurried, "Sorry, Javi, I completely forgot that Jess and I have plans tonight."

That sounds familiar, he thinks, but he's never been good at keeping up with your schedule.

"Does that mean you're—" about to hang up? to leave me hanging?

"I'll call back later, baby, promise."

He accepts it. He knows how hard it's been for you to adjust to the change of living in a new city, especially when you're only going to be there for a few months, and he's glad you've become close with your coworker. You've made plans to go on a double date with this friend and her boyfriend if they ever make it down to Texas.

He'll get over it quickly, but in the immediate aftermath, Javi's pissed. It’s not just that you’ve blue-balled him, not just that it aches and he can’t get off without you talking him through it - a fact that already frustrates him to no end - the thing that really gets to him is how un-fucking-fair it is. You got to cum and he didn’t, you got yours and he’s stuck with a raging hard-on, knowing that leaving you a voicemail to complain would make him sound awfully childish, and Javi is a grown-ass man, not a child. 

When you don't call — at first, he's worried. What if something happened? He sits by the phone, and waits anxiously, considers calling the cops and sending out a search party, even thinks about flying out to another state to go and find you himself. He realizes a lot of this is leftover worries from another time in a far away country, and you are most likely completely safe (and he’d look like a fucking lunatic if he flipped out and assumed you were in grave danger).

The next morning, when he gets a phone call from you, assuring him that you’re completely fine and you just passed out on the couch immediately upon arriving home, he’s relieved (for about five minutes), but when you hang up, he’s pissed again. He was worried sick about you, and he still didn’t get to cum. 

But he pretends all is well until you arrive back home a week later.

"Baby, I've missed you so much!" You tell him for the millionth time since he picked you up at the airport, showering him with cherry lip-gloss-flavored kisses.

He returns your affection, carries your bags to the bedroom, and then waits. It's like clockwork. You arrive home after a long week of work, you take off your office attire, and you turn to Javi, who sits at the foot of the bed watching you, gazing fondly upon you.

"I want you," you say, eyes filled with lust.

"Then, come here."

The smirk on his face holds more than you know when you — half-undressed — climb into Javi's lap and kiss him.

He keeps up the routine for a bit, plays by the rules, lets you help him undress, makes out with you like he'll die if he stops. It's a good thing you're not wearing the business casual pantsuit, the kitten heels, the pencil skirt, or the fucking stockings, because he wouldn't be able to resist. He's torn up too many pairs of stockings at this point.

When his cock springs free from his underwear, he turns the tables. You, unaware of this new game you're playing, try to nudge it towards your entrance with a shimmy of your hips.

"Not yet," he says. "Be patient."

He drags the head along your folds, slick with arousal, teasing you with every stroke at a pace that can only be described as agonizing.

"Javi, please," you beg, "I need you inside me."

"Why? Can't cum like this?" he taunts.

"No, I can't."

"Oh, pobrecita, you're just gonna have to wait a little longer then."

"What? Why? Javi, stop teasing me."

"I'm not teasing you," he says, then his eyes flit to yours. "I'm punishing you."

"For what? I haven't done anything—"

"Remember when you went out with Jess?" His tone is firm and accusing, like you've done something illegal.

"Yeah?"

"What were you supposed to do when you got home?"

"…Call you."

"And did you?"

"No, but—"

"No, you didn't. I waited for you. Now you're going to wait."

He's not only the arresting officer, but also, the judge, the jury, and the executioner.

"No, no, no, Javi, this is so unfair."

"What's so unfair?"

He takes away all stimulation from your lower body and begins to play with your tits instead.

"What you're doing right now." Your voice is whiny and pathetic. And adorable, but Javi won't tell you that just yet.

"I'm just kissing you." He presses one to each nipple. It makes you shiver. "Just giving you some love." 

It's not untrue. He does love you. 

"I need you to give me some dick."

Javi looks at you like you've just thrown hot soup in his face. Shock turns to irritation. His hand returns between your thighs, but you'd be stupid to think he was going to please you. Slap. Right across your glistening slit.

You whimper in pain (and pleasure, though you'd be reluctant to admit that). Regardless, your skin hungers for his touch, so you buck your hips towards him.

"Oh? You want another one?"

The second slap stings. Yet, you find yourself seeking more. More until your lips are puffy with need. More until you're teary-eyed.

His caring demeanor that never left, only hid below the surface, shows itself again. "You okay?" he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Yeah," you say, then more quietly, embarrassed that you can't come up with something less crude in the face of Javi's momentary sweetness, "I just need you to fuck me."

"You're crying over my cock and it's not even in you yet?"

He wants to fuck you, but he has to be a little mean. He could easily give in, but where’s the justice in that? More importantly, where’s the fun in that?

"Oh, pobrecita," he calls you again, unsympathetically, shaking his head like he's telling off a misbehaving child.

"Please, Javi," you try again, putting on your best begging face.

"Alright, fine. You can have my dick if you really want it that badly."

"Yes, yes, I do—"

"—But not in your pussy," he says, expecting disappointment to wash over your face.

But before he can order you to open up, you sit up, and ask, with hope in your eyes, "in my mouth?"

The answer is yes, and you know it, so you sit back on your knees and open your mouth.

The joy, the near satisfaction in your eyes makes his cock twitch. There's no way to punish you when you crave everything that is Javi.

He'd forgotten how heavenly your mouth feels around him, and it's harder to hold off his orgasm than he expected it to be. When he cums, it's going to be inside you, he has to remind himself.

In one swift motion, he pulls out of your mouth, lies you back on the bed and presses his lips to yours. Sincerity breaks through him once more and he kisses you like the devoted lover he was made to be.

"How do you want me?" he asks, figuring you've waited long enough. You've both waited long enough.

"However you want."

One hand reaches between you to position himself at your entrance. "I wanna see your pretty face, hermosa."

He bottoms out in a single thrust that makes your back arch off the mattress. You lazily wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him inside you, awaiting a second round of "punishment". But there isn't one, not yet.

He kisses you until you feel dizzy and out of breath and then he settles for kissing your jaw and chin, needy, desperate.

The thing is: Javi's not even chasing his orgasm anymore, he's trying to make up for lost time by holding you as close to him as he can. He leaves bite marks to remind you who you belong to (and, in turn, who belongs to you). You leave scratches down his back because you're gripping him in every way you can as you approach your peak.

But he stops, entirely, when he realizes you're about to cum.

"Gonna cum without asking?"

"I-I'm sorry."

"You have bigger things to be sorry for, hermosa."

"I'm sorry I didn't call, Javi," you say, "I really, really am."

"I know you are, and that's why I'm gonna let you cum tonight. But I get to cum first."

You let out a weak plea, "Cum inside me, Javi, please."

"Yeah? You want it inside?" He considers pulling out to spite you, but he loves you too goddamn much to do something so cruel. 

He's been pent up for over a week, so when his orgasm takes over, it's intense. He lets his head hang, his forehead brushing against the mattress, as he fills you to the brim. He nearly whimpers as he cums and the sound pushes you over the edge. You don't even have time to ask for permission, but Javi is too far gone to care.

Still out of breath, you say, "if this is what happens when I don't call you, I'm never calling you again."

In response, Javi reaches between your thighs and slaps your pussy one last time.

"Ow! What the fuck was that for?" you say, but in the look you give him, he can see the translation: "Round two?"