#but I just feel like that would have been a cooler dynamic
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eggyolkguzzler · 2 days ago
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May I ask Alex's opinion on Elliott?
I'm super duper curious because it just popped into my head ⊂((・▽・))⊃
He's... Whatever, I guess.
We barely even talk to each other. Why should I care?
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...
Ugh. Sorry. That came out wrong. He's fine. He's just-
Nevermind. Forget it. Don't tell him I said anything.
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Gripping my desk so hard the wood splinters. Listen. Listen to me. I've put so much thought into the Alex Elliott dynamic. You have no fucking idea.
I think Alex would have very very complicated feelings about Elliott. He sees this beach boy who's dashingly handsome, muscular, AND intelligent? Alex would lose his mind.
In a bad way.
At first it's just petty jealousy. Alex grew up around a lot of very competitive men fighting to be the best, so of course Alex has the most fragile ego known to mankind. He keeps telling himself "At least I'm cooler" or "I have a nicer tan than he does anyways" or "Who even wears trenchcoats?"
All this pent up emotion bubbles into anger. But Alex doesn't want to be a dick. He doesn't want to be a bully. So he does his best to avoid talking to Elliott in general. At festivals, he'll only glance at Elliott to acknowledge he's there. He dreads the thought of saying hello to him.
Elliott, bless him, doesn't realize this young man is riddled with envy just a few feet away.
Eventually, they finally meet for realsies. They talk at length for the first time. Alex feels his stomach churn, because he finally realizes that Elliott is genuinely nice to talk to. He's kind. He's considerate. He's perfect.
He's so, so perfect.
At the end of their conversation, Elliott politely bids Alex farewell. He expresses how nice it is to finally have a pleasant chat with him, as he's been craving one for a while.
This sends Alex into a spiral immediately.
He doesn't even say goodbye. He just goes home.
Alex gets to his room and throws the BIGGEST tantrum.
"How!? How can he be so FUCKING perfect? It's not FAIR. It's not FAIR. He can't be handsome, nice, and SMARTER THAN I AM. HE JUST CAN'T. IT'S NOT FAIR."
After exerting all his energy, and letting all his anger out, Alex crawls into bed and starts to cry. He cries because he's been such an ass for no good reason. He doesn't hate Elliott. He only hates himself. Just for being imperfect.
"Why can't I be like him? What am I missing? What am I doing wrong? What's wrong with me?"
.
.
.
.
.
I do think, with enough patience, Alex and Elliott could be friends. They could hang out at the beach together, and Elliott could get Alex to beta read his books to see how bearable they are for disabled/dyslexic readers. Their friendship could be really sweet and wholesome.
But it would take some time to get there.
I believe it can happen <3
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ninjaaa-go · 1 year ago
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Probably an unpopular opinion, but I started rewatching Ninjago, and I feel like it would have been better if they kept Kai as the protagonist and Cole as the team leader rather than giving both of those roles to Lloyd
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rafedarling · 2 months ago
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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬
pairing: drew starkey x reader
summary: you and drew have been best friends since childhood, sharing everything-until drew's acting career takes off. as odessa enters drew's life and their on-screen chemistry blurs the lines of their friendship, you feel the deepening void between you and the boy you once knew. invited to a family bbq at the starkey, you hope to reconnect with drew. however, you soon find yourself on the sidelines, watching as odessa captures all of drew's attention. a devastating scene in ‘hellraiser’—a film that stars both drew and odessa-sends you spiraling into the realization that drew may never see you the way you see him. over the course of a painful night and the aftermath, long-buried emotions rise to the surface, culminating in a heart-wrenching confrontation. will drew finally realize what you mean to him, or will you be forced to let him go for good? | words count: 7,3k (sorry!!!)
warning(s): NO HATES TOWARD ODESSA OR ANY ACTORS/ FRIENDS OF DREW! english is not my native language. severe emotional turmoil, themes of unrequited love, detailed internal conflict, intense feelings of isolation, push-and-pull dynamics, emotional abandonment, moments of painful rejection, and slow-burning angst.
au: like, reblog and comment are much appreciated. i actually listen to THIS SONG while writing this, discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @drewstarkeys-world @maybankslover @akobx @rubixgsworld @enjoymyloves @xoxohoneymoongirl @rafecameroncoke @httpsdrewstarkey @tiaamberxx @wxn-drlst @ratatioulle @zizuras @flvredcas @abrmscline @noobmazter69 @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry
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The summers were always the best part of your childhood. You and Drew Starkey had been practically inseparable since you were six years old, running through the wide backyard of the Starkey home, laughing until your stomach hurt and your lungs ached from the chase. Your families were close—so close that your mothers, Jodi and your mom, would joke that you and Drew were "destined for each other."
"Y/N and Joseph," Jodi would say with a smile as she watched the two of you playing in the grass. "They’re going to get married someday. I’ve always known."
Your mother would laugh, glancing over at you, sweaty and carefree as you chased Drew through the sprinklers. "I’d be happy with that, Jodi," she’d reply, "It would be perfect."
You didn’t think much of it then. To you, Drew was just Drew—your best friend, the boy who pulled you out of the creek when you fell in one summer and got scraped knees trying to rescue you. You couldn’t imagine life without him, but back then, you were still young. The idea of growing up and getting married seemed like something distant, almost laughable.
One summer, when you were about six, you had a moment that defined your bond. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden light over the Starkey backyard. You and Drew were sprawled on the grass after an afternoon of playing tag, breathing hard but smiling at each other.
“Joseph,” you began, turning your head toward him as you lay beside him, “can I call you something else? Like a nickname?”
Drew raised an eyebrow and rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. “Like what?”
“I don’t know... Drew? It sounds cooler.”
He blinked, then laughed, as though the idea of you giving him a special name was the best thing he had heard all day. “Sure,” he said, grinning. “Call me Drew.”
From that day on, the name stuck. Only you called him that, while the rest of the world called him Joseph. It was your little secret, a bond that made you feel like you shared something special. And you did.
Every summer, you counted down the days until you could visit the Starkey family. It was tradition—long, lazy afternoons spent playing outside, followed by evenings watching the stars come out. The best part, though, was the mornings.
Drew knew how much you loved watching the sunrise. Each summer, no matter how early it was, he would wake up with you before dawn, just so the two of you could sit on the hill behind the house and watch the sky change from dark blue to shades of pink, orange, and gold.
“Think we’ll always do this?” you had asked one morning, your knees pulled to your chest as the horizon turned golden.
Drew looked at you, the early morning light reflecting in his eyes. “Yeah,” he had said simply. “We’ll always be friends.”
At that moment, as the sun bathed you both in warmth, you believed him with all your heart.
When you were twelve, your family made the big move to Asheville, North Carolina, to be closer to the Starkeys. At first, it was a dream come true—you’d see Drew year-round now, not just in the summers. But as exciting as the move was, it came with its own challenges. A new school, new classmates, and a feeling of unfamiliarity that settled deep in your bones.
You weren’t exactly the social butterfly Drew was. He thrived in new environments, easily making friends with his magnetic personality. He was taller than most boys his age, athletic, and undeniably charming. He played basketball, acted in the school plays, and it seemed like everyone was drawn to him. You, on the other hand, were quieter, more reserved. Drew was your anchor, the one person who made you feel like you belonged.
Despite being in different classes, Drew always made time for you. He’d wait for you after school, leaning against the fence near the basketball courts, a crooked smile on his face as he waved you over.
“Come on, slowpoke,” he’d tease. “I’ve got snacks for us before practice.”
It became a routine—him waiting for you, you showing up at his basketball practices with snacks or a drink to keep him going. Sometimes, you’d sit on the bleachers, watching him run drills, marveling at how easily he seemed to fit into this new world. You were happy for him, of course, but there was always a small, nagging feeling inside you, something that whispered that you were being left behind.
You brushed it off. After all, Drew was still Drew—your best friend, the boy who stood up for you when some kids at school made fun of your appearance. You’d never forget the day one of Drew’s classmates, a girl from the drama club, sneered at you during lunch.
“How can someone like you even be friends with Joseph Starkey?” she had said, her voice dripping with disdain.
You had felt a hot flush of embarrassment creep up your neck, your fists clenching at your sides. But before you could respond, Drew had appeared out of nowhere, stepping in front of you protectively.
“What did you just say?” Drew’s voice was low, dangerous, his eyes narrowing at the girl.
The girl faltered, shrinking under his glare. “I— I didn’t mean—”
“You don’t get to talk to her like that,” Drew snapped, his voice ice-cold. “If I ever hear you say something like that again, you’ll regret it.”
The girl had stammered an apology before scurrying away, and Drew had turned to you with a reassuring smile, as if nothing had happened.
“Don’t listen to people like her,” he had said softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You’re worth so much more than their words.”
From that day on, you never doubted that Drew had your back. He was your protector, your confidant, the one person who made you feel safe in a world that often felt overwhelming.
When Drew turned seventeen, he became more serious about his future. You spent countless nights together, talking about his dreams, about how he wanted to pursue acting full-time after high school. It was clear to you that he had the passion, the drive, and the talent to make it big.
The day Drew landed his first acting role was a day you’d never forget. You were sitting in your living room when Drew burst through the front door, grinning from ear to ear.
“Y/N! I got the part!” he shouted, holding up a script in triumph. “I actually got the part!”
Your heart soared with pride as you jumped up from the couch, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Drew, that’s amazing! I knew you’d do it!”
The two of you celebrated that night, just the two of you. Drew asked you to help him practice his lines, and for hours, you sat on the floor of your living room, reading through the script with him. He was nervous, pacing back and forth as he recited his lines, but you were there, steady and patient, helping him work through every scene.
Before his first day on set, Drew had come to you, his usual confidence replaced with anxiety. “What if I mess up?” he had asked, his voice wavering. “What if I’m not good enough?”
You had smiled softly, reaching into your bag and pulling out a small, crocheted keychain—a little dog with floppy ears that you had made yourself. “Here,” you said, handing it to him. “Consider this your good luck charm. Keep it with you, and I promise you’ll be fine.”
Drew had chuckled, pocketing the keychain with a fond smile. “Thanks, sunshine. I’ll keep it with me, always.”
That first role was just the beginning. After high school, Drew went off to college to study acting, and though the distance was hard, you made sure to keep in touch. Late-night phone calls, long text conversations—Drew made sure you were still part of his life, even from miles away.
And when he landed his breakout role on the Netflix series Outer Banks, you were the first person he called.
“Y/N! Guess what?” Drew’s voice had crackled through the phone, filled with excitement. “I got a role on a Netflix show! Can you believe it?”
Your heart had swelled with pride, even as a small, selfish part of you wondered what this meant for your friendship. “Drew, that’s incredible! I’m so proud of you!”
You meant every word, but as Drew’s career took off, the distance between you began to grow—not just physically, but emotionally. His life was changing, and you weren’t sure if you still had a place in it.
The first time Drew mentioned Odessa A’zion, you hadn’t thought much of it. She was a fellow actor on Outer Banks, and Drew had talked about how they had become fast friends on set. But as time passed, it became clear that Odessa was more than just a friend to Drew—she was someone important to him.
At first, you tried to brush off the feeling of unease that settled in your chest every time Drew talked about her. After all, he was bound to make new friends in the industry. But it became harder to ignore the way he talked about Odessa—the way his eyes lit up when he mentioned her name, the way she seemed to occupy so much of his attention.
The first time you met Odessa was at Drew’s birthday party. He had flown back to North Carolina to celebrate with friends and family, and you were excited to see him in person after months of only talking through texts and phone calls.
When you arrived at the restaurant, your heart raced with anticipation. It had been so long since you’d seen Drew, and part of you hoped that things would feel just like they used to. But as soon as you walked in, you saw him sitting with Odessa.
They were deep in conversation, laughing together as if they were the only two people in the room. You felt a pang of jealousy, something you hadn’t expected. Drew had always been your person, your best friend. But now, watching him with Odessa, it felt like he was slipping away.
When Drew finally noticed you, his face lit up with a smile. “Y/N!” he called out, standing up to wrap you in a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
You hugged him back, but something felt off. The easy familiarity that had always existed between you was strained, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.
Odessa greeted you with a polite smile, introducing herself, but the way she looked at Drew—like he was the center of her universe—only made the knot in your stomach tighten.
The rest of the night passed in a blur. Drew introduced you to his castmates, and while everyone was friendly, you couldn’t help but feel like an outsider. Drew and Odessa were inseparable, their laughter filling the room as they shared inside jokes you weren’t part of.
Later that night, as the party began to wind down, Drew pulled you aside. “I need to take Odessa home,” he explained, his voice apologetic. “She had a little too much to drink.”
You forced a smile, even as your heart sank. “Yeah, of course. Go ahead.”
As you watched them leave together, something inside you shifted. You couldn’t ignore it anymore—the distance between you and Drew wasn’t just physical. It was emotional. And it hurt more than you were willing to admit.
Months passed, and while you and Drew still kept in touch, things weren’t the same. The texts were shorter, the phone calls less frequent, and every time you tried to bring up something personal, something about you, the conversation somehow always shifted back to Odessa or Drew’s new life in Los Angeles. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about his success—you were proud of him—but it hurt to feel like an afterthought, someone on the periphery of his increasingly glamorous life.
When Drew invited you to his family’s annual BBQ, you hesitated. Part of you wanted to turn down the invitation, not wanting to face him and Odessa again. But the other part of you—the part that still longed for the closeness you once shared—couldn’t say no. This was the Starkey house, the place that had always felt like a second home to you, the place where your friendship with Drew had blossomed.
The afternoon sun was just beginning to set as you arrived at the familiar Starkey home. The front porch was adorned with string lights, and the smell of grilled burgers wafted through the air, mixing with the sound of laughter from the backyard. It should’ve felt like a homecoming, but instead, all you felt was a growing sense of unease.
As you stepped into the backyard, the knot in your stomach tightened. Drew was there, sitting beside Odessa, his arm casually draped along the back of her chair. They were laughing, their heads close together as if they were sharing some private joke. For a moment, it was like watching strangers—people you knew but didn’t recognize anymore.
Before you could retreat, McKayla spotted you. “Y/N!” she called out, running over with a grin. Her hug was warm, and it reminded you of why you had come. The Starkeys were still like family, even if your relationship with Drew had changed.
“I missed you so much!” McKayla said, pulling back to look at you with a beaming smile. “It’s been forever.”
“I missed you too,” you replied, your smile softening as you hugged her again. If anything, McKayla had always made you feel welcome, like you were still an important part of their family.
Just as McKayla let go, Todd walked over, his familiar grin lighting up his face. “There’s my favorite little girl!” he boomed, wrapping you in one of his signature bear hugs. “How’ve you been, Y/N?”
“I’ve been good, Todd,” you said, your voice a little quieter now. “How about you?”
“Oh, you know, keeping busy,” Todd replied, his tone warm. “We’ve missed you around here, you know. This place isn’t the same without you.”
Jodi joined the group, pulling you into a soft hug. “Y/N, it’s so good to see you again,” she said, her smile kind but tinged with something deeper—an understanding, perhaps, of the distance that had grown between you and her son. “How are your parents?”
“They’re good,” you answered. “They’re actually in Rome right now, celebrating their 35th anniversary.”
“Ah, Rome,” Jodi sighed wistfully. “Lucky them. They always did know how to celebrate big.”
You smiled at the familiarity of their banter, grateful for their warmth, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tightening in your chest. Every few minutes, your eyes would drift back to Drew and Odessa. The easy way they sat together, the way Drew’s hand occasionally brushed her arm as he spoke—it was hard to ignore. Even harder to accept.
“Let’s get you something to drink,” McKayla suggested, sensing your unease and pulling you away from the crowd. As you followed her inside, you passed Drew and Odessa. Drew glanced up at you, a smile briefly crossing his face.
“Hey, Y/N! Glad you could make it,” Drew said, his tone casual, but there was a distance in his voice that hadn’t been there before.
“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, even though your heart ached.
You could feel Odessa’s eyes on you, though her smile was polite. “Nice to see you again,” she added, her tone friendly but not warm. You nodded, but the knot in your chest tightened as the conversation shifted back to something between her and Drew.
As the night progressed, Drew suggested watching Hellraiser—the movie he and Odessa had filmed together. It was the project he had talked about non-stop for months, and while you had been happy for him, you had avoided watching it. The idea of seeing Drew and Odessa on screen together, so intimately connected, made you uneasy.
“I think you’ll like it,” Drew said as the group settled in front of the outdoor screen. “It’s one of my favorite projects.”
You sat between McKayla and Todd, grateful for the distance between you and Drew, but as the opening credits rolled, the familiar knot in your stomach returned.
At first, you tried to focus on the movie, telling yourself it was just another role for Drew—just a job, nothing more. But as the film progressed, your discomfort grew. Drew’s character, Trevor, and Odessa’s character, Riley, had an undeniable chemistry, one that felt far too real. Every glance, every touch between them on screen felt intimate, too personal.
And then the first love scene played out.
You had prepared yourself for it, but nothing could have braced you for how raw it felt to watch Drew and Odessa in such a vulnerable, intimate moment. The room around you seemed to fade, and all you could focus on was the way Drew looked at her on screen, the way their bodies intertwined in a way that felt too real to be acting.
Your breath caught in your throat, and you fought to keep your expression neutral, but the weight in your chest was growing unbearable. You hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to see him like this, to be confronted with the reality of how much you were no longer a part of his life.
A lump formed in your throat as you forced yourself to stay seated, but when the second love scene began, you couldn’t take it anymore. The emotions you had been pushing down for months suddenly overwhelmed you, and without a word, you stood up, muttering a quick excuse to McKayla before making your way to the front porch.
As soon as you were outside, you collapsed onto the porch steps, gasping for air as the tears finally spilled over. You had been trying so hard to keep it together, but seeing Drew and Odessa like that—so close, so connected—had broken something inside you.
“Y/N?”
McKayla’s voice was soft, and you quickly wiped at your eyes as she stepped outside, sitting down beside you. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just sat with you in the quiet, the sound of the movie still playing faintly in the background.
“Are you okay?” she finally asked, her voice filled with concern.
You shook your head, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I don’t think I can do this, McKayla. Watching them together... it’s too much.”
McKayla sighed, her brow furrowing in sympathy. “I get it, Y/N. It’s hard. But you have to talk to him. He doesn’t know how much you’re hurting.”
“I don’t think he even cares,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “He’s so wrapped up in Odessa and his career... I don’t think I matter to him anymore.”
McKayla shook her head firmly, turning to face you fully. “That’s not true, Y/N. I know my brother. He still cares about you—he’s just blind to everything right now. But you need to tell him how you feel. You deserve that.”
You wiped at your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You can,” McKayla said softly, her hand resting on your shoulder. “You’ve been there for him through everything, Y/N. He needs to understand how much you’re hurting.”
You nodded, but the thought of confronting Drew still terrified you. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face him, to lay everything out on the table. But one thing was clear—you couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay. You couldn’t keep carrying this hurt on your own.
The next morning, you woke up with the same heavy feeling in your chest. You had tossed and turned all night, replaying the movie over and over in your mind, each scene only deepening the ache in your heart. You needed to leave. As much as you loved the Starkeys, being here—being around Drew and Odessa—was too painful.
You packed your bags quietly, leaving a note for McKayla and Todd, thanking them for their hospitality. Slipping out of the house before anyone else woke up, you drove home, your heart heavy with unresolved emotions.
Back at the Starkey house, McKayla sat at the kitchen table with Todd, sipping her coffee as the morning sunlight streamed through the windows.
“She left early,” McKayla said quietly, setting her mug down with a frown. “She didn’t say goodbye.”
Todd looked up from his newspaper, his brow furrowed. “That doesn’t sound like her. Did something happen?”
McKayla sighed, glancing out the window. “I think things are worse than we thought. Y/N... she’s been really struggling, Dad. Watching Drew and Odessa together... it’s been breaking her heart.”
Todd’s face softened with understanding, his eyes clouded with concern. “She’s been a part of this family for so long. I hate to think she’s feeling left out.”
Before McKayla could respond, Drew wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes groggily. “Morning,” he mumbled, heading straight for the coffee pot. But when he noticed the tension in the room, he paused, frowning.
“What’s going on?” he asked, looking between McKayla and Todd.
McKayla exchanged a glance with her father before turning to Drew. “Y/N left early this morning,” she said, her voice heavy with worry. “She didn’t say goodbye.”
Drew’s frown deepened, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What? Why?”
Todd sighed, folding his newspaper as he looked at his son. “I think you know why, Drew. Y/N’s been feeling like you’ve pushed her aside for a long time now. Last night... watching you and Odessa on screen... it was too much for her.”
Drew paled, guilt washing over his face. “What? I— I didn’t mean to—” He trailed off, his voice cracking with emotion.
McKayla crossed her arms, her tone gentle but firm. “Drew, she’s been there for you through everything. But you’ve been so caught up in your own life that you didn’t realize how much you were hurting her.”
Drew’s face fell, the weight of his sister’s words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He had known something was wrong between you two, but he hadn’t realized how deep the hurt ran.
“I need to fix this,” Drew muttered, setting down his coffee and running a hand through his hair. Without another word, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door, determination written all over his face.
You weren’t expecting Drew to show up at your door. After the overwhelming emotions of the previous night, all you wanted was some distance—some space to breathe, to think. The moment you opened the door and saw Drew standing on your porch, his expression filled with a mix of regret and urgency, your heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and dread.
“Y/N,” Drew began, his voice soft but strained. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”
You hesitated for a moment, gripping the edge of the door, your mind torn between letting him in and closing the door on everything you’d been feeling. Part of you wanted to push him away—to protect yourself from the pain that had been eating away at you for so long. But another part of you—a much deeper part—wanted answers. Needed them.
With a reluctant sigh, you stepped back and motioned for Drew to come in.
He walked into your living room, the air thick with tension. As you closed the door behind him, you couldn’t help but notice the way he looked around, as though searching for something familiar to hold on to. His eyes briefly landed on a photo of the two of you from years ago, sitting on the mantle—a reminder of better times, of the friendship that had once been your anchor.
Drew stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets, his eyes downcast. It was clear that he was struggling to find the right words, but the silence between you was too much to bear.
“You left without saying goodbye,” Drew finally said, his voice almost a whisper. There was a vulnerability in his tone, something you hadn’t heard from him in a long time.
You crossed your arms, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Yeah, I did. I couldn’t stay, Drew.”
He glanced up at you, his eyes filled with guilt. “Why? Why didn’t you talk to me?”
You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you looked away. “Talk to you? Drew, when have we really talked lately? Every conversation we’ve had for months has been about Odessa or your career. You barely even notice I’m there anymore.”
Drew flinched at your words, the weight of them hitting him hard. “That’s not true, Y/N. I care about you—I’ve always cared.”
“Really?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it. Do you even realize how long I’ve been feeling like this? How long I’ve been watching you slip away, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t losing you?”
Drew opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. The dam of emotions you had been holding back for so long finally broke, and the words came tumbling out before you could stop them.
“Do you know how hard it’s been, Drew? To sit on the sidelines, watching you live this new life, while I feel like I’m not even part of it anymore? I’ve stood by you through everything—every audition, every role, every milestone—and when it was my turn, when it was something important to me, you weren’t there.”
Your voice cracked as you continued, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over. “You missed my graduation, Drew. Do you know how much that hurt? You promised you’d be there, and you didn’t show up. I waited for you. I waited for you because I thought, ‘This is Drew. He’ll come. He’ll be there for me like I’ve always been there for him.’ But you didn’t. And when you said you’d make it up to me, I thought maybe, just maybe, we’d have one night where it would just be the two of us, like old times. But you brought her.”
Drew’s face fell, his expression filled with regret. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“You didn’t realize because you never asked,” you interrupted, your voice trembling with the weight of all the unspoken pain. “You were so caught up in your own world, in your new life with Odessa, that you didn’t even notice I was falling apart.”
Drew’s eyes were filled with anguish, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“But you did,” you said, your voice cracking with the weight of those words. “You hurt me, Drew. Every time I saw you with her, every time you talked about her like she was the only thing that mattered to you, it felt like a knife in my chest. And I tried to be okay with it. I tried to tell myself that you deserved to be happy, that you deserved to have someone who understood your world. But it didn’t stop the pain.”
Drew took a step closer to you, his hands trembling as he reached out, but he stopped short, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t see it. I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. I was selfish, Y/N. I got caught up in everything—my career, Odessa—and I didn’t stop to think about how it was affecting you. And I hate myself for that.”
You wiped at your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but the hurt still sat heavy in your chest. “You forgot me,” you whispered, the words so quiet you weren’t sure if he even heard them. “I was there for you through everything, and when I needed you, you forgot me.”
Drew’s face contorted with guilt and pain, and he stepped closer, his voice pleading. “I didn’t forget you, Y/N. I swear, I didn’t. I just... I got lost. I let everything else consume me, and I pushed you away without even realizing it. But I never stopped caring about you. I never stopped needing you in my life.”
You met his gaze, your heart aching at the raw vulnerability in his eyes. Part of you wanted to believe him—to believe that he hadn’t meant to hurt you, that he was still the same Drew you had always known. But the pain was still too fresh, too raw.
“You didn’t need me, Drew,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You needed her. Every time I saw you, it was like I was just... there. Like I was some ghost from your past, watching as you built a new life without me.”
Drew shook his head, his voice breaking. “No. No, that’s not true. Odessa was just... she was just a friend. I never saw her as anything more. But you—I’ve always seen you. You’ve always been more than just a friend to me.”
Your breath hitched, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave. “What are you saying, Drew?”
“I’m saying that I love you, Y/N,” Drew said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve loved you for so long, but I was too blind to see it. Too blind to realize how much I was hurting you by pushing you away. But it’s always been you. It’s always been you, and I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”
You stared at him, your heart racing, your mind struggling to process what he had just said. “Don’t say that, Drew. Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
“I do mean it,” Drew insisted, stepping closer to you. “I’ve been an idiot, Y/N. I let everything else get in the way, and I lost sight of what really mattered. But you—you’re what matters. You’ve always been the one who’s mattered the most to me.”
Tears filled your eyes once again, your heart warring with your mind. You had waited so long to hear those words, but now that they were finally being spoken, you didn’t know what to do with them.
“How can I believe you?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “How can I believe that you won’t hurt me again? That you won’t forget me the next time something else comes along?”
Drew’s eyes filled with desperation as he reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. “I won’t forget you. I swear, Y/N, I won’t. I’ve already hurt you once, and I will never make that mistake again. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’re the most important person to me. Just... please, give me another chance.”
You closed your eyes, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to let go of the hurt and let Drew back into your life. But trust wasn’t something that could be rebuilt overnight.
“I need time,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I need time to heal, to figure out if I can really trust you again.”
Drew nodded, his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. “I understand. I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as it takes, Y/N. Just please... don’t shut me out completely.”
You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and for the first time in a long while, you saw the Drew you had always known—the Drew who had stood by your side through everything, who had been your rock when the world felt too heavy.
“I won’t shut you out,” you said softly, your heart aching with the weight of it all. “But this... it’s going to take time.”
Drew nodded again, his relief palpable as he let out a shaky breath. “I’ll be here. No matter how long it takes.”
With that, Drew slowly stepped back, giving you the space you needed. The air between you was still heavy with unresolved emotions, but for the first time in months, there was a glimmer of hope. A possibility that maybe, just maybe, things could be repaired.
As Drew turned to leave, he glanced back at you, his voice soft but filled with quiet determination. “I love you, Y/N. And I’m not going to give up on us.”
You watched him go, your heart conflicted but not as heavy as it had been before. There was still so much to work through, but for the first time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you and Drew had a chance to find your way back to each other.
The days after the confrontation felt different. Lighter, but still uncertain. The emotional heaviness lingered between you and Drew, but there was something else now—a shared understanding that things needed time, that rushing back into the past wasn’t an option.
Drew kept his word. He didn’t push you, didn’t try to force himself back into your life as if nothing had happened. Instead, he started with small gestures—things that reminded you of the Drew you had known before everything changed.
Each morning, you woke up to a text from Drew. Simple things, like: "I saw the sunrise today and thought of you. Miss those mornings." Or, "Found an old photo of us. Remember this day?" They were small messages, but they carried the weight of years of shared history and memories you had thought were forgotten.
One evening, about a week after the confrontation, Drew showed up at your door with coffee in hand. The sight of him standing there with your favorite caramel macchiato, looking uncertain but hopeful, stirred something inside you.
“I thought you could use this,” Drew said, offering a small smile. “And I... was hoping we could talk. Just for a little while.”
You hesitated, but then nodded, stepping aside to let him in. Drew walked into your living room, his movements tentative, like he wasn’t sure where he stood anymore.
As you sat together on the couch, sipping your coffee, the silence between you was less suffocating than before. There was still a lot to work through, but at least the distance wasn’t unbearable. Drew glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the framed photo of the two of you from years ago, taken on a family trip to the beach. The both of you were grinning wildly, arms around each other, as if nothing in the world could break your bond.
“I remember that day,” Drew said quietly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “We spent hours building a sandcastle. It collapsed after five minutes, but we didn’t care. We thought it was the best thing ever.”
You chuckled softly, the memory warming something inside you. “Yeah, we were so proud of it.”
Drew shifted in his seat, his expression turning more serious. “I miss those days, Y/N. I miss us. I know I messed up, and I know it’ll take time, but... I want to get back to that.”
You turned to look at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. For so long, you had felt like you had lost Drew—the Drew who had been your best friend, your confidant, the person who knew you better than anyone. But now, sitting here with him, you realized that maybe he hadn’t been lost forever. Maybe he was still there, waiting for you to let him back in.
“I miss it too,” you admitted, your voice soft but full of emotion. “But... I need time, Drew. This isn’t something that can be fixed overnight.”
“I know,” Drew said, nodding. “And I’m not going to rush you. I’ll take as much time as you need.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could be different this time. Maybe you could rebuild what had been broken.
The weeks that followed were a slow process of healing and reconnection. Drew made an effort—an effort you hadn’t seen from him in months. He started texting you every morning, checking in to see how your day was going. The texts weren’t long or overly sentimental, but they were consistent. They were proof that he was thinking about you, even in the midst of his busy schedule.
Some days, the texts were simple:
"How’s work going? Thought of you when I passed by the old park today."
Other days, they carried a heavier weight:
"I’m sorry again, Y/N. For everything. I just want you to know that I’m still here."
And as time passed, you found yourself replying more. The walls you had built up around your heart began to slowly crumble, brick by brick. Drew wasn’t just making promises—he was showing you that he meant them. He wasn’t rushing you or pushing for more than you were ready to give. He was patient, and that patience made all the difference.
One afternoon, Drew surprised you by inviting you to lunch at the café you both used to frequent when you were younger. It had been years since you’d been there together, but as you sat across from each other, sipping coffee and talking about nothing in particular, it felt like you were slowly returning to a version of yourselves that had been lost.
The conversations were lighter, more comfortable. Drew listened intently when you talked about work, your hobbies, the things that had filled your life in the time you had drifted apart. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t competing with Odessa or his career for his attention. Drew was fully present, and that made all the difference.
A few weeks later, Drew showed up at your door with something unexpected—a small gift bag in hand, looking both nervous and hopeful.
“I, uh, thought I’d bring this over,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know it’s not much, but I saw it and thought of you.”
You raised an eyebrow, curious, and took the bag from him. Inside was a small journal, the cover embossed with the words “For Every Sunrise.” Your breath caught in your throat as you pulled it out, your fingers tracing the delicate lettering.
“I know how much you love watching the sunrise,” Drew explained, his voice soft. “I thought maybe... you could use this to write down your thoughts. Or even just to keep track of the sunrises you’ve seen.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness behind the gift. Drew had always known how much sunrises meant to you—those quiet moments when the world was still, when everything felt possible. And now, here he was, reminding you of those moments in a way that felt so personal, so deeply connected to the history you shared.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s perfect.”
Drew smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “I’m glad you like it.”
For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were being seen. Not just as someone in Drew’s life, but as someone important. Someone who mattered.
As the weeks turned into months, you and Drew continued to rebuild your relationship—slowly, carefully. There were still moments of doubt, moments when the hurt resurfaced and threatened to pull you back into the past. But Drew was patient. He never rushed you, never pushed you to move faster than you were ready for. Instead, he met you where you were, showing up for you in the ways that mattered most.
One day, Drew suggested a walk through the old park you used to visit as kids. It had been years since you had walked those paths together, but as you strolled through the park, side by side, it felt like you were reclaiming a piece of the past that had been lost.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” Drew said as you walked, his voice quiet but steady. “About how much we’ve been through together.”
You glanced over at him, your heart tightening at the vulnerability in his voice. “Yeah, me too.”
Drew stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His eyes were filled with a kind of determination you hadn’t seen in a long time. “I don’t want to take you for granted anymore, Y/N. I’ve been thinking about everything, and I know I hurt you. I know it’s going to take time to earn back your trust, but I want to be the person you can count on again. The person you deserve.”
You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you—it was different now. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. He meant every word.
“I want that too,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I need to know that this time... this time, it’s real.”
“It is,” Drew promised, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear, Y/N, it’s real.”
And in that moment, as the sun began to set behind the trees, casting a golden glow over the park, you knew that maybe—just maybe—you and Drew were finally on the right path. It wasn’t going to be easy, and there were still wounds that needed time to heal, but for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could trust him again. Trust that he wasn’t going to let you down.
Months passed, and the slow process of rebuilding trust continued. Drew didn’t let up on his efforts—he made time for you, prioritized you, and showed you in small, meaningful ways that he was committed to repairing the damage that had been done.
The two of you began to fall back into an easy rhythm. Movie nights, long conversations over coffee, quiet walks through the park—it was like rediscovering an old friendship, but with the added depth of everything you had been through. The love you had for each other was still there, but now, it was stronger, more resilient.
One evening, Drew invited you to his house for dinner. It was just the two of you, and as you sat together on the back porch, watching the sunset, you felt a sense of peace settle over you—a peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about the future,” Drew said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you.
You turned to look at him, your heart skipping a beat. “Yeah? What about it?”
Drew’s eyes softened as he reached out and took your hand, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. “About us. About what we want.”
You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening at the intensity of his gaze. “And what do you want, Drew?”
“I want you,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want you in my life, in every way. I don’t want to lose you again, Y/N. I love you. I always have.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as his words washed over you. It had taken so long to get to this point, to rebuild what had been broken, but now, sitting here with Drew, you knew that it had all been worth it.
“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I don’t want to lose you either.”
Drew smiled, his eyes filled with relief and happiness. “Then let’s not waste any more time. Let’s be together.”
And as he leaned in to kiss you, the weight of all the past hurt and pain seemed to fade away, leaving only the promise of a future—together.
THE END!!
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i was thinking about writing a drabbles for this, hehe maybe their future together, if you have any suggestion, ask box are always open!! and i hope you all enjoy this imagine 🖤
845 notes · View notes
haetrack · 10 months ago
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spur of the moment (ldh) | pt. 2
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please read part 1 before reading to better understand the story!
haechan x afab!reader
wc: 10k (...)
warnings: MDNI, fluff and (mostly) smut, dirty thoughts, inexperienced!haechan, a first hangout, reader finds fleshlight, handjob, handjob with a fleshlight, mention of a dildo, ruined orgasm, slight nipple play, dirty talk, they are both very shameless and perverts, fingering, unprotected sex (NOOO!!!), no clear dynamics but they both talk so much, they like it a lot
a/n: happy new years everyone! first fic of the year will be part two! thank u all so much for the support on the first part! i enjoyed writing this and i hope u guys like it as much as i do… please let me know what u guys think!!
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the next day, haechan debates on whether or not he wants to go to class.
it doesn’t help that you came out in his dream, squirming under him and asking to be filled up by his cock. it’s nothing he hasn’t experienced (he’s not a pervert, he swears), but after last night, it all feels new to him. the thought of being so close to you and not being able to do anything about it makes him feel a little crazy. then again, he can always just ask you to hang out.
it’s really not that easy, he thinks. you’re kinda way out of his league and he wonders if you even remember his name. you seem to talk to a select few in your shared class, which makes haechan wonder why you chose to talk to him that specific morning. it wasn’t serious or anything, but he wishes he would have seemed a little cooler. curse his only-shy-on-first-meetings self.
today is slightly different though, when he enters the classroom five minutes before, he doesn’t see you in your normal spot, laptop out and your journal filled with handwritten notes in front of you. he scans the room to realize that you’re not even there. he feels relieved yet disappointed as he takes his seat. he swears that he had enough confidence to talk to you today, but it turns out he won’t be able to live it out.
once he settles with that thought, a minute before the class starts, the door slams open and you rush in. realizing that your seat has been taken by someone else, you look for any empty seats. there’s only one close to the front.
while haechan lazily scrolls through his phone, he realizes someone is rushing down his row, stopping right at the empty seat next to him. he looks up to see you smiling down at him, “can i sit here, haechan?”
his whole body goes rigid, mouth slightly open as he stares at you for a moment too long. you look away at his intense eye contact, to which he notices and quickly motions for you to sit down. you thank him quietly, moving fast to get yourself set up. while you’re setting up, you accidentally bump your arm against his, causing his breath to hitch. you take it as slight annoyance, “sorry haechan!” you send an easy smile towards him, but that only reminds him of last night.
he can’t focus throughout the lecture. you’re sitting right next to him, minding your business, all while dirty thoughts of you and him replay in his mind. he wonders if you would reach over and whisper in his ear, begging to let you touch him during class. the back of his neck feels hot, and he tries to stop the blush that threatens to form on his cheeks. he would rather die than get horny in class.
he takes a few deep breaths, trying to focus on his professor droning on about utilitarianism. he takes a peek over at you scribbling down notes. you have a slight frown on your face coming from how hard you’re focusing on writing down notes. your focus breaks when you feel a pair of eyes on you, and you turn to look at haechan. he immediately turns to typing his notes on his laptop, and you can see how his skin has turned a pretty shade of pink on his cheeks.
you’ve had your eyes on him since you asked him how his morning was. you found it cute how he stuttered when you asked, trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with you. later that night, you tried to search him on instagram, and lo and behold, there he was, a private account with 90 followers to his name. you decided to hold off from talking to him, seeing if he would ever make a move on you.
now that you can visibly see how nervous he is just by you sitting next to him, you know you have to do something about it. you can’t wait until class ends. 
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when class ends, haechan tries to see how fast he can make his escape. completely ignoring how he stood in front of his mirror this morning planning what he wanted to say to you, he wonders if he could just slip past you. he shoves his laptop into his backpack and tries to beeline out the door as soon as his professor ends class. 
before he can make it out though, a hand grabs his arm, and he turns to look down at you. a sickly sweet smile adorned on your face as you ask, “what are you going to do after class, haechan?”
it’s as if you could see right through him, his actions from last night plastered on his face as he answers you, “um, i was probably going to go back to my apartment to look over today's notes…” a complete lie, he was going to go back to his apartment to think about his utter failure today. maybe even get off to the thought of you again, how nice it felt to have you so close, how you basically touched him today, how sweet your smile was.
“that’s perfect actually! i wanted to ask if you wanted to go over the lecture together. you seemed a little distracted today,” you let out a small laugh, seeing how different his demeanor was while you were next to him. he wanted to look cool in front of you, but instead you saw how shy he was. he was so loud with his friends, but with new people, especially with someone like you, he couldn’t help being like this.
“yeah, that’s- i can do that with you,” he’s not really looking at you, and when he gets up, he tries not to invade your personal space. you remove your hand from him and he wishes he could grab it back. he wishes he could intertwine his hand with yours and show everyone that you’re his. but for now, he follows you out of class like a lost puppy. 
“i would invite you over to my place,” he stops in his tracks and you look back at him, “but i have a roommate there right now.” he feels a little disappointed. he would’ve liked to see your room, be surrounded by your smell, to have you so close to him. then again, he’s not sure if he’d be able to hold back. as soon as you’d come close to him in your private space, he’d probably get hard on the spot.
he rushes to at least hold open the door for you, and you cock your head to the side and ask, “what about you? would it be okay to go to your place?”
you’re both standing there in the hallway of your class’s building. he thinks about it, he really tries to think of it. theres pros and cons to you being in his apartment. pros: you’d be there, and in the comfort of his own space, he’d feel a bit more confident. cons: you’d be there, he’s not sure how he’d feel about you being in the area where he just fucked a fleshlight thinking of you.
he messes with his fingers and bites the inside of his cheek, thinking about what he should do. he lets out a small breath and quietly says, “you can come over. i live by myself, so we can study there.”
you grin at his words, happy that you were able to persuade him. you’ve seen him talk to his friends, always leading the conversation, always making them laugh. so to see him rendered like this makes you wonder what he’s hiding. you can tell he likes you, but there’s something under his embarrassment, something he would never tell anyone. you'll find out today one way or another.
“did you come walking here? because i did,” you ask.
“no, i get here by car…” his sentence trails off and you give him a questioning look. his mouth opens and closes before he says, “would you like me to drive you?”
you laugh at him, your shoulder bumping into him, making him flinch a little. “i would love that.”
a shy smile appears on his face and you can’t help but smile back at him. he leads you to his car while you try to make small talk with him. you ask how the class has been for him, ask if living alone is nice, ask about his hobbies. he answers in short sentences, frustrated with himself for not being able to match your energy. he knows he can carry conversation, his own friends telling him he needs to learn how to shut up, but he just can’t do it now. he’s too concerned with his own thoughts.
he wonders if people are looking at the two of you heading to the parking lot. he wonders if you both look like a couple, talking like you both have known each other for a long time. haechan knows he wouldn’t normally be seen with someone like you, someone who seems too good for him. if he would tell his friends who he’s with right now, he’s sure that they’d call him a liar.
none of that really matters though, not when you’re walking side by side with him, your comforting personality putting him at ease. he’s sure that as long as he gets more chances to talk to you, he’d be able to comfortably talk to you. he feels good with you here, but it’s hard to ignore the little twinge of guilt at the back of his head. he tries to pretend he wasn’t furiously masturbating to the thought of you the night before, but it’s hard to ignore.
he unlocks his car and invites you in, and you happily call shotgun even if no one else is around. even though he’s nervous, he tries to start the conversation first, “you can put on music if you want, it’s not too far of a drive anyways.” 
“i think i’m good, i’d rather talk to you more than anything,” you say with a sly smile. he feels a small blush form on his face. he can tell you notice it too when you chuckle at him, he covers his face with his hands. while you’re laughing at him, you put your hand down on his thigh. he immediately sits straight up, probably- no, definitely, red all over. he starts the car as fast as he can to try to stop thinking about how warm your hand was on his thigh.
it’s only twenty minutes, he thinks, twenty minutes of being trapped in a small space with you. you just touched him, and now it feels hard for him to breathe in his own car. the thought of fucking you in the backseat of his car creeps into his mind, and he feels relieved that you can’t secretly read his mind. you would both rush to the back, your hot touch all over as you fervently grind down onto him.
he can feel his dick begin stirring in his sweats, and he remembers you are quite literally sitting right there next to him. he’s scared to look at you, scared you’ve found out that he’s kind of a freak when it comes to you. but when he looks, he’s greeted by the simple sight of you staring out the window, your cheek resting on your hand. it puts him at ease, makes him want to reach over to your other hand and hold onto it.
he realizes he likes seeing this version of you. you look so calm, free from the stress of lecture, relaxed by the view of the pretty scenery around you. he smiles at you, admiring you from afar, despite the close distance you two share. he lets go of the breath he was holding, wills his away semi-hardon, and clears his throat. “can i ask why you wanted to talk to me today?”
“i’m not really sure either,” you answer honestly, “i’ve talked to a few people in class but none of them interest me as much as you do.” haechan isn't really sure what you mean yet, so he waits for you to continue. before you do though, you move out of the position you’ve been in, arms stretching in front of you. what seems so innocent deems quite differently for haechan. he sees how your boobs are pushed together, a small moan slipping out of your lips. he has to look away for a moment.
“i think it has to do with the fact that i know how much you stare at me.” you answer, shifting your body to face him.
he immediately spills out apologies, “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! you just happen to sit in front of me so- i didn't-”
it’s your turn to apologize, “no! i didn’t say i didn’t like it,” his head whips to look at you for a moment, “it’s just, you never came up to me, never said hi, just stared.” he feels his face heat up, realizing he wasn’t as discreet as he thought he was. all the time he spent daydreaming about you in class never went unnoticed, he simply was too lost in his fantasies to realize you were staring right back. “i always wondered what you were thinking, for a second i even thought you hated me.”
he shakes his head, one that feels like it’s saying that he could never hate you. “what’s your major?” he questions.
“psychology.” you smirk and he immediately nods, knowing fully well you can probably read him like an open book. you laugh hard at this, and haechan realizes how much he likes hearing you laugh, hearing how you’re laughing at his jokes. he realizes he’s getting in too deep when he doesn’t just have these sexual thoughts about you, but also thoughts of just being around you feel like they’re enough.
“we’re almost there, just a few more minutes,” haechan says, and he kind of wants you both to stay like this in the comfort of his car. he’s used to it now, talking to you in this small bubble. he feels a little less shy, a little more like the man he thought he was last night.
“that’s good,” a yawn cuts you off, “i was getting a little tired of being in here.”
“getting bored of me that fast?” he teases, happy with how he’s opening up.
you softly laugh, “no, it’s just that i fell asleep kinda late last night. kept thinking about this essay i don’t know how to start.”
he hums at that, “no, i get it. i was up late last night, too.” and as soon as he says it, he regrets it. there’s a small chance you might ask him what he was doing, but there’s also a big chance you might just agree and move on. he hopes, he prays that you could just talk about that essay-
“what were you up to so late?” you ask, no harm behind your words.
he feels hot at the back of his neck, his grip tightens on the wheel as he tries to come up with an answer. well, he knows what the answer is, fucking a fleshlight to the thought of you, but he can’t exactly say that. “well- there was- no, still is-” he takes a breath before speaking again, “there’s a special event for this game i play online. i was stuck at my desk all day,” he nervously laughs, trying to deflect his own thoughts. 
you brush past his words, seemingly convinced, “you’ll have to teach me how to play sometime.”
he nods, smiling due to the image in his head. buying another gaming chair, seated right next to you as you clumsily press down on the keys on his keyboard. he’ll groan in frustration with you when you die, he’ll laugh when you absolutely miss a shot, he'll celebrate your first win. he’ll plant a messy kiss to your cheek as you thank him for teaching you. he’ll do it all.
he lets you know which is his apartment complex, “it’s not anything crazy, but it’s done what it needs to do.”
“i’m sure it’s fine, probably better than how my roommate leaves the apartment looking,” you joke, and he wonders if you’d say yes if he asked you to move in one day. of course, he knows this is literally the first day he's talked to you, but he can’t keep these feelings from floating around in his head. 
he parks his car and you both head inside. it’s relatively silent, save for the small gasp you let out at how the inside looks nice. once you make it to the elevator, he presses the seventh floor button. he didn’t really think about it before, but he realizes how nice you smell. if you were already dating, he’d hold you in a backhug, pressing his nose to your neck, inhaling your scent as the elevator rolls up. but for now, all he can do is rock back and forth on his heels as he waits for the elevator doors to open, freeing his mind from your scent.
you both safely make it to his apartment and he fishes out his keys from his jacket pocket. he unlocks the door, holding it open for you as you thank him and step inside. he flicks on the light switch and you stand there, taking in his apartment.
it’s simple enough for a man in college. it reflects how you see him, and you can’t help the grin that forms on your face, “this is just like you, haechan.”
he’s a little nervous, hands slightly sweaty seeing you in his apartment, “good or bad?”
“good! it also smells nice in here.”
your comment surprises him a little. he doesn’t really use any candles or sprays, which sounds gross, but he also doesn’t leave his place messy. he doesn’t like artificial scents, too much for his nose and gives him small headaches. as far as he’s concerned, what you’re smelling is purely him. this realization makes his heart beat a little faster, the back of his neck becoming hot.
“thank you,” a genuine smile crosses his face, and you beam back at him, “you can put your stuff here, we can study here in the living room.” 
you move to sit in front of the small coffee table next to his couch. you look nice in his place, like you’ve always been there. you unload your items, looking up to him and patting the spot right next to you. “i’m gonna go to my room really quick, i just need to check on something.”
you playfully tell him to hurry and he salutes you, trotting to his room. he quietly locks the door and assesses the state of his room. it’s not horribly messy, so he leaves it be. his conscious tells him to go to the restroom and freshen up a little. he looks at himself in the mirror, his face reflecting back at him. he remembers last night, in this exact spot, wishing you were there with him as he got off to you. except now, you’re here, and he feels a little guilty.
he moves to wash his hands and splatters some water in his face. he huffs, then messes with his hair, trying to make it look a little better for you. when he feels ready, he walks out of the restroom, and takes one last peek into his room. though he was begging for your touch last night, he’s content just with your presence here, happy that you decided on your own that you wanted to be here with him. 
when haechan meets you back in his living room, it feels natural. he softly calls out your name and you turn around, a smile already plastered on your face. he smiles back, moving to the spot right next to you. it’s nerve wracking being so close to you, but for your sake, he pushes his nerves back as far as he can. 
for the next hour, you both sit there talking about what was discussed during the lecture. it turns out he did in fact miss quite a lot of notes, having to sheepishly copy down the ones you’ve written. you lightly scold him for not paying attention, and he can’t help let his mind wander to how you might scold him during sex.
he also can’t help but just be a little distracted. nodding along to your words while his eyes trail down to your lips. how your thigh is pressed snugly against his. how your hands brush over his while you explain your notes to him. he’s not sure if you’re doing this on purpose, but his deprived mind can’t help but hope. haechan is enamored with you, he wishes he could kiss you right here, pull you onto his lap and just enjoy how close you are to him.
after a few more minutes, you stretch just as you did in the car, which makes haechan clear his throat. “fifteen minute break, haechan,” you remind him while fighting back a yawn.
“do you want anything to eat or drink? i just realized i never even offered you anything when you came in,” haechan frowns, causing you to giggle from your end. you stand up from your place and stretch your arms up, causing the bottom of your top to ride up, exposing your midriff. his breath gets caught in his throat as he just stares, all the way until your soft skin is hidden once more.
“i think i’m good for now,” the way you’re looking at him makes him feel like he was caught staring, “but maybe just the restroom?”
“yeah, um, it’s connected to my bedroom so i’ll just… show you the way.” his hands are getting sweaty again. he tries to hide how guilty he feels, and if you were to put your palm to his cheek, you would feel how warm he was.
he leads you to his bedroom while you trail behind him. you smile to yourself with how nice he’s being with all this, showing you how much he likes you. you’re about to see his room, something that could be considered private for a lot of people. you put your focus back to him, staring at how broad he looks from the back. if only he could turn around and see how badly you want him too.
he opens the door for you, and you gasp out in amazement, pulling a shy giggle out of haechan. you don’t miss how shaky his hand is when he reaches for the door handle, “the restroom is over here, i can wait back in the living room if you’d like.”
“no, it’s fine! wait for me out here so you can give me a room tour when i’m done,” you say before closing the door. as soon as it’s closed, he starts freaking out. he’s room looks fine, but it just… doesn’t feel fine? he’s so scared that there might be something out of place, even if he knows it looks fine. he calms himself down and moves to sit down on his gaming chair. while he waits for you, he practices what he wants to say while giving you a mini tour of his room.
once you come out, you spot him lounging on his chair. he looks so good when he’s in his natural state, different from the haechan you’re used to seeing in class. when he meets your eyes, he looks a little nervous, but puts on a more confident demeanor.
“are you ready for this?” he asks, and you nod excitedly at his words, “so there’s my bed, my gaming setup, closet, dresser, and tv. boom. done.”
you laugh hard at him, “there’s no way!”
he’s laughing alongside next you, body leaning into you without even knowing, “i did what you asked! it’s not my fault i’m a simple man with simple needs.” 
“so like, no explanation or anything? just an ‘i live here’ kinda vibe?” 
“exactly, this is pure vibes. nothing more and nothing less.” your body presses against his side while you’re laughing, and he just lets it happen. he’s glad that he’s beginning to be more comfortable around you. he lets you walk around a bit, let’s you hover over his desk, too scared to touch anything on it. 
“show me the game you were talking about! i can’t believe you let me take away some of your precious gaming time by coming over.” you say, motioning for him to sit down on his chair again.
he obliges, sitting down on his chair and turns on his computer. “i’d only do that for special occasions, so… i had to do it this time, too.” he doesn’t look at you when he says it, but you can tell he’s embarrassed by his own words, his ears turning red.
once the game boots up, he lets you know about the basics of overwatch and its seasonal events. he swears that he’s good at the game and that you would end up a pro player if you let him teach you. even though he’s explaining all this to you, you don’t really get all the terms he’s saying. you’re just happy that he’s letting you in on his hobbies. 
while he’s going through the tutorial for you, your attention turns back to his room. it feels like him, very simple decoration and a gray-scale color scheme fill his room. you can tell he spends most of his time at his desk, more decorated and colorful than any other part of his room. when you scan his room one last time, you spot a picture frame on his nightstand. you quietly slip away from his lecturing of the game.
haechan doesn’t realize it, but at some point, you moved away from him. it isn’t until he hears a loud woah! and a small thump, to which he turns around and spots you by his bed, holding onto the edge of it to hold your balance. he feels his heart thump in his chest, you being too close to his bed for comfort.
“you okay?” haechan asks, trying to hide how shaky his voice is.
“i’m good, just tripped on something trying to see what was on your nightstand.” and while you're crouched on the floor trying to calm yourself, you see what you tripped on. a corner of a box. you didn’t mean to intrude, but you subconsciously pull it out from under his bed. inside it contained something you never thought you would see. you stand back up, still looking down at the content of the box. 
something doesn’t feel right to haechan. you’re staring down still, a shocked look all over your face. this doesn’t feel right at all. he haphazardly stands up, not sure if he should move towards you or not. “what’s wrong?”
“haechan…” you say his name, your voice coming out a lot quieter and breathier than you mean it to.
he takes a step forward before he sees you reach down, your back now towards him. he says your name quietly and your face turns towards him. “haechan… can i ask you what this is?”
you’re holding his fleshlight. his fleshlight. the fleshlight he quite literally used to cum with last night to the thought of you. he feels dizzy, suddenly unable to breathe. how did you even find that? he swears he hid it back under his bed last night. are you going to hate him? will you think he’s the most disgusting person on the planet?
his thoughts are silenced by your voice, “do you use it, haechan?” you fully face him now, your face devoid of any emotion.
“i don’t- i don’t know what…” he could cry, really. he’s shaking, too scared to form a proper sentence. this feels like the ultimate karma, the person of his desire finding out his secret. you don’t even know what he’s done to it, you don’t know he fucked it with the thought of you in his mind. you creep closer to him, until he falls back into his chair to move away from you. 
you move to stand in front of him, looking down at how he cowers under you. “did it feel good, haechan?” 
“w-what?” his voice is light, breath too heavy. 
“did it feel good fucking it, haechan?” you slowly lower yourself onto his thighs, and he goes rigid under you. he’s not sure how to feel right now, he’s scared but you’re sitting on top of him, waiting patiently for his answer. you know you won’t get it like this though, not when he’s frozen with you on top of him.
“tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop,” your eyes scan his face for any hesitation, and he stares back at you with a dazed look in his eyes. before you know it, he lurches forward and closes the space between you with a kiss. he tries to deepen it, but before any of this can escalate, you say, “not like this, tell me with your words how much you want this.”
“want this,” he tries to lean forward again but you stop him, “want this so bad- want you so bad.” 
you smile, “good answer.”
you lean forward to kiss him, and he feels how close you are to sitting on top of his bulge. he realizes that this is very real, and instead of just fantasizing about it, he can pull you closer, let your warmth sit right on top of his dick as he kisses you. he uses this opportunity to deepen it. he tilts his head a bit more, tongue tracing the inside of your mouth. it’s a bit messy, but you can’t help but like that about haechan.
you’re quick to let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth, his shy demeanor taken over by his desperation. all while this is happening, he begins to move your hips for you, rocking you slowly back and forth onto his dick. a small groan leaves his mouth for the first time today, and you smile sweetly into the kiss. your hands also begin to move, one moving to the side of his neck and the other moving up to his hair.
you can tell he’s running out of breath pretty fast, and when you feel him move away to breathe, you tug lightly onto his hair. what you get is a breathy whine and his hips rutting up into yours. you gasp in surprise, and haechan loves the sound too much to where he excitedly tries to kiss you again. he misses, kissing the corner of your mouth as you giggle at him. he’s not even embarrassed, whatever you enjoy, he’ll like too.
a few minutes pass like this and his hands are still around your hips. they squeeze and push you around, but he doesn’t move them from that spot. you take your hands to the tops of his and move them up so that they’re under your shirt. he pulls his mouth away from you to stare back at you, wordlessly asking if he can touch some more. you nod, and you move to pull off your shirt.
he stares. he’s not shy with it, either. his eyes are fixated on the curves of your body, your chest that's covered by the bra you’re wearing. you’re really everything he dreamt of and more, he thinks. he has no control of his body anymore, so when he moves to settle in the crook of your neck while his hands try to touch as much of you as possible, he doesn’t try to stop it. 
he inhales your scent sharply, presses his nose down onto your neck in order to savor how good you smell. his hands continue moving before they stop underneath the cup of your bra. you whisper for him to take it off, his shaky hands moving to your back. he’s a little confused with how it works, never once having to take it off himself. he keeps trying though, and you think his persistence is cute.
your hands move to your back to help him out, unclasping your bra and letting it slowly slide off of you. haechan takes this in, drinking up the sight of your bare chest. his hands rest at your sides, his body turning against him at the sight of your skin. you laugh at him before pressing a kiss to the pulse point on his wrist, encouraging him to continue. he does, he lets all the pent up frustration from your boobs take over, placing his hands over them, groping lightly.
you arch your back into his touch, moaning out his name. he looks up at you, gauging your reaction when he rolls your nipples in his fingers. he feels you grind down hard onto him, hands moving up onto his biceps and nails digging in. it hurts him a little, but it blends into a light pleasure. you look a mess on top of him, moaning into his ear how good it feels. he’s panting lightly, you being almost too overwhelming for him to handle.
he realizes the dull pain from your nails on his biceps is gone, and his feels your cold fingertips trail under his shirt. his stomach twitches at the feeling, his movement on your chest halting for just a moment. he continues though, moaning out a, “keep touching me. like it so much.”
so you continue. your hands touch over the soft skin of his stomach, feeling the light hairs trailing down to his cock. you feel his pretty waist, having a small grip on it to help placate you. your hands move up to his chest, and you look up at him with puppy eyes, asking if you could slide it off. he nods quickly and removes his shirt for you, letting you have free access to do whatever you want. 
you moan out softly at the sight of his pretty skin. he continues his ministrations on you, and you just stare at his body. you’re almost tempted to just fall completely on him, letting him do whatever he’d want with you. but you still have half a mind, and you look back to his chest. you run your nails along the expanse of the newly exposed skin, his muscles twitching under the feeling. your hands move back up, and the urge to hear him whimper is too high.
haechan thinks he’s on cloud 9 right now, happily rocking into you and touching your chest like he always imagined he would. it’s not until he feels a pinch to his nipples that he lets out a loud whimper followed by your name, hips roughly bucking up into you. you stare at him, getting the exact reaction that you wanted. his arms move to cover his face, and he lets out a weak more, please, much to your excitement. 
your fingers move back to his nipples and he realizes how much he loves this. he’s never done this to himself, nor did it happen the one time he had sex. he lets you work on him, he can tell how much you’re enjoying his reactions. choked back moans and high-pitched whimpers fill the air, his hips mindlessly rutting up into you. he just lets you do whatever you want, and the thought of this fills you with excitement. 
you can feel how hard he is under you. he humps slowly onto you, letting you feel every inch of his cock. it feels good, and if it weren’t for how concentrated you were on his chest, you would’ve already been begging for him to fuck you. the thing is, you can begin to feel him twitch under you. you can tell he’s close, moans of your name and him asking you to continue is all you can hear. you begin rolling your hips onto him again, adding more stimulation on more parts of his body. 
his hands move over to grip your ass, grinding you quickly down on him. he’s moaning straight to your ear, incoherent sentences mumbled out, and as much as you want to cum like this, there’s something else you’d like to do. you let him get close to cumming, you let him dig his blunt nails into you, you let him whimper your name into your ear. right when he’s about to cum, you pull away from him completely. 
“do you trust me?” you ask, pretty smile planted on your face.
haechan can barely hear you, his orgasm being ripped away from him. in one moment, he had your warm body all over him, and in another, it was all taken away. his ears are slightly ringing and his dick is twitch heavily in his sweats, his body aching to be with yours again.
you can tell he didn’t hear what you said, so you put your finger under his chin to make him look straight at you. you repeat your question and he agrees quickly, desperation clearly taken over. you sit on the corner of his bed, asking him to come and sit with you. when he does, laying on his back while sitting up on his elbows, you position yourself to where you’re laying between both of his legs. he looks down at you expectantly, eyes filled with lust and a twinge of love.
you smile sweetly, and you pull out what you were hiding behind your back. his fleshlight.
he groans, almost telling you to put it away in embarrassment. it’s cute that he’s rendered like this because of a toy. you shush him, calming his nerves. “i just wanna make you feel good,” your hand trails up his thigh, dangerously close to his hard cock, “you said you trust me, right?”
seeing you like this, like he’s seen in all his fantasizing and dreaming, he can’t say no to you. not when you’re looking at him so nicely, a soft pout formed on your lips. he wants to reach down and kiss you, but his curiosity wins. what are you going to do?
his question is answered when you rub your hand over his clothed dick, earning you a soft whimper. you know he’s worked up, no use in continuing teasing him when he’s probably on the verge of cumming. you ask if you can take his sweats off, and he immediately moves to take them off for you. he leaves his boxers on, and you can see how hard he is and how he strains against them. you can’t stop the smirk that forms on your face.
he’s breathing heavily and all you’ve done so far are some light touches. he can feel himself leaking when he takes off his sweats, and when he looks down, there’s an embarrassing wet patch of precum on the front of his boxers. he’s thankful you don’t comment on it, but what he doesn’t expect is for you to lean forward and lick at the patch. he moans out, your tongue pushing the fabric roughly against his tip. 
your hand moves to grip his base all while you begin to suckle on his tip. the stimulation is too much, too suddenly, and he bucks his hips into your face. you smile up at him, your eyes seemingly calling him cute. as much as he wants to shove his cock in your mouth already, he lets you take your time, relishing in how long he’s wanted you like this. you can have him for as long as you want, he thinks, he has all the time in the world with you now.
you eventually pull off his boxers, but you move a bit away from him. he gives you a confused look, but your smile puts all his worries away. he’s given you all his trust, letting you do what you want freely. he only freaks out a little when you pull out his fleshlight, a small smile forming on your face when you say, “gonna ask you some questions, i’ll help you feel good if you answer me.”
he nods slowly, and you reach down and squeeze him one last time. before you start, you ask if there’s any lube and he quickly reaches into his nightstand’s drawer to hand it to you. you have to hide back your laugh at how desperate he is as you squeeze lube into the fleshlight. he looks nervous, but it all fades away when you slide the slick fleshlight over his cock.
his tip is at the entrance of the toy when you ask, “why do you have this?”
“d-didn’t buy it. my friend bought it for me on my birthday…”
“your friend must’ve known you were a pervert, hm?” you say as you push the toy slowly down on his length, eliciting a long groan out of him. letting him sit with the feeling.
you ask another question, “you use it, right?” and before he can deny the claim, you interrupt him, “do you think about me when you do?”
the blush on his face darkens and trails down to his neck. his eyes shut, too embarrassed to answer the question that’s already apparent. to his surprise, you begin to move the toy quickly onto him, catching him off guard. his hips stutter forward as his arm reaches to stop your movements. his body is contrasting his own mind, and all you can do is silently laugh. 
“better question,” you say as you continue your attack on him, “have you had sex before?” 
his eyes open to look back down at you, eyes pleading with you to save him from embarrassment. you just shake your head, slowing down your movements to a stop. whines fill the room as he tries to move on his own. you move to pin his hips down, stopping his movements. “answer my questions or i’ll leave so you can cum on your own again.”
a small moan leaves his mouth as he tilts his head back. he refocuses on you, mouth opening, but nothing comes out. you slowly twist the toy at the base of his cock, your other hand moving to fondle his balls. you can tell he’s fighting back from moving without you telling him to, so he tries to let go of all his embarrassment before he speaks again. “i’ve… only had sex once. in freshman year.”
with delight, you begin moving the fleshlight slowly on him again, encouraging him to continue. “i’ve… thought of you.”
he mumbles the last words, and even though you could hear what he said, you ask him to repeat himself clearly. “t-thought of you, fucked my fleshlight thinking of you.”
his words send shivers down your spine, and you resume the quick movements of the toy back onto his dick. he thanks you without question, and in return, you move to press small, wet kisses to the inside of his thighs. his hips fuck up into the toy as you continue your kisses, haechan feeling overwhelmed by your proximity. he’s been so good, so you decide to reward him with some of your own information.
“how would you feel knowing i fucked myself with a toy, too? imagining it was you fucking my tight pussy?” a choked out moan leaves his lips as he begins moving quickly against the toy. “wished you could’ve heard me moaning your name, wished it was you fucking me instead.”
at this point, you’re just holding the toy in place for him. squeezing it around his dick, his hips shoving into it, wishing it was you. he’s close to cumming, he can feel it, his dick throbbing, heart hammering in his chest. he’s about to start begging for you to let him cum, but before he can, you say, “guess that makes us both perverts, huh? i like you just as much as you like me.”
he cums on the spot. you quickly pull the toy off of him, the sight of his cum shooting all over his chest, whimpers of your name mixed with frustration fill the air. you just lay there, laughing at him while he tries to save his ruined orgasm. you pry his hands off of himself and he just shuts his eyes, trying to catch his breath. your tongue reaches out to clean the leftover cum on his tip, and he yelps at the sensation, so you move up to clean the cum off of his chest.
once you finish, you reach up to softly kiss him. it contrasts your previous movements, and he’s stuck thinking about how you said you like him. he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, scared that you didn’t really mean what you said. he lets you kiss him, hands at your waist, lips pressing softly together.
he pushes you onto your back, laying your head softly onto his pillow. he stares at you openly, clad in just your panties. his mouth runs dry, he never thought he’d get to see you like this in his room, looking only at him. his shaky hands reach forward, one resting at your waist while the other reaches for the top of your panties, waiting for you to say he can pull them down. 
you let him, and he does. he really wishes he could shove them in his drawer, keeping it as a memory of this day, using them when thinking of you. he pushes them aside and looks down at you. your legs spread open for him to see. it’s your turn to feel a little shy, the guy who always stares at you in class now staring at your most intimate parts.
“show me how… show me how to touch you…” haechan whispers out to you, and you bite back a smile.
“was fucking someone else not enough? fucking a fleshlight wasn’t enough either?” you retort, and haechan shakes his head in embarrassment, but you can feel his dick twitch against your thigh in interest at your words. you do what he asked, one hand slithering down to your aching pussy.
he watches closely as your fingers circle around the little nub, watching as your hips twitch a little at the stimulation. “it feels best when you rub me here,” a small moan escapes your lips and you feel him subconsciously rub his dick into your thigh. 
when you feel yourself becoming sufficiently wet, you move your fingers to your entrance, teasing your twitching hole. “you’re gonna put your fingers in here, in and out of me. bet they’d feel so nice.”
he nods along dazedly, and you move to grab his fingers to replace yours. “go ahead, haechan.”
it’s so warm, so wet. he can’t believe he thought the fleshlight was good enough, not when you exist. when he pushes two fingers in, you slightly clench around his fingers and he has to hold back a moan. he can’t believe you’re letting him do this, and he looks down at you, your face scrunched in pleasure.
he scissors his fingers inside you like he does with his fleshlight. he’s not too inexperienced, learning a bit from porn and his fleshlight. it just feels so different, different than how his toy feels and how porn makes it out to be. fingering you feels better than the only time he’s had sex, all because it’s you. you’re under him, telling him how good his fingers feel, letting him do what he feels is right, like how it was always supposed to be.
he arches his fingers and sees your immediate reaction. you tell him to keep moving and he complies quickly. your moans are distracting him, and he realizes that he’s pathetically humping your thigh. he wouldn’t mind cumming again, not when it would be with you.
clearing him out of his hazy thoughts, you ask him for more, you need more. he knows what you need. like a habit from his fleshlight, his other hand reaches down, thumb beginning to circle at your clit. you let out a whimper of his name, and he rubs his thumb against you faster. you feel so good around his fingers, clenching harshly, while he ruts against you languidly.
you feel too close to cumming. that damn fleshlight, you think, gave him too much practice. you feel like jelly, mind almost numb from how good he’s doing. you moan out to tell him just how good he’s doing, and he whimpers at your praise. you can feel something wet against your thigh, and you look down to see him mindlessly humping you. you don’t want to cum like this, you need him to be inside you. 
“s-stop! please, haechan,” you whine out, tapping at his wrist to get his attention.
he immediately removes himself from you, concern painted all over his face. “are you okay?” he’s a little breathless himself, “did i do something wrong?”
“n-nothing wrong, just wanna cum on your cock instead.”
at your words, he lurches forward to kiss you, slotting himself between your legs. he kisses you hard, excited at the prospect of being inside you. if his fingers in you felt that good, then he can’t imagine how it would feel for you to be wrapped around his pulsing cock.
he tries to ignore how he can feel his dick rubbing against your core, your slick making a mess between the both of you. when his tip hits your clit, you both moan out in unison. he’s getting impatient, but at the same time, he doesn’t want this to end. he doesn’t know if this will happen again, doesn’t know if he’ll ever see you again after this.
“please, haechan. need you so bad. need to feel you in me, been waiting for so long.”
“y-yeah? made me wait for you, wanted you so bad. didn’t know you wanted me as much as i wanted you,” he says softly to you, and you realize he’s gotten more comfortable talking to you. when he’s not whimpering out to you, he’s able to talk back. you like seeing him like this, how he’d be with his friends, how he’d be with you.
“you’re acting like you made any big moves when all you did was stare at me and fuck a fake pussy,” you deadpan. he scoffs, but you can see the way his cheeks turn red again. when he twitches against you, you look up to gauge his reaction. you can tell he’s holding back, eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed.
“condom?” he asks.
you shake your head softly, “wanna feel all of you.” you hear him let out a shaky exhale, your words flooding his brain.
you softly call his name, “are you ready?”
he nods, sitting back onto his knees, looking down at the sight of the both of you. when he doesn’t immediately move, you ask, “is there something wrong, haechan? we don’t need to do this if you don’t want to-”
“no!” shocked at how loud he was, he quickly apologizes. “it’s not that i don’t want to! it’s just… i don’t want to seem so desperate…”
you reach up to place your hand on his cheek, thumbing at the moles scattered across it. he nuzzles into your touch, placing a quick kiss to your thumb. you speak up, “you don’t realize how bad i want this. like i said, there are too many times i’ve cum thinking about you.”
you move to line him up at your entrance, haechan taken aback at your forwardness. he moves on top of you, holding up his body over yours. you nod at him, telling him that you’re ready. before he does, you reassure him, “so many times i’ve thought of you on top of me like this, now i finally get to see it.”
feeling slightly embarrassed at your words, he slowly pushes in. a loud whimper escapes him, body immediately falling apart at your warmth. his arms give out, his body falling onto yours. his head falls to the crook of your neck, and you can feel his warm breath hit your already hot skin. his hands move to grip onto your sides, and you feel like he might leave faint bruises. the real thing is so much better than what he wished for last night.
you’re no better though. your hands move to his back for support, nails digging harshly into his skin. your head pushes back into the pillow, mouth spilling out whines and whimpers. you can feel how deep he is in you, how he’s twitching inside of you. if you had known he was this good, you would’ve just talked to him first. “please m-move, haechan.”
he can hear you, but it doesn’t register in his head. you clench around him to gain his attention, to which you get a dazed look in response. “need you to move, please, wanna feel you.”
when he realizes what you want, he slowly pushes himself up, hesitantly swiveling his hips against you. he lets out a small whimper, but he knows you need this just as much as he needs you. he tries to set a pace, but you can tell he’s not properly in the right headspace to make calculated movements. he’s letting his body do what it wants, and you moan out at the sight of how desperate he looks.
he continues fucking you, hips thrusting and stuttering when he feels you clench around him. you want to hear him though, you need him to talk to you. “haechan-” a whimper cuts you off, “please tell me, tell me what you’re thinking…”
he does hear you this time, and he has to suck in a large breath. his hips continue, and he tries to make out proper sentences, but he knows it won’t come out right. “feels so good- better than i could’ve ever imagined-”
“better than your fleshlight?”
“s-so much better. can feel how you’re sucking me in, can feel how wet you are.” he’s babbling, you can only catch onto some of the words he’s saying. he’s stuck between wanting to look at where you two are connected and how your face contorts in pleasure. “please let me cum in you, thought of it so much.”
“yeah? thought of filling up my pussy with your cum?” he nods at your words, punctuated with short, better timed thrusts that hit that spot inside you, your nails dragging down his back. he moans out at the feeling, and you realize he just might like a little pain.
“couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect you would f-feel around me, couldn’t help but think how i needed to show you how much i like you,” he’s moving faster now, turned on by how you’re affected by his thoughts, “always came so fast in my fleshlight at the thought.”
you’re whimpering out at his words, so sure that he’s pussy drunk that he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying. you take it all in though, relishing in how much he was really holding back when he was with you earlier.
“fucked my fleshlight just last night thinking about you,” you gasp out at this, and he feels how you clench around him, hips stuttering against you. “i didn’t even mean to, just needed you so bad.”
you pull him down to a kiss. it’s so messy, tongues meshing against each other while drool slips past both of your lips. your hands move to his hair, now wavy with how sweaty he’s gotten. you tug at it when you feel him hit that spot again. he pushes himself deep inside, hips stilling against you at the feeling, “gonna cum soon, need to cum soon, please-”
“make me cum, too. please, wanna cum with you so bad, haechan.”
he has to forcibly stop himself from cumming from hearing your voice. a shaky hand moves from your side down to your clit, thumb shakily pressing against you. you clench harshly, and he can’t stop the small thrust that presses him against you deeper. he wants to keep moving, but he knows if he thrusts a few more times, he’ll cum without a second thought. “so wet, don’ even need to do anything to help me move.”
you moan, your own hips moving up to fit more of him inside you. you don’t care how desperate you look, fully knowing haechan probably likes the look. he subconsciously moves against you, can’t fight against how good you feel. “close! ‘m so close, haechan! please, cum in me, baby!”
at the petname, haechan starts his movements again, roughly thrusting into you. he’s not thinking about it, hips slamming against yours, the only thought being cumming in your tight pussy. you feel the same, heat all over your body as you practically begin screaming for him.
“gonna give you everything. g-gonna show everyone that you're mine, how i’m yours. won’t let anyone take you away from me.” you whimper out, the knot in your stomach becoming untangled as you let your orgasm wash over you. you clench against him, walls repeatedly tightening around his cock. he can only continue so much before he cums too, warmth filling up your insides.
he’s collapsed on top of you again, hands making it to your boobs, gripping on for support. he tweaks your nipples, helping you ride out your orgasm while he fights through his. he’s so sure he’s pathetically whimpering and moaning out mixtures of your name and how good it feels, but he could care less. he’s focused on how tight you feel, how you’re milking his cock, neediness still apparent after you’ve cum.
when he slows down, he has to move away from you, your twitching pussy overstimulating him too much. what he’s more concerned about though is the aftermath. in a daze, he slowly pulls out of you. he feels the creaminess of his cum around his dick as he pulls out, watching how it slowly spills out of you. like something that looks so practiced, he moves his fingers to gather his cum, slowly pushing it inside of you as you softly moan out.
he feels the soft clench of your pussy, and his dick twitches in response. you hum, taking him out of his daze. he looks up at you, then back down at his fingers, realizing what he’s doing. “s-sorry. just… wanted to see… what would happen,” he mutters at the end, not really knowing what to say. 
he tries not to feel awkward. he really tries. it dawns on him that you both really spoke for the first time today, and now he just finished having sex with you. it’s not that he regrets it, but he’s scared, scared that he might’ve just messed up a possible relationship with you. he scratches the back of his head, too preoccupied with his thoughts. 
“aren’t you gonna lay back down with me?” you ask, a playful but tired smile on your face. 
once he realizes what you said, it all dawns down on him. it doesn’t always have to be so complicated. sometimes, all he needs is a little direction. he sees you laying down on his bed, and it just feels so right. crawling in next to you in bed, covering you both under his sheets feels normal. shy smiles being exchanged to one another as you cuddle into him, it feels like you both have done this before.
it’s okay if it doesn’t feel so timely, he thinks. he has all the time in the world for you now to properly fall in love with you.
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taglist: @vqlentinez @froggyforyoongi @snflwrhaerecs4u @jenodreamer @hanyujinshoe @haechankisser @liliansun @jadethevampress @emothugsworld
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theostrophywife · 1 year ago
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heat wave.
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pairing: azriel x reader x cassian.
request: Hi I don’t know if your requests are open but if so would u write something with reader x cassian x Azriel maybe smutty little bit ( I feel like cass would have a size kink and Az a corruption one anyway🤷🏻‍♀️😂)
author's note: size kink cassian 🤝 corruption kink azriel. i swear i haven't forgotten about the bat boys, i'm just deep in the slytherin boys brain rot rn.
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Summer swept through the city of starlight with a sweltering heat wave. The blistering sun left you feeling hot, damp, and sticky as sweat dripped down your back. The only relief to be found was in the sugary sweet cone of strawberry ice cream that Azriel had brought back for you from his trip to the market square. The shadowsinger kissed your temple before sauntering into the training pit to come face-to-face with Cassian.
The Illyrian warlord raised an amused brow. "So that's why you were late." Cassian mused, sending you a conspiratorial wink from your place underneath the shade. "You spoil her, Az."
"You're just jealous he didn't buy you a cone too, Cassie."
Cassian grinned. "You're the only sweet treat worth indulging in, and I'll have my taste of you soon enough, pretty girl." The suggestive words made your body buzz with excitement. "Right after I kick Azriel's ass for making me wait."
The shadowsinger chuckled before disappearing in a dark blur. He reemerged seconds later with twin blades in his hands and a mischievous grin. "Show me what you've got, Cassie."
You leaned back in your lounge chair, enjoying the cool relief of the sweet treat. It would've been cooler inside the house, but nothing, not even the thick muggy air could stop you from watching the two males spar.
By nature, Azriel and Cassian were competitive males.
The Illyrian warriors were opposite sides of the same coin��Cassian with his boldness and passion and heat; Azriel with his mystery and brooding and seduction. You always thought of them as fire and ice. The best of both worlds.
While the competition between them was fierce — whether in fighting or drinking or fucking, you found that Azriel and Cassian worked best in tandem.
More specifically, when they worked you in tandem.
At first, you were skeptical about the dynamic, but the more the three of you explored, the more comfortable you became with one another. It didn’t hurt that you had Cassian and Azriel completely wrapped around your finger. They would do anything for their sweet, innocent little priestess. Though the thoughts running through your mind as you watched them train were far from virtuous. If anything, they were downright sinful.
Underneath the sweltering summer sun, Cassian and Azriel moved swiftly, shedding their leathers to reveal planes of smooth, hard muscles that flexed with each movement as they darted across the red sand. Mirroring the treat in your hand, you were reduced to a sticky pool of desire as you shamelessly ogled your two favorite males.
Azriel glanced at you, a knowing smile gracing his handsome face. “Better lick it up fast, angel. You wouldn’t want to make a mess.”
Strawberry ice cream dripped all over your fingers and while you did your best to lap up the melted liquid, the heat was working against you. Besides, you were too distracted by their glistening bodies, golden brown and sweat slicked and all too tempting. You licked your lips, indulging in the lingering sweetness of strawberries and cream and wishing it was the taste of a set of deliciously sinful abs instead.
“I think she’d rather lick something else up, Az.”
You flushed, suddenly feeling hot all over despite your refuge in the shade. Cassian was a shameless flirt, but it was all in good fun. Teasing was his favorite part of this little game of yours, but in the end he always gave in. At your core, the two of you were absolute hedonists. Both too impatient to deny each other gratification.
Azriel, on the other hand, wasn’t as self indulgent. The shadowsinger could hold out for hours. Make both you and Cassian really beg for it. This time, you decided to get ahead of the game.
You shot a sly glance at Cassian while the shadowsinger had his back turned, urging him to play along. The Illyrian warlord grinned like a devil and discretely nodded before pivoting so that Azriel was facing you.
With a saccharine smile, you licked long, deliberate stripes along the cone while holding the shadowsinger’s heated gaze. “I was wondering,” you pondered as you wrapped your lips around the scoop rather suggestively. “If it feels as good for males as it does for females.”
Azriel cocked his head, intrigued. shadows twisted through his dark wings. “If what feels as good, angel?”
“Pleasuring someone with your mouth.” The shadowsinger stilled. Behind him, Cassian’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve never done it before, but I’d like to try. Maybe you could teach me, Az.”
Azriel’s jaw clenched as he inhaled deeply. Hook, line, and sinker. “Then you and Cas could both confirm my theory.”
Moments later, you found yourself crammed into the shower between Cassian and Azriel. The Illyrian warlord spread out on the built in marble bench, water dripping down his shoulders as his unbound hair formed a dark curtain around his face. He looked like the god of war, all lean muscle and rugged beauty.
Warm, honey eyes tracked your movements as you discarded your dress and stepped underneath the steady stream of water. The shadowsinger's gaze hungrily raked over your naked body as he tucked his wings in close.
"Get on your knees for me, angel."
You followed azriel’s instructions and knelt in front of Cassian. When you looked up, you found nothing but dark pools of lust staring back at you. Cassian suppressed a shiver at the sight of you on your knees, watching and waiting. Hanging onto every word.
Azriel brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “Open your mouth, baby. Go slow at first. Treat it like the ice cream. Lick from the shaft to the tip.”
You did as you were told and gave tentative little licks along the underside of his cock. Cassian was warm velvet in your mouth. “That’s it, angel. You’re doing so well.”
Cassian moaned in agreement while the shadowsinger gathered your hair into a ponytail. “Now, hold your breath and take him as far as you can.”
You obliged, slightly gagging as Cassian settled in the back of your throat. Azriel knelt behind you, pressing encouraging kisses behind your ear. Sharp teeth grazed the column of your throat and you moaned, which elicited a hum of pleasure from the male above you. Peering through your lashes, you waited for Azriel’s instructions. he smirked, knowing he was in full control.
“Bob your head up and down. Make it messy, my love.” Cassian groaned as you picked up the pace, his dark lashes kissing the tops of his cheekbones while the back of his head rested against the marble tile. He gripped the edges of the bench so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.
Azriel chuckled darkly. He caressed your cheek, stroking over where Cassian was slotted in your mouth. “Our perfect little whore. So good at following instructions when you want to, yeah?”
You groaned as Azriel pushed your head down. Cassian hit the back of your throat, making you gag on his cock. His head fell back, mouth opening to release a filthy moan.
“That’s my good girl. Do you see what you’re doing to poor little Cassie? You’re unraveling him, angel. I bet he’s close to coming. Aren’t you, Cas?”
Cassian shuddered, his wings flexing behind him in confirmation. “Gods, don’t stop. Your mouth is perfect. Feels too fucking good.”
"Use both hands, love." Azriel instructed as he helped you get a firm grip on cassian. Water trickled through his perfectly sculpted abs, clenching as his release came closer and closer.
"Fuck, Y/N," Cassian growled. His hazel eyes burned as he watched you take all of him. Rough, calloused fingers caressed the hollow of your throat. He could feel you gag around him as he fucked your pretty mouth. You were so tiny and delicate, but absolutely fucking filthy too. Cassian was obsessed. "You're so pretty when you suck my cock."
You hummed in response, making the winged male buck against you. He gripped the back of your head and thrusted in and out as you moaned your approval. "Oh gods, Y/N. I'm so fucking close."
The shadowsinger grazed your earlobe with his teeth. "Swallow, baby. Every single drop. Do you understand?"
You nodded as Cassian shot hot ribbons into your mouth. The Illyrian warrior shuddered as you milked him dry, savoring the salt and musk of him hitting the back of your throat. He pulled you under the running water, droplets catching in your lashes as Cassian pressed you against the cold tile.
A mischevious grin curled against his lips as he caged you in. You startled at the way he completely enveloped you, the cover of his wings blocking out the light as his lips met yours. Cassian loved towering over you like this, his large hands roaming your body as he gripped your hips and lifted you up with ease.
You groaned as he wrapped your legs around his waist, his gruff movements making you feel as light as a rag doll as he kissed you fervently. He tasted like cinnamon and whiskey, an intoxicating combination that you chased with your tongue as you pulled at his hair. Cassian returned the favor by biting down on your bottom lip, chuckling darkly as your stiffened peaks pressed against the hard planes of his chest.
"Feisty little doll, aren't you?" He growled against your ear. Cassian hiked you up, letting you feel the effect of the kiss poking against your inner thigh. "I could take you right here and then without even breaking a sweat, sweetheart. You're such a tiny little thing, but you take cock so well, don't you?"
You responded with a whimper. Cassian bit into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark. "Cas, please."
The desperation in your voice was enough to make Cassian's cock twitch against your leg. You knew that with the right combination of pleading eyes and trembling lips, Cassian would be putty in your hands. You rolled your hips against him and he moaned against your neck. When his gaze met yours, his pupils were nothing but dark depths of desire.
"I need you, Cassian."
"Cauldron fucking boil me," he muttered. "Have me then, pretty girl."
You smirked, satisfied with your little victory until Azriel hovered behind Cassian's wings.
"Now who's spoiling her, Cas?" He nudged his brother aside and pulled you back down. Cassian smiled sheepishly, knowing full well that he would've fully given into you if the shadowsinger hadn't stepped in.
Azriel's smile was a cruel slant. "You're a devious little minx," he said. "You may be the perfect picture of innocence, but you're nothing but a filthy little slut, aren't you? It's too bad that I know all your tricks, angel. Seeing as how I’m the one who taught them to you."
You grinned. "It just means you're a great teacher, Az." The shadowsinger raised a brow as you snaked your arms around his neck. "You should be proud."
Azriel chuckled darkly before peeling you off of him. A dark curl clung to his cheek, covering the mischievous glint in his golden eyes. "I'll be proud after I make you squirt in my mouth two or three times." He nodded back to the marble bench. "Now be a good girl and lie down. You’re about to reap the consequences of your actions. I don't take kindly to being teased, my love."
The shadowsinger briefly glanced at Cassian. "You too, Cas. Hold her hips down. I don't want her squirming away before she's learned her lesson."
Cassian winked before settling onto the marble bench. Azriel instructed you to lie back against his brother's chest before kneeling between your legs. You swallowed thickly as the shadowsinger spread your thighs apart.
Azriel smirked as he secured your ankles around his neck. "You're dripping, angel." His seductive laugh skittered up your spine. "You like being a tease, don't you? Do you enjoy bringing Cassian and I to our knees?"
"Only because I love the view," you said with a smile. "But not as much as I love the both of you."
Cassian chuckled and wrapped you up in his arms. "We love you too, sweetheart, but Az is going to make you pay like he promised. Can't save you from him now, baby doll."
The shadowsinger kissed the inside of your knee and smiled. His warm breath fanned against your overheated core as he licked a teasing strip along your folds. You instantly arched into him, your body begging for more. Azriel signaled to Cassian, who shook his head and held your hips down.
"Don't let her up, Cassian." Azriel said. "Not until she begs."
Cassian only nodded and kept you firmly pressed against him as Azriel went to work. His tongue explored every inch of you, licking and sucking as though you were the strawberry cone from earlier. You nearly cried when he teased two fingers in, his mouth working in tandem to push you over the edge. The sensations were overwhelming and the combination of his mouth and fingers was enough to make you want to weep.
As always, Azriel set a punishing pace. It was like he was gauging how far he could push you until you completely lost your grip on reality. Your first orgasm felt like an explosion. Stars flooded your vision as though you were witnessing the demise of a dying star. A supernova.
The second time Azriel made you cum, you thought you were going to pass out from the intensity of the pleasure. When the third rolled around, you couldn't even remember your name.
"Az please," you cried. "I can't take any more."
Azriel glanced up at you, a damp curl clinging to his cheek as his mouth glistened with your arousal. He looked like a lion after devouring a fresh kill. Dark, lethal, and utterly dangerous. And you fucking loved him for it.
"You've got one more in you, darling. Doesn't she, Cas?"
Cassian smirked, his rough hands biting into your hips. "Maybe she needs a little motivation."
"Oh?" The smirk on Azriel's lips spelled nothing but trouble. He licked his lips, gathering the juices with his tongue. "Come and taste her on me, then. That should inspire her to ride another one out."
You swallowed thickly as Cassian kissed Azriel hungrily. The shadowsinger's scarred fingers snaked through Cassian's hair possessively, claiming him with his tongue and his touch. You groaned, whining until Azriel shot you a glare. He wasn't going to let you join in on the fun.
Cassian pulled away, looking dazed and disoriented. "You taste like heaven, doll." He kissed your cheek and chuckled as you tried to turn and catch his lips instead. "Be good and give Azriel one more, sweetheart. Then you can get all the kisses you want."
You pouted, but did as you were told. Azriel disappeared between your thighs again. Despite how overstimulated you felt, release found you in record time. Before you knew it, you were writhing against Azriel's mouth and coming for the fourth time.
It felt like both heaven and hell. Heaven because the pleasure was unlike any other. Hell because receiving that many orgasms back to back had you utterly spent even though you would've begged for more if you had the energy to speak.
"What did you learn today, angel?"
"Don't interrupt training." Azriel nodded in satisfaction. "And—"
The shadowsinger raised a brow. "There's an and?"
"And you eat pussy like a god," you stated matter-of-factly.
That earned you an amused smile. "Hear that, Cas? I think I might get a plaque made to put in my office."
Cassian only rolled his eyes. "She's only saying that because I haven't worked my magic yet." He brushed through your hair and kissed your temple. "I'll prove myself soon enough, but for now, you should get some rest pretty girl."
You nodded in agreement. "Cuddles?"
"Cuddles," Cassian confirmed.
After you cleaned up and dried off, you settled into bed. Sometimes the three of you slept in Cassian's room. Other times at Azriel's. But since your bed was the biggest, the three of you tended to prefer sleeping in your room most nights.
Your eyes felt heavy as Azriel snuggled behind you, smiling gently as Cassian tucked you underneath the blankets. You threw your leg over his, giggling as he complained about your cold feet.
"Shut up, you love it."
With the moonlight glistening against Cassian and Azriel's shirtless torsos as they snuggled up on either side, you couldn't help but feel like the luckiest female in the realm. The shadowsinger leaned over to kiss both of you good night.
“The next time you two conspire against me like that, I won’t be as nice. Do you understand?”
You and Cassian nodded, but the moment that Azriel looked away, you smirked at each other.
There would definitely be a next time.
You two never learned.
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thought--bubble · 4 months ago
Text
When he Breaks
Modern Aemond X (ex GF) reader
Word Count: 3,098
Note* This was written for @targaryen-dynasty's 3K celebration! (Congratulations my love you deserve it all!)
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Modern Aemond Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Dividers and banners by @arcielee
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Warnings:Toxic relationship dynamics, alcohol use, swearing, smut (fingering female receiving)
Four months should have been enough time. Should have been enough time to completely move on from the two-year whirlwind that was your relationship with the ever-elusive Aemond Targaryen.
Your relationship with Aemond Targaryen was difficult to put it mildly. You had tried. Really tried to make it work, but like with most things, there comes a time when things have simply run their course.
Aemond could be sweet, yet mostly, he was cold, closed off, and angry.
Aemond does not simply feel angry. He embodies anger. With each step he takes, he carries it around with him, like a festering wound he refuses to treat lest he forget the injustices he has suffered.
The smallest things could set him off, a harmless joke from his brother or his nephew simply breathing the same air.
the issue between him and his nephew, Luke, was simple enough to understand. You always thought it so tragic how an unfortunate childhood accident could tear a family apart at the seams. The accident had left Aemond blind in one eye, and as far as Aemond saw it, no one had ever paid for it. No one ever suffered for it, no one but Aemond that is.
His hate and anger ruled his life. It seeped into every facet of his being. Even being his girlfriend was not a shield from his rage.
This anger would come to a head when he ruined his father's birthday celebration, potentially the last one his sick ailing father would have. When he stood up and gave a toast insulting his nephews and calling his sister a whore, albeit using a roundabout way to say it. The ensuing physical altercation between Aemond and his other nephew, Jace, had been the final straw for you. No more would you live with this angry man. This powder keg that is just waiting to explode, this dragon grinding his jaw and salivating at any chance to tear apart those he saw as his enemies.
So, when you showed up for Helaena's birthday, a house party, Aegon is throwing. You were concerned about seeing Aemond for the first time since your split. You were over him. At least that's what you told yourself, and you believed it.
Until you walked in to see him, sitting on the sofa, cigarette in hand, smile on his face, and an arm around Floris' shoulders.
Floris Baratheon, a sweet little thing. Not a cruel bone in her body. The absolute visceral response you had to the scene was unexpected, yet you made sure to control your facial expression. You could not let him see you vulnerable or weak.
Yes, you were done with Aemond. You no longer wanted Aemond, but you did not approve of him to move on. To have someone else.
As you watch him sitting with Floris from across the crowded room of Aegon's flat, you feel your anger bubbling up. Four months, and he was already flirting about with a simpleton like Floris Baratheon? Had you meant so little to him?
You jump slightly as Helaena sneaks up next to you as you lean against the breakfast bar, drink in hand.
Helaena has always had this uncanny ability to seemingly pop up out of nowhere, with words of wisdom or nonsense. It truly was luck of the draw.
"There is no need to fight for what you don't want, just because someone else may want it." She muses thoughtfully.
"I'm not fighting for anything," you snap back. "She wants to deal with all of that. She's welcome to him."
"Hmmm," the light hum of Helaena's voice, usually a soothing sound, grates on your nerves.
"The two of you are more alike than either of you realize."
Your head instantly whips to the side, your eyes narrowed. "We are nothing alike," you hiss through gritted teeth.
Helaena simply hums in response before grabbing herself a wine cooler off the counter. "I hope you find some way to enjoy the evening."
"Hey," you call out behind her as she starts to walk away.
She turns and looks at you, with nothing but softness in her lavender eyes.
"Happy Birthday" You give her a weak smile.
"It will be entertaining, at least," she says dreamily before gliding off to welcome more of her friends who had just arrived.
With Helaena's final words lingering in your head, you knock back the drink in your hand and place the empty cup back on the counter.
Revenge is Aemond's favorite pastime. An obsession you have berated him for time and time again, yet here you stand, watching his faux gentleness that he seems intent on displaying for the fawn of a girl that sits beside him and all you can feel is the hunger inside you, willing you to take a bite out of him, sating that need for revenge of your own.
Aemond looks over at you briefly before his eye flickers back to Floris, carrying on their quiet conversation, which, from what you could gather, looked more like Floris speaking incessantly and Aemond, with his false patience, listening intently, or at least pretending to.
"What are ya drinking ya tart!" Aegon slurs as he leans over the counter, mixing himself another drink.
"Had a whiskey, looking for something else, though." You let your words trail off as your eyes search the countertop.
When you finally find the bowl of cherries, you turn to Aegon and bat your lashes. "Make me a tart cherry? You were always the best at making them. " You offer him a sweet smile as you lean over the counter. The short black dress you have on hardly concealing your rear.
"Ahh! A tart for a tart!" Aegon chuckles as he starts to make the drink, spilling liqueur all about the countertop.
You roll your eyes, careful not to let Aegon see. He's an idiot, but tonight, you will make him a useful idiot because leading Aegon is as simple as being kind for a fleeting moment.
"I may just be a tart tonight," you chuckle suggestively, taking the drink from Aegon's hand, slowly sipping at the contents. You can question a lot of things about Aegon. Pretty much everything about Aegon. But not his ability to make a strong drink.
"Let's sit. Catch up. We haven't spoken in quite some time. " You take Aegon by the hand and drag him to the sofa situated directly across from Aemond and Floris before Aegon has any chance to object.
"Right! OK then!" Aegon plops down on the sofa, his drink sloshing over the sides of his cup.
You slowly lower yourself down beside him, careful to make sure your dress rides up your thigh just enough so that the thickest part of your thigh is exposed to both Aegon and Aemond's lecherous glares.
"So Aegon," you place your hand on his thigh, gently running your hand up and down in a soothing motion. "How have you been?"
Aegon doesn't even respond before you feel the burn of Aemond's steely eye burrowing into the side of your face.
Aegon looks down at your hand on his thigh briefly before a lazy smile spreads across his face. "Good, grand actually," he answers as he scoots closer to you.
This is going to be easier than you thought. You could always count on Aegon and his never-quenched thirst for physical affection.
When Aegon lowers his voice to a seductive growl as he explains what he has been up to since the last time you spoke, you tune him out.
Your main concern was your body movements, now that you know Aemond's eye is on you. He is a complex man yet, still just a man.
You cross one leg over the other, your short dress riding up just a tad bit higher. You work hard to conceal the grin that fights to spread across your face as you can hear Aemond across from you uncomfortably shifting in his seat.
"Hmmm," you feign interest as Aegon goes on about passing all of his classes at uni this semester. Something he is most proud of given the unlikelihood of such a feat.
You pluck one of the cherries floating around your drink and slide it slowly past your lips and suck on it. You have yet to spare Aemond a single glance but are fully aware that his eye hasn't left you since you sat down.
"You ummm really like that cherry?" Aegon asks with a mixture of amusement and lust.
"I do," you answer, your voice soft and slow.
"Are you gonna ummm... eat it? Or just uhhh suck on it?" Aegon shifts even closer with this question, leaving almost no space between you.
"It's so sweet.... and a bit tart.... I want to enjoy it fully before I toss it away" You pull the cherry part way from your mouth, circling the small fruit with your tongue before biting through it with your front teeth, the juices dripping down your lip to your chin.
"Fuuuuck," Aegon whispers, his eyes trained on the trail of cherry juice as it reaches your chin.
"Whoops" You collect the juice around your mouth with your fingertip before popping it in your mouth and sucking the juice off.
You can hear Floris babbling about something and find joy in the fact that Aemond has seemed to have stopped responding to her.
Aegon brings his hand to your thigh, squeezing at the flesh there.
"Wanna go outside? Smoke a fag? Just... you and me?"
You go to respond but are cut off by Aemond, who is suddenly choking on his drink loudly.
You finally look over at him, his purple eye a ring of fire. There's all that rage, all that anger, what had driven you away seemed so pretty now.
"Are you alright?" You ask with a tone that's smooth like butter.
Aegon laughs loudly. "Seems my brother has chosen a drink that is too strong for him. This is something he does often. Here Aemond, give me your drink. " Aegon holds his hand out to Aemond. "I will drink it; I am typically able to handle the things thar are too tough for you." Aegon's eyes flit to you on his last word, and you smile at him.
"Is that so? That's a good thing to know." You stand up slowly, placing your nearly empty cup down on the coffee table. "I'm going to run to the rest room and then I'll meet you outside for that fag."
"Smashing" Aegon rises from his seat as you turn your back and walk off toward the restroom, each step calculated to make sure you sway your hips just the way you know Aemond likes it.
When you're done in the bathroom, you open the door to make your way outside, but instead of the empty hallway you expected, Aemond is leaning in the doorway. His shoulder pressed against the wood frame, his blonde bangs covering his bad eye.
"Having a laugh, are ya?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.
"A laugh?" You feign complete ignorance. "Sure, I've had a laugh or two. It's been a lovely evening. " You flash him a sweet smile and then move to the side, attempting to walk around him.
"A lovely evening?" He places his hand on your chest, pushing you backward into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
"A lovely evening of flirting with my whore of a brother?" His voice is calm, not at all in sync with the tension of his shoulders as he towers over you.
"Well, that is an unkind thing to say. I was merely catching up with a friend." You push his arm from your chest, a movement with which he does not fight. "Who is currently waiting on me outside, so if you don't mind ..."
You again move to walk around him.
"I do, in fact, mind. Do you think this is a game? To tease me all night while using my idiot brother as a pawn?" He snarls, bringing his hands to your waist, his digits clenching around you.
"I have not teased you," you smirk at him. "If you would like me to tease you.  ..." You stand on your tippy toes, bringing your lips to the shell of his ear. "I can certainly do that."
You watch with fascination as his skin prickles and his grip around your waist tightens. "Do not"
You smile knowing you have him now, that cold stoic man that is Aemond Targaryen is putty in your hands, and it hardly took any work at all.
You bring your lips to the softness of his neck, just close enough so that your warm breath skates across his skin. "Do not? Oh, Aemond, you sound so serious when you say it like that."
His breath hitches as you chuckle, your hands sliding under his shirt, your fingertips dancing across his toned stomach.
"You're playing a dangerous game, love," he hisses, his grip on your sides growing tighter, creating a pleasant ache.
"My favorite type of game." You run the tip of your nose up the side of his neck while your hands find purchase on the buttons of his expensive button-down shirt.
"Did I make you angry, my darling?" You ask, a teasing lilt to your tone as you slowly pop out button after button.
A sound comes from his chest, a sound somewhere between a growl and a chuckle, a sound that is completely Aemond. "And why should I be angry? Hmm?"
As you pop out the final button on his shirt, his hand slides into the base of your hair, gripping tight and pulling your head back. "A whore will do as a whore will do, there is nothing to be gained by being angry about it."
"A whore? Is that how you think of me now? A few simple months is all it took for your blood to turn to bile in my presence as well?"
You don't fight his grip. In fact, you crave it. He pushes you up against the sink vanity, lifting you up by your thigh, his other hand never leaving your hair.
"You left me, you betrayed me, like they all do," he nips along your jawline while grinding his hardness up against your heat.
"I left. I did not betray" you argue between pants. The friction of Aemond's movements against your heat, building a pressure in your lower stomach, a fire that gets slightly bigger with each rut.
"Same thing," he reaches under your dress, running his fingers over the damp cloth that is the only thing keeping his fingers from your heated flesh. "You don't want me, but you melt in my hands, like a dirty little whore."
A smile crosses your face, and you close your eyes as he slips his fingers underneath the flimsy cloth of your thong. Circling your nub with quick aggressive strokes.
"So quiet now? Where is that girl I know with the big mouth, hmm?"
You moan loudly as he slips two fingers into your slick entrance.
"Ahhh, there she is," Aemond begins rutting his fingers into you at a quick and brutal pace.
You try to lower your head back down. The need to feel his lips on yours feels like a burning ache.
"Oh no. You don't get to kiss me. No." He brings his thumb to your engorged clit while his fingers continue their relentless pace.
"Whores don't kiss me. They cum on my fingers, when I say so." He growls as he nibbles down the side of your throat, his hand not slowing its pace.
The heat that has been building in your stomach becomes all consuming, your legs involuntarily stretch further apart, and your mouth hangs open wide. "Aemond, Aemond," you pant, each stroke of his fingers bringing you closer and closer to that blissful edge.
"Begging for me again, what a beautiful sound. Cum for me little slut. Cum for me now." He nips on your ear and pushes his thumb down on your clit while continuing to rub his small, rough circles.
Your eyes remain on the bathroom ceiling as the mix of pleasure, heat, and even a little pain continue to rise rapidly with each of Aemond's movements.
"That's fuck... that's it" you dig your fingernails into the skin of his back as you are hit with an overwhelming wave of pleasure, numbness temporarily traveling from your toes and up your legs as if the only feeling your body was capable of registering at this time was this feeling.
He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean, his one eye watching you intently as you finish riding out your high.
Without a word, he begins to button his shirt back up.
"So that's it then?" You ask frustrated at his cool and cold demeanor.
"Well, Floris is back on the sofa waiting for me and Aegon is waiting on you for that fag which...." he looks you up and down, a smug smile creeping onto his face " I assume you really do need now...."
The feeling of pleasure that had been swirling around your body is instantly replaced with a red-hot rage. "So, you return to Floris, and I return to Aegon?" You hop down from the vanity hastily fixing your clothes and patting down your hair.
You push past him, wrenching the bathroom door open to see Aegon in the hallway.
"Oh, sod off!" Aegon huffs in annoyance. "I knew you were using me to make him jealous. I just hoped he wouldn't go all Aemond on you before I actually got something out of it." He starts to stumble back down the hallway.
"Aegon, wait!" You begin to chase after him when Aemond grips your shoulder.
"Looks like your plans have fallen through."
You quickly shift out of his grasp. "Easy enough to make new plans."
"Go outside. Have your fag and I'll be there in 10 minutes" he says calmly walking past you back toward the living room.
"What?" You call out to his retreating form.
"I have to at least let Floris know I'm leaving. It's the polite thing to do after all."
"Leaving?" You ask incredulously.
Aemond sighs, turning back to look at you. "Yes, leaving. There is a heavier punishment you must suffer for your betrayal.... and I can't very well inflict that upon you in a fucking bathroom."
He turns away from you again, walking quickly. "Ten minutes, love. Give me ten minutes"
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shamrockqueen · 6 months ago
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Omega retreat : chapter 5
Pairing: Alpha Bucky × Omega Reader
Warnings: R18, Smut, Not what it seems, ABO dynamics, knotting, biting, bruising, sexual themes, adult themes
Word count: 2029
Bucky Masterlist
Summary: As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.
You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?
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He circled his fingers around the necks of the bottles, letting his nails cut through the wet labels as he pulled the beers from the cooler. The ice crunched together as it filled in the gap left behind before Bucky shut the lid and walked away.
His associates sat outside, and as he offered one of the beers as he approached one of the other men.
The third gentleman sat, unmoved, in a luxurious deck chair. His legs were spread, creasing his white trousers as his ankle sat on top of his other knee. He scratched at the chin of his dark goatee, looking back at his colleague through tinted glasses.
“I take it that the shop talk is over.”
Bucky sat back on his chair, rubbing his temple as Tony spoke.
“Not that it isn’t interesting.” Steve laughed back as he smoothed down a stray tuft of his sandy blonde before reaching back down to twist the top off his beer. A bit of foam followed after to dribble out over his thick fingers, and he switched the bottle to his other hand as he tried to shake the mess from his skin.
"Geez, Buck. Did'ya shake it?”
Bucky shrugged, laughing a little as he popped the cap off his own bottle and sat back before Steve shot back with another joke.
“Is this your way of getting back at me?”
Bucky shot back with equal sarcasm. “Yeah, I shook your beer because you were prowling through my Omega’s profile.”
“Can’t blame me for being a little jealous.”
“Oh? Back on the dating game, boys?" Tony gave them both a smirk as he asked.
“I think it really came through this time.” Bucky said before taking a sip of his beer.
“She has you smitten this soon?” Steve smiled back.
“She’s something else; I could tell right away.”
“I feel like I’ve heard this song before.” Tony teased, turning his eyes away from the other men.
“I know that this time is different. It’s that itch in my belly that had never been there before. She just really brings my Alpha out just when I hear her voice.” Bucky brought the spout back to his lips and knocked back another swig of beer before continuing to speak.
“I think that website finally came through for me.”
“You lucky bastard, but I can’t say they don’t owe you one at this point.” Steve shined back as he sipped up the last of his beer.
“I hope they know better than to let this end like any of the last ones.” Tony shot back, still trying to crack the sugar coating on this story to find a more realistic center. “I still say it’s no better than burning your money, especially after how long you’d had the subscription.”
“Says a man who’s already married.” Steve tried to grin away a small sneer.
Tony was a Beta—a married Beta with a baby on the way. He would never know the struggle of finding one’s perfect match when there were so few to look through.
“Besides, the girls get it for free, so somebody has to pay.” Steve didn’t even look up from his empty bottle when he said it more to himself than the other men. The website didn’t advertise as such to the desirable Omega’s, but the Alpha’s were given a much more formal subscription through a sister site. The Alphas were always willing to pay, of course.
“I just think that at this point, it would have to feel like a scam after all you’ve been through.” Tony spoke back.
"Well, there will be hell to pay if it is.” Bucky didn’t look back up as he answered, choosing instead to watch the swirl of his beer as he tipped the bottle back and forth.
Tony finally cleared his throat, annoyed that his pushback didn’t yield any results. “You know, I’ve heard some stuff about that place.”
Bucky hesitated before giving a stern “So have I.”
Tony took a deep breath, not wanting to insult his long-time friend any further. “I’m not saying you're that kind of person. You’re a good man, Buck. I just wish you didn’t associate with something that didn’t match your character.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t do those kinds of things. I want to do right by any girl of mine.”
Bucky never led any of his friends to believe he was anything less than an upstanding man, so Tony believed him as he spoke.
Steve cleared his throat, trying to disperse the cloud of awkward tension in the air. Especially what had circled his own head.
“Love at first sight then; I hope she lives up to this hype.”
“I’d say so.”
“Caught the fish I couldn’t.” Steve smirked back before leaning forward to tap his empty bottle against the one still in Bucky’s hands.
Bucky closed the gap with a little ‘clink’ to finish the small toast to his success.
“And don’t think you can try and steal her.”
Fed up with the sparks of jealousy, Tony hit his knees with the palms of his hand before pushing up from his seat.
“Well, I think it’s my turn to get a drink.”
With his colleague’s departure, Bucky felt the subtle buzz in his pocket before he could pull Steve into another conversation.
Bucky lifted his finger to excuse himself before walking back, passing Tony and his now-full glass of scotch.
He flipped his phone open, finding a picture on the small screen. He has to bring the phone closer to his face before yours becomes recognizable in the image of a changing room.
It was from an angle to show a flowy floral dress that ended along your upper thigh. It dipped along your bustline and tightened around the hourglass dip at your waist.
He smiled, leaning on the wall as another notification lit across the top of the little screen to signal you’d sent another photo.
You had gone through with your little shopping excursion, lifting your once dampened spirits. It was actually nice to like how you look in new clothes, and you made sure you weren’t the only one.
There was no doubt that you were perfectly Omega. From your overall shy demeanor to the soft shape of your gorgeous body as it lights up across the screen.
Bucky had had his fill of pushy women. He wasn’t asking for a servant, just an equal partner, but their demanding nature too easily turned him off.
He looked back at the glass door that stood between him and his friends out on the deck. It was just a small gesture to secure his privacy as he clicked a few buttons to bring himself to the new picture.
It was a romper, a low v-cut sitting over your breasts as the ends of the shorts rose high along your thighs.
He lingered on each dip and curve for as long as it would take to paint the picture to his memory before thumbing back with, ‘Doing some shopping, doll?’
He didn’t have the luxury of watching your response load with the dance of bouncing dots, but was almost immediately met with, “Yeah, I didn’t have vacation-friendly clothes. Whatcha think?’
‘The second one is a bit risqué, isn’t it?’
You flinched at the last message, and you hoped that it didn’t mean you offended him.
‘Oh geez. It is a bit, but I already bought it.’
‘I never said you didn’t look good; it’s certainly more than I’ve gotten to see so far ;)'
You laugh a little, feeling bashful upon seeing the little winking face as you hold your phone close. You wanted to type back, but his messages popped up before you could.
‘Are there any more pictures I can look forward to?’
‘I sent a few; you should have gotten them by now.’ You answered back just as quickly.
His simple flip phone wasn’t that great at receiving pictures, but just in time, two more made it through.
It’s you in a long, flowy dress of blue, showing less skin besides a leg peeking out from a slit at the side. It was cute; it looked form-fitting and soft.
The other was a simple plaid button-up top and a pair of denim shorts. You had your body turned to show the curve of your ass as a little peeked out the bottom of the denim. It made him glad that he’d be having you all to himself over that weekend.
His tongue spread over his lips as he pictured the thin strip of denim that would be covering your hidden pink center and how the seams would pop as he tried to pull it out of his way to find it.
‘Please tell me you bought that last one.’
‘Just the shorts, the shirt seemed like it would be too hot.’ You tapped away with a reddening smile before lifting your gaze back up to the other stores ahead. A familiar cursive name lit up in pink crossed your vision before you stepped towards it.
He must have been lost in thought as he studied the last few outfits, giving you time to let your own wander around the rest of the shops.
It had been a long time since you had this much fun, and even as you crossed through the threshold of the store and looked around at its overpriced goods, you wanted nothing more than to treat yourself like the beautiful omega he seemed to see.
There were some stringy pieces in the back, all lace and a little fabric. Not quite your style, so you kept browsing. There were a few baby doll dresses, some with fluff, and one that was nearly see-through. You eyed the black mesh bashfully, only now feeling just a bit in over your head.
You pinched the fabric, a little surprised at how silky the mesh was between your fingers.
You pulled it off the rack, sizing it up against your body, before shifting your eyes towards the changing room and thinking about what a good picture this beauty would make.
By the time your clothes were off and the dress was on, you knew it would be an immediate purchase before you even snapped the photo. You almost wanted it to be a surprise, but you craved this new kind of attention. To push past the edge of flattery into something deeper, maybe even darker.
Bucky stared at the small screen as he tried to navigate to any new photos, only to have it buzz between his fingers. It was you in a thin black nightie, showing him just a glimpse of everything he’d been pining to see. The subtle dips of your body and bare skin, the apex of your smooth thighs still hidden under the black hem, and the dark circles of your soft nipples nearly totally visible through the sheer fabric over your breasts.
He felt the air being punched out of his lungs like a blow to his stomach. It was one of the few times he would curse himself for not having a more modern phone because he couldn’t zoom in further.
‘Do you have any idea what you're doing to me right now?’
You replied with a cheeky ‘just a little’ before another photo flooded over his dinosaur of a phone.
This time you were facing away from the mirror, showing the contours of the back of your body that were now visible. You’d tried to bend your leg so it popped your bottom out in a desirable pose. It did just as you’d wanted, giving him a view of the cleft of your round ass as if the negligee were melting away to finally reveal your bare body.
He had to close the phone just to better calm himself so his building erection could leave as quickly as you’d given it to him. He’d never hear the end of it if he walked out, as it began to strain against his jeans.
There was no question now, even before his last message came through. You would absolutely be buying this one.
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Chapter 6
Tags : @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault @nicestgirlonline @jbuckybarnesfan @val-writesstuff @birdenthusiastez @ozwriterchick
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notjustjavierpena · 7 months ago
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Sucía: Part II - Hungover
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Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: Finally, a follow-up to Birthday Girl. So sorry about the wait. ALSO BE NICE TO ME SINCE I HAVEN’T WRITTEN ASSPLAY BEFORE! Can be read alone
Summary: You meet Javier again but this time, you are  hungover in a corner store and with sunglasses on inside.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, mention of f masturbation, javi is a flirt, reader is hungover and later tipsy, use of papi/daddy, alcohol consumption, classic booty call, flirty banter, dirty talk, kissing, dom/sub dynamics, blowjob, verbal humiliation, face-fucking, deepthroating, clit stim, doggy style but add a police grip, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, spanking, assplay, anal fingering, creampie, overstim, pussy eating, come eating, bit of subdrop, aftercare cuddles
Word count: 4.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48859147/chapters/123256180
Hungover
The hangover is worse than you thought it would be. It makes noises seem overwhelming to your ears, which had been fine listening to booming club music the night before, and fluorescent lights prickle at your eyes, so much so that you decide to wear sunglasses as you walk down to the corner store near your apartment building. You have the shakes, the fatigue, the savory cravings. 
But you also have the dull ache of getting harshly fucked between your legs. The memory is hardly foggy because you can’t stop thinking about it, the underlying roughness beneath Javier’s surface, and how you have spent the day in bed with your hand in your panties to try to reach even a shred of the same excitement you felt when he had you.
You reach the cooler with Arizona iced teas and rest the bottle that you pick out against your forehead. It soothes slightly. With your other hand, you find a bag of chips that you normally find disgusting. 
As you contemplate making a dip, you suddenly get the feeling of someone watching you. At first, you try to shake it but when it gets more intense, you whirl around and nearly bump into—
“Javier?” With the chips bag between your fingers, you use your index finger and thumb to peel your sunglasses off. 
“Oh, so it is you,” he gives you a once over with his eyes, raising a brow at, but not commenting on, your appearance; messy bun and gray sweatpants with an unflattering word in rhinestones across your ass. Instead, he smirks, “Bad hangover?”
“You could say that,” you say, a little embarrassed. After all, who you are in the nightlife is hardly who you are in real life, “I think I overdid it a little last night.”
“But you remember?” Javier takes a step towards you, seems unaware of doing it, and your pulse immediately spikes. 
“How could I forget?” You are not in the right attire for flirting but Javier looks pleased and relieved, even slightly amused, eyes traveling down your body as if he is trying to imagine what the baggy pants are hiding. 
“I wouldn’t want you to,” he states and suddenly starts walking towards the counter. You find yourself following him without any question. 
You swallow, trying to change the subject in case it gets too heated for public ears to hear, “What are you getting?” 
“I was just getting some cigarettes but now I’m getting a number too, aren’t I?” He gestures to the countertop and you place your chips and iced tea on it. 
“Perhaps.”
“And a pack of cigarettes,” Javier says to the cashier, a young teenager with curious eyes as he observes your interaction. Javier points to the brand that he likes and it’s added to the mix. 
“I—“ you protest. 
Javier holds up a hand and pays without a word. He rests a hand on the counter as he speaks to the teenager who is in awe by now, “You have a pen, kid?”
The cashier quickly retrieves one from underneath the counter. He hands it to Javier who turns to you, reaches out for your wrist, which burns with excitement as he touches it, and scribbles his number on your arm, “There.”
“How do you know I’ll call you?” You challenge as you pick up your things. 
“I’m pretty confident,” he shrugs, “I make an impression, I’ve been told.”
His smugness is hot and nauseating at the same time. You hit him with a line that you know only he knows the true meaning of, shoving the pack of cigarettes into your pockets too without giving him time to protest.
“Thanks, Papi,” you start heading for the door. 
Javier chuckles in disbelief. 
“Wow,” the cashier says as you leave, and despite having your back turned, you can picture him gaping at Javier who is watching you leave, “Dude, teach me your ways.”
You call Javier a week later. It’s in the middle of the night, you’ve been out once again, Hannah’s orders, and you don’t want to go home to your empty apartment. You aren’t drunk except for that your voice is a little louder than usual as you speak into the pay phone outside the club. 
“Are you home?” You ask.
“Are you drunk?” He interrogates.
“Just tipsy,” you reassure, confident, “Give me your address. I’ll come by… unless you’re busy.”
“I’m not.”
“Then give me your address,” you push. If you don’t get him out of your system soon, you think you might lose your mind, and what better way than to fuck it out? You sigh animatedly, try to make it sound so he can practically hear the way you are batting your lashes, “Please, Daddy.” 
“Jesus, you’re filthy,” he breathes on the other end of the line, and then gives in, “Fine, I’ll tell you my address.”
You tell it to a cab driver a moment later and soon, you are knocking on Javier’s door at three in the morning for a so-called booty call. 
He opens the door in nothing but his jeans. 
“Still dressed?” You question, “Thought I had woken you up.”
“Working,” he explains, throwing his head in the direction of his dining table. It is filled with paperwork, case files, and other documents.
“Ah,” you step through to the living room, having left your heels by the door that Javier closes behind you. 
“Whiskey?” He asks when he joins you, grabbing your elbow to get your attention and causing electricity to course through your body. You smile at him and nod, engaging in unnecessary formalities; you know that he knows you’re just here to fuck.
“If you don’t have anything else,” you tease.
When Javier serves you a glass a minute later, you knock the shot back a little too expertly but still grimace at the burn from the liquor. Javier snorts at the sight, shaking the bottle gently, “More?”
You shake your head, “You actually like that stuff?” 
“Smart mouth,” he sighs.
“Last time, you had music to drown me out,” you smirk, leaning back into your seat and feeling the warmth of the whiskey starting to spread through your body. You run a hand through your hair, “Look, you wanna fuck or drink your whiskey?”
It is nowhere near normal for you to be this bold but the warm buzz of the whiskey has made you brave like you were on the dance floor. You blink prettily at him, and he responds by placing the bottle on the glass table without making too much noise. 
“Oh, you’re a dirty one, aren’t you?” Javier’s voice has dropped to a lower pitch, and your whole core is aching for him to touch you like you know he can, “Thought you were just putting on a show for me at the club but you’re really dirty.”
“I can show you if you let me,” you say confidently but still try to compose yourself as he inches closer to you. You can see that he wants to kiss you like he did a week before, and you decide to be the one who initiates it. 
It feels different this time because his body is more exposed, showing the faint hairs scattered across his chest and the shape of his shoulders that had only been left to imagination last time and thus become a fantasy as you lay in your bed at home with two fingers inside of yourself. You grab onto them, digging your fingers into the golden skin, and moan into the kiss. His mouth is open against yours, broad hands on your waist and lower back, and he moves you a step backward every other second. 
Soon, your lips are swollen from kisses but they are not being kissed anymore. Instead, Javier has moved down to your jaw and throat, both parts stinging slightly from his mustache having scratched you. However, he soothes you with the warmth of his tongue and all is forgiven because you are so wet that you cannot think straight.  It has been a while since you have met a man who has kept you quite on your toes like he does. 
You eventually reach the bedroom, dimly lit like he knows how to make it inviting for sex. The nightstand sports several stacks of books but as curious as you are about your suitor, you focus on the bed instead. It looks like the sheets will envelop you in his scent. It is too much of an opportunity to pass up and makes you break free from his arms. The alcohol in your blood persuades you to crawl into his bed without hesitation, feeling the cotton bedding underneath your skin. 
You were right. The bed smells like him; like a mix between sleep and cologne, and it is so masculine that you turn onto your back to stare up at him with the best impression of a siren’s hazy gaze. You slide the straps of your dress off your shoulders, revealing no bra underneath it when your tits spill out as soon as you pull the front of the dress down. Javier stares without any hesitation or shame. 
“C’mere, crawl to me,” he stands by the foot of the bed, making no indication that he is going to join you. You follow his command, getting up on all fours and making your way towards the edge. The dress sits around your waist. He grins down at you, “Oh, you’re a special girl, aren’t you? Look at you doing what you’re told.”
You blink up at him, eyelashes fluttering as you reach out for his belt. He hardens underneath the denim whilst you work the buckle, and the clink of the metal causes a rush of arousal to your lower body. 
When you undo his zipper, his stomach jumps underneath no touch. He breathes deeply in through his nose, “Can’t control myself. I haven’t stopped thinking about your mouth taking my dick last weekend.” 
You tug his jeans down, realizing that he has gone commando underneath. It doesn’t surprise you though, just makes you stare up at him completely wide-eyed but mostly for show. He chuckles when you gape down at his cock which has now sprung free. He seems to notice it is an act and decides to play along, “Took it so well too. Think you can repeat the success, bebita (baby)?”
You nod and then lower your head whilst still looking up at him through your lashes. He waits politely above you, arms along his sides, but shows his impatience with the way his hand twitches slightly when you breathe onto his length. 
You waste no time teasing him, wanting to show him that your talent for sucking cock is not just a skill he had imagined last time, not just a result of having been drunk on being edged by fucking your pussy open. 
You wrap your lips around the girthy head and suck as you pull off until you earn a guttural growl from him. His mouth goes slack when you engulf him in your warmth again, bobbing your head and pulling your soft lips along the shaft over and over again. A hand rests on your head.
“That’s it,” he praises and tries to keep his hips still, his hand tensing up on top of your head in a way that tells you that he is holding back from pushing forward just yet, “Recuerdo que eres sucía (I remember that you’re filthy). Suck that cock, Princesa (princess), like a whore.”
You let saliva gather in your mouth until it sounds obscene when you take more of his cock into your mouth, fitting your hand around what you cannot fit past your kiss-swollen lips. The head bumps against the back of your mouth and causes a wet gag. Javier lets out a sharp sigh of pleasure. You repeat the move until your throat squeezes around him and his fingers tangle into your hair. 
“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he murmurs above you. Your eyes travel up his body to stare at his face, just to get a glimpse before another choke on his dick will blur your vision with tears. His eyes are closed, a crease between his brows telling you that he is concentrating on the pleasure you are giving him. 
You hum as you suck him harder, cheeks hollowed and lips stretched. There’s a determination to hear him growl like he did before since it made your pussy clench around nothing. He’ll find out the state of your panties soon enough, and you hope he’ll know that it’s the result of greedily sucking him off. 
Javier’s eyes open carefully and his fingers tighten their grip hard enough to hurt your sensitive follicles when you make eye contact. He pulses in your mouth when you smirk around him, spit dribbling down your chin from how much effort you are putting into drooling on his dick.
Whenever his breathing pattern changes, you squeeze around the base of his cock to calm his excitement down again. He gets impatient and thrusts his hips forward, the tip of his dick sliding into the tightest space of your throat. It makes you bury your nose in the hair at the base of his cock, your hand falling down into your lap when it has no more to hold. 
Tears spring from your eyes but you don’t falter. Instead, you moan pornographically to tell him it is okay, and Javier takes the opportunity to fuck your mouth until his cock is wet from both your spit and your tears. 
To steady yourself, you reach up and place a hand on his lower belly. You scratch with your nails, meeting the snaps of his lower body with a tell of experience. 
“You’re a little slut,” he groans, “I can tell you suck dick on the regular. How many have had you like this? Because I know I’m not the first.” 
You gag on him instead of giving any indication of an answer. He chuckles breathlessly and stills his hips to guide you with the hand in your hair instead, creating a makeshift ponytail to force you onto his dick. You take whatever he wants to give you, pussy so touch-starved that it makes your head spin. 
“S-stop,” he eventually moans and loosens his grip but still cannot make himself pull out of your tight wet throat, “Pull off, I— shit, baby, you almost made me come.”
You do as you are told. An obscene string of saliva connects between your mouth and the tip of his dick, and he uses a thumb to sever it by trailing the digit across your swollen bottom lip. He smiles affectionately when you suck the finger into your mouth, “Want this messy thumb on your clit, huh?” 
You nod with his finger still in your mouth. Slick arousal has started to spill through your underwear, smearing your inner thighs with how much giving him a blowjob has made you gush. You pull away, his thumb slipping from your mouth making a popping sound. 
“Legs up, come on now,” he guides after you have completely rid yourself of your dress. You lay back and scoot to the very edge of the bed. Then you try to hook your legs over his hips, but he grabs your ankles one by one to rest your feet against his front, stretching your limbs high into the air.
He makes a self-satisfied face when he guides his wet thumb underneath the fabric of your underwear to find that he had never even needed your spit; you are drenched and waiting. He scoops some of your wetness onto his thumb and then presses down on your clit, seeming to remember just where it is from last time. He swirls the digit on the swollen nub, “Right there?”
You whimper and nod. Your toes curl, “Sí (yes), Papí. Don’t stop.”
“You can still talk after getting throat-fucked like that?” He taunts but doesn’t make any indication that he’ll tease or edge you. No, he seems determined to have you remember how good he is in bed and he reminds you of it by giving your clit the attention it needs. He swirls his thumb, goes from side to side, and up and down until your voice starts growing in pitch. 
He listens, really listens, and observes your reactions to what he does and with each beat of your heart, you gush a little more slick onto the sheets. Only a minute later, you have an earth-shattering clit-orgasm that has your brows furrowed and your eyes screwed shut. 
“Fuck me,” you beg during your high but he shakes his head, and you nearly decide to lose it. Though the eyes he gives you make you unable to protest. That gaze makes it seem like you’ll take anything he says as gospel, even when your walls are spasming around nothing. He knows better, there’s no doubt about it. You await his next move, head falling back on the mattress and with big eyes fixated on the way he towers over your smaller frame. 
“Turn around,” he eventually decides, “Crawl back on the bed.”
You follow orders in your post-orgasmic state, blood rushing in your ears so you cannot be sure if you actually hear him chuckle at your shaking legs when you try crawling to the middle of the bed. You pose on your hands and knees in the sexiest manner you can manage, awaiting his cock with an obedient and desperate cunt in the air. 
Whatever your brain cannot process in your pleasurable haze, you must feel instead, and behind you, Javier’s weight makes the mattress dip beneath the both of you. He has knelt behind you and you whimper as his strong, broad palms settle on your hips to pull them into the height that he needs them to be.
“Gimme your hands,” he commands but you cannot register it fast enough when you feel so empty and weak from not being fucked, so he yanks your arms behind your back one at a time without warning. You plant your face right into the sheets with a whine that’s muffled by the fabric until you think to turn your head to the side. This time, you are sure about the fact that he is laughing darkly at you. 
You realize he has you in a police grip, able to do whatever he wants and you realize that he wants to fuck you raw, no piece of rubber between you. This doesn’t bother you one bit tonight.
He only lets go of your wrists to guide his cock inside of your quivering body with one hand, then holds onto your arms again with both when your warm and soft heat engulfs him. 
“Listen, bebita (baby). It’s like three in the morning and the neighbors are asleep,” he tells you and you don’t think you could ever stay quiet when he is so big inside of you. You are just about to say something but then he surprises you by finishing his sentence, “Do you understand? I’m gonna need you to scream for me.”
Oh. 
“Sí (yes), Papi,” you groan as you still try to adjust to his girth, not quite remembering that his dick had felt this huge inside of you the last time you were together. He settles deep inside of you, fills you out until you cannot take any more of him, and then pounds you.  
“Bet they’re all over you when you’re out playing a little tease in the club. I was,” he muses as he fucks you hard enough to make the bed rattle underneath you, fingers denting the delicate skin of your wrists. The headboard has already started to repeatedly bang against the wall and the sudden halts to each movement of the furniture make his thrusts painful, “Bet they wanna touch and fuck you like I get to. You know how much you make men think about sex, don’t you?”
“Javi,” you pant as he continues, not able to do much more than take it and feel the heat pool between your thighs. You are soaking wet around him, lewd noises of your stretched-out cunt sucking him in filling the room each time he goes deep enough to have you see God. 
“Can’t say anything else, can you? Fucked stupid, is that it?” He moans when you shake and nod your head, mind too foggy to figure out which move is the right one when you have gotten two questions in a row. You can only think of his huge cock driving brutally into you, “You weren’t like this last time but we weren’t— ah, fuck. We weren’t in private last time, were we?”
This time you know to shake your head. You want to come, God, you are going to soon. 
“But now I have you all to myself and I get to show this gorgeous pussy who’s boss, fuck the brat out of her,” he lets go with one hand to smack your ass harshly and groans when you squeeze around his length in surprise, a yelp tearing itself from your throat, “You like that? Make it hurt, wasn’t that what you said?”
“Yes, please,” you finally manage a coherent word that isn’t his name. The knot in your belly is starting to tighten and his rapid movements are starting to make your body respond by building up a high, “Yes, I do, don’t stop! You— you’re gonna make me come, Papi.”
He growls and seeks his own satisfaction and pleasure, knowing that he won’t need to do anything else to make you come again other than fucking against your g-spot whilst his heavy balls slap against your clit. In response, all you can do is drool and lie in it, his harsh rhythm forcing the air out of your lungs in high cries with every crash of his hips into you. 
“What more do you like?” He smacks your ass again, faltering for less than a second as he gets an idea, “Eres una chica sucía, ¿te gusta un dedo en el culo (You’re a dirty girl, you like a finger in your ass)?”
You rub your forehead against the sheets when you nod frantically. Behind you, Javier stops talking but only to obscenely spit down the cleft of your ass and use his thumb to smear it over the ring of muscle there. 
You gasp and whimper, pushing back into the touch. 
“Whore,” he pants and adds pressure to your hole. 
“Want it, Daddy,” you beg softly. 
He eases the digit inside of you and your eyes roll back into your skull when he adds a whole new sensation to getting fucked by him. He can’t contain himself at the sight of his finger disappearing into your ass over and over, “I know you do. So fucking take it.”
The pressure inside of you from two places becomes too much. You get one more breath in before pleasure erupts from your sensitive pussy and you come hard with a cry loud enough to make your voice crack. Javier swears loudly behind you when your walls choke his cock and your untouched clit pulses in interest too at feeling something so powerful. 
“Come in me, Javi,” you cry as he fucks you through your overstimulation. Your skin is slick with sweat, glistening as it beads along your spine and settles into the dip in your arched back. 
“Say please, Princesa (princess),” he breathes rapidly, trying to hold back until you have done what he says. 
“Please,” you sob, “Pleasepleaseplease.”
“Good girl,” he praises and gives you only a few thrusts more. He comes inside of you with a grunt, stilling his hips whilst his cock twitches as it shoots and pulses inside of you. It is enough to make it drip out of you already, creating a ring around his dick that lazily starts sliding in and out of your abused hole to milk the very last drops from the tip. 
You fall flat on your front the second he pulls out. Nothing else exists except your fucked-out body, nerves tingling with electricity at how hard you have felt ecstatic pleasure tonight. You want to giggle or sob or giggle and sob but your eyelids feel so heavy. 
“You okay?” Javier asks from behind you. He has crawled forward to hover over you, placing a kiss on your shoulder, “Pussy took a pounding.”
“‘M fine,” you mutter with a little sigh as Javier’s lips leave kisses in their wake as he moves down your used, trembling body. He rubs your aching thighs.
“Should apologize to her,” he mumbles and places a kiss on the small of your back. You whimper in reply, pulling your arms forward to bury your spinning head in them and relish in the softness that he gives you. 
However, that softness has ulterior motives because soon, he is tilting your hips a little. He is still trailing his tongue over your lower back, through the sweat that has pooled there and then further down over your puckered hole. He ends with his mouth between your folds, hands that had been soothing your legs now curling around your thighs to pull them slightly apart so he can eat the dribble of come right from your freshly-fucked pussy. 
“I can’t,” you groan even if it’s soothing to feel his soft tongue inside of you. 
“Yes,” he slurps loudly and scoops more out of you, going down to lap on your clit. Between tortuous sucks that are strong enough to hollow his cheeks, he talks softly, “Just take it, bebita (baby). Let me make you feel better. You took it so well.”
A third high burns deep below your belly button but he builds it slower than when he had had his thumb on your clit by switching between eating from your seam and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. 
“Javi,” you feel stupid for having said his name so many times tonight without following it up with anything else but he seems to understand what each enunciation of his name means. 
“I know,” he coos and bobs his head a little, “I’m almost done, just a little more.”
When you are clean of any remnants of his spill, he works towards your orgasm whilst you cry feebly. He sucks at your clit with gentle enthusiasm, coaxing your exhausted body to reach its climax once again not long after. Tears spring from your eyes as pleasure is forced to flow through your cunt again, rapid clenching around nothing making your hips stutter as you think you might gush enough to ruin the mattress. 
Javier pulls away as soon as you come down, moving to lie down beside you and give you the space that you need. You cry in your overwhelmed state but it’s only silent tears that slide down over your nose and cheek. 
He tuts and coos, “Nena (Babygirl).”
That nickname makes you cry louder. 
“Do you need help getting onto your back?” He asks carefully. You nod and without hesitation, he helps you move your body around until you are on your back, staring up at the ceiling. 
“I’m sorry,” you feel embarrassed but unable to control your emotions.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks. You nod again. 
He reaches to turn your head towards himself, cupping your cheek carefully and using his thumb to brush a tear away. You hold onto his wrist as he kisses you. 
“No more tears,” he tells you with a soft smile and strokes your cheek in such a gentle manner that you cannot help but give him a little smile of your own in return, “You were so good.” 
“Thank you,” you say with a fluttering heart, mascara burning underneath your eyes. 
“Let me get you a glass of water,” he pecks your lips a few times more but when he tries to pull away, you whine like a child not getting their way. He says your time but then lets you crawl to him. He hugs you close, draping your leg over his hip, and coos soft praises until you fall asleep. 
“I have work in the morning,” he mumbles into your hair, but then why does he still let you sleep in his arms all through the night? 
You wake up to aspirin and water. You take it and gulp down the whole glass, only briefly waking up again when he crawls into bed with you late in the evening to hold you close once more.
“I’ll order some food,” he tells you while repeatedly kissing your still bare body.
“Okay,” you say and fall asleep again. 
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
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sonicranger1 · 13 days ago
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I'm still pissed at ROTT so since I'm not a YouTube reviewer you get this text wall of me explaining why while the ending of the movie does indeed suck it isn't just the ending that sucks
Why didn't Jim put on any armor till the very end? you pretentious child why should I care if you got injured when you're running around armorless just because you can't have your magical amulet armor anymore
Why was Jim questioning if he was still the Trollhunter when all the way back in S2 E11 'Unbecoming' of Trollhunters he himself said "I know I'm the Trollhunter. I'm the Trollhunter, Amulet or not"
Why did Jim suddenly start caring about his father in the movie? Aside from the fact the conversation leads to nothing and you could've easily cut it out and it wouldn't have changed anything it was established all the way back in S1 that Jim never cared about his father so why retcon that?
They shouldn't have killed Nomura off so early when we've barely been able to see her dynamic with the Trollhunter cast outside of being an antagonist and let alone see her dynamic with the cast of 3below and Wizards
Following up on the last one why did you send Trolls to the only Titen in broad daylight, you can't tell me there weren't better picks then Nomura and Arrrgh
And on that point, here's my little fan reassignment of the teams
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(I put way to much effort in this literally sobbing, pls click 4 better quality :'()
Anyways time to explain my reasonings
Team Sword: the OG was fine I have almost no problems with this one but Krel could've been utilized way better imo, also Arrrgh is perfect for lifting up a giant rock with a sword embedded in it, he's literally always described as a hulking brute by other characters so ??
Team Orb: same thing with Team Sword I have nothing against it and it's probably the best one out of all of the originals but man Nomura interacting with Blinky is just... such an amusing thought to me, it is partly fueled by the short kinda interaction they had when Krel was playing music earlier in the movie but anyways more serious reasoning is I think she's the best alternative to Claire since it's not like her shadow magic was- or could've been used at any point during the mission乁(ツ)∫
Team Sunshine: once again what the hell was Jim thinking with this one? The only one that made sense to be there was Douxie, anyways reasonings with this one is that 1. Toby would actually be utilized lmao 2. Toby and Krel interactions fuel my soul 3. With Toby's hammer and Krels tech they'd probably have a way easier time getting up the Earth Titen
Team Icy: Claire Shadow magic = no rope snapping and lesser chance of Strickler dying aka less unnecessary deaths yay :DDDD
The mission assigning was such a good opportunity to have characters interact who haven't interacted prior/flesh out previously established relationships that didn't get alot of screentime and ROTT blew it, truly so much missed potential but I suppose you can say that for the entire movie
Why did they just casually mention there was a heartstone on Akiridion-5 like we knew that information prior to the movie? no one commented on it and it made me feel insane while watching
GET. RID. OF THE. MPREG. SIDE PLOT‼️‼️‼️ you're not Fairly OddParents it doesn't work and doesn't make sense, Aja and Steve have entirely different biology
(These next ones are more personal/general nitpicks but whatever)
Call me a hater but the whole "Arcadia is the center of the universe" is so dumb, I remember first hearing that little bit of info from a fancomic and i thought it was just having Blinky be egotistical but no, apparently that's a fact of life now
Idk I think it's cooler and funnier if all these guys came to Arcadia out of pure coincidence yknow?
what/where was Dictatious, Chompsky, Nancy/Nana and anyone else I'm forgetting doing during all this especially when Arcadia was being destroyed at the end, just feel like they should've atleast done a quick cut away shot to what they were doing during all this chaos (translation: I miss Dictatious)
Why doesn't Blinky use Dwärkstones anymore, I thought that was gonna be his signature weapon after The Eternal Knight but apparently not I guess, seeing him chuck explosives at Gods definitely wouldn't have been cool anyways...
Blinky sure has alot of time on his hands for being the supposed Head of New Jersey Trollmarket
Btw does that place even exist cuz for all intents and purposes it doesn't, so serious why didn't we ever get to see it dude 😭
Before I get to pointing out the obvious with the ending I'd like to highlight scenes that I actually liked and were actually good!
I liked the scene in the somewhat beginning with Blinky and Arrrgh talking about if the other dies they were glad they got to know the other that was sweet, loved it, 10/10
Like I mentioned earlier the brief scene with Krel playing music and Blinky and Nomura being annoyed by it was great, got a chuckle out of me and I wish we got to see more of that
Blinky being electrocuted was pretty good 👍 the pilot unnecessarily pointing out his multiple eyes and arms was funny to me
near the end where Blinky went to comfort arrrgh when Toby died was another 10/10 I love them ur honor
Okay being nice over, time to dig into this movie again
Toby being the Trollhunter is such a terrible idea for multiple reasons
For 1. It just makes Jim's job harder now cuz changing something as fundamental as who's the Trollhunter is gonna drastically change so many things which inturn makes things far less predictable and unless Jim has the new amulet still (which is unlikely since he's never shown with it after going back) he can't just Undertale-style reset if something goes wrong
2. Toby has never shown interest in being in any leader-type role (unless you count him directing his short film in 3below) and considering part of being the Trollhunter is basically leading an entire race...
3. Sorta following up on point 2 The role of being Trollhunter holds so much responsibility and burden and it just... dare I say, doesn't make sense for Jim as a character to put that burden onto Toby, his best friend
Guys this is the same kid who went into the darklands alone to take on Gunmar because he didn't want to see anymore of his friends/family getting hurt and you expect me to believe he'd then put that all onto Toby?
4. Toby even getting the amulet doesn't make sense considering in 'Unbecoming' the amulet was already taken by Draal by the time school ended
5. Speaking of 'Unbecoming' that episode also established that if anyone but Jim got the amulet Arcadia- and in extension the world- would be doomed and the eternal knight would happen so I guess he wants everyone to die ! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Anyways I'm done (hopefully) TLDR: the movies awful, makes dumb decisions, completely ignores or retcons things established earlier in the franchise and didn't utilize it's extensive cast at all
And if you've read this far, thank you I appreciate it and I'll use this time to recommend the original Trollhunters book, it's awesome and has an ending 10x better then this slop please go read it (IHaveATotallyLegalWayForYouToReadItEasily)
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yuri-is-online · 9 months ago
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Ok but how did ace even get a girlfriend in the first place? Did she confess and he just went along with it? Did he think having a girlfriend would make him seem cooler? Was it a dare or something? Cause for someone like ace to just go ghost on her and not have an actual talk, kind of makes me feel like these two were not friends before they were partners.
So then, fast forward to nrc, ace is trying so hard to lose the feelings he has for his best friend. Because that's all they are: friends, homies, if you (duece) will. Yuu has the cream of the crop to pick from, he's kind of at a disadvantage here.
Plus, whose to say their entire dynamic won't change the second they get together? He doesn't want to get bored and start to hate one of his dearest friends by proxy, so might as well just play it safe and suffer a little than take that risk and the both of you suffer a lot 🤷‍♂️.
Meanwhile yuu, who still has their old phone/mp3 player, has been playing Jenny by Studiokillers on repeat. Lying in their bed, just down horrendous for this absolute ball of boyish mischief. How dare he, honestly?
Well. At least he gives them a lot of openings to flirt with him?
*disclaimer, I was home schooled so my actual knowledge about middle school dating is beyond non-existent so take what I say with a grain of salt
The information we get about Ace's girlfriend comes from his suitor suit vignette and he does not mention how they actually got together, just some of the things that they did and how boring Ace thought all of them were. And I agree! The way they broke up does not make it sound like they were friends before dating, though they could have been casual acquaintances. The way Ace likes to goof around makes me think he was probably pretty popular, and had a lot of those types of relationships. His description of the relationship makes me think he probably went out with her because he thought she was cute and that it would be fun to have a girlfriend, but didn't actually stop to think about who she was as a person or what dating actually means. And hey, he was in middle school. He was going to be a bit stupid about those sort of things. The experience seems to have made him think a lot about what he wants in a partner, and we know from Ortho he was telling the truth when he's forced to spell it out:
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His voice lines flesh out what he wants a bit more; he says he thinks it's important to find someone you have fun with and that he wants to get married later in life. So Ace knows what he wants... he just gets really embarrassed when called out on it and refuses to talk honestly about his feelings (though he kind of does that in general hehe)
So flashing forward to NRC. Ace knows what he wants and Yuu is such a perfect fit it hurts. Best friends to lovers is a popular trope in fiction sure, but in real life? At a school? Yeah right, Ace still has to see them every day if they break up, and not to mention... I feel like Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Yuu sort of fell into their dynamic almost immediately after the mine adventure and didn't ever stop to think about it because of how natural the friendship felt. And Ace knows if things end badly he's losing the whole squad, so yeah. Better to just swallow this and stay where he is. He's still in school! He doesn't need to think about dating! He's got a housewarden to surpass, upperclassmen he admires, and a bunch of idiots to take care of. He can worry about dating later. Besides, these feelings will go away after graduation he's delusional sure of it!!!
Meanwhile, back at the ranch Ramshackle Yuu is literally in a living hell. Maybe they're a bit more emotionally mature than Ace and they just know this could work out but THEY CAN'T TELL IF HE LIKES THEM BACK BECAUSE HE KEEPS GETTING SHY AND MAKING JOKES FML!!!! But like he also lets them steal his gym shirt :ccc and he gets pouty when someone else makes an offer :ccc and really smug when Yuu says no ccc: so like maaaybe? Or maybe not and this meaningless flirting is all they'll ever have and they just. Try to be ok with it and they sort of hate themselves for it.
until Sebek properly joins the friend group and looses his fucking shit
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stardancerluv · 1 month ago
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What the Emperor Wants
Part 6
Summary: A new dynamic between and the reader who belongs to him. Things take place the dark of the night.
Notes/Warning: 18+, pinv consensual intercourse (be safe!), virginity lost, blood & a dagger is mentioned, ownership, womanhood is mentioned, worship and belief of old gods, mentions of someone that pays Geta in the middle of the night (no spoiler, please read!)
Strigil: to clean off the oils or soaps off a body. Sperlonga: where Julius Ceaser first emperor of Rome was born, Borghi più belli d'Italia: means the most beautiful village in Italy.
❤️s, reblogs, comments, feedback are all welcome! Thank you for reading. 💐
You felt as his eyes drifted over you.
"I am very proud of you today."
Licking his bottom lip, he bit it. He looked as of
he was thinking of what else needed to be said.
"You did not make me regret my decision."
"I am glad."
A smile curled his lips.
"Come here."
Your heart beat harder as drew closer.
"I wish to relax for the rest of the night."
He pointed to a bottle of oil.
"Rub that into my back. While you do so, using
your words like an artist, tell me where your
people come from."
"If that is what you wish."
"It is." He took a seat on a stone bench near you.”
"Rub that into my back. While you do so, using your words like an artist, tell me where your people come from."
"If that is what you wish."
"It is." He took a seat on a stone bench near you. Nearing the bottle you saw a very elegant strigil. When you picked it up, it scrapped against the marble table
"It's very sharp.'
"It is. So be careful, I do not wish to shed my blood tonight."
You nodded.
"If we are to shed any blood, it will be your womanhood."
"My womanhood." You echoed.
You had heard of it being possible but hearing it again made your stomach churn.
He turned more towards you from where he sat and looked at you. His hair cascaded over his brow like a sunset.
"Yes, it is the sacrifice that is made to the great gods of the heavens and to your emperor?”
"Yes, Geta. I understand:
"You better. I do not feel you are a hysterical girl.”
“I’ve never been known to be one.”
“Good.”
He sat once again with his back to it.
You placed the strigil down. You rubbed your hands together, warming them. You mother had always taught you it is better to touch with warmth then coolness.
Pulling the stopper you brought the bottle of the fine oil to your nose. Your eyes, grew.
“Sire?”
He didn’t move. “What did I say about that?”
“Geta,” You swallowed. “I am sorry.”
“It’s fine. It shows how well you have been trained.”
Even though you could not see it; you were convinced one of his cooler smiles curled his lips at that remark.
“Yes.”
“What is it? Why the pause?”
“The oil. It is the same used on me earlier.”
“Yes, yes it is.”
“But, but…” You voice trailed off as the words failed to be expressed.
“You belong to me. I will share the best with you when I choose it to be.”
“Oh?” A flutter went through you. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, don’t make me wait any further.”
“Yes, yes of course.”
You placed the bottle down, then once again rubbed your hands. A good spirit filled you at the thought. You would keep in a good temperament whenever you could.
Picking up the bottle, you poured some of the oil on your hands first, instead of just dribbling some on his back first. If had always felt more comforting when done this. You hoped he would feel the same way.
In the brief moment before your hands felt his shoulders, you were certain they tingled. Perhaps it was the goddess Venus blessing you tonight. You murmured a soft prayer to her and then laid your hands upon him.
Your heart felt like it would erupt from you. It was beating very hard.
Your hands drifted, rubbed and gently squeezed where it felt needed. His posture stopped being rigid after some time. But he didn’t utter a word, you took it as a sign he was enjoying himself.
Pausing for a breath, you poured some more oil onto your palm.
“Oh, yes. You have grown to silent.”
He looked at you over his shoulder. His profile sharper than the coins that attempted to bear his likeness
“You are to still tell me of where your family comes from.”
“Yes.”
You placed the bottle down once again.
You began to move your hands down lower on his strong back. A strong warmth burned him. It was the strength of the gods, you were certain of it.
“My family lived on the brink of forever. Where the water laps against golden sands are a brilliant and turquoise.”
“Does it go by the name Sperlonga?”
“Yes, Geta I was told that is its name.”
“You come from a mighty land. The great Tiberius came from that ground.”
“Our first Emperor, Geta?” You gad heard whispering among the elders.
“Yes, yes he was.” He paused. “Now, I know quite more about you.”
“Geta, I am confused.”
A chuckle came from him and he turned away but then moved more so he could face you.
“Borghi più belli d'Italia.”
He said simply, his tongue becoming elegant. He spoke of the sentiment you heard frequently of your village.
“And you, are also quite lovely. Your roots are from there. Though I would dare say being in Rome and working so closely to your emperor, only helped with your beauty. The goddesses and gods are kind to you.”
You trembled, you didn’t know what to say. You bowed your head.
“Thank you Geta.”
He nodded, before reaching for and grabbing the strigil.
“Time for you to finish.”
“Yes.” Though you placed it down.
You went to the plant with its large leaves and knowing which ones were dying, their edges browning, you pinched them off at the stem and brought them over and placed them under foot.
“For an easier clean.”
He nodded.
You took a breath, steadied your hand and soon scrapped away the layer of oil. His skin had a new radiance. His features, the strength underneath shone through. Once done you, wiped the strigil and placed it on the table and put the stopper back into the bottle.
He rolled his shoulder. He made a soft, pleasant sound and soon stood. Once again he was close and you were reminded of how he could tower over you. A smile was on his lips.
He brought your chin up. “You didn’t even prick the skin.”
“You warned me, so I kept my breath and was careful yet thorough.”
“Good for that.” His thumb caressed your jaw. “Remove your garments and go and lay in the bed.” His eyes narrowed. “On your back.”
You nodded. And he let you go.
Your heart had beat hard before, now more. Besides the bed is where you loosened the knots and undid the clasp that bore his profile. Not know where to go exactly, you went to its center.
He came over, he did the knot of his belt. Soon like falling leaves, his braccae fell to the ground, not far from where your garments laid.
He crawled over to you. Your stomach fluttered. Truly, the gods had been kind to him. He was trim and sharp like the staues artists have erected in his honor.
He came to rest beside you. “I will touch you now.”
“Yes Geta.”
Soft sounds came from you as his finger tips grazed from your cheek, to your throat to your chest. He cupped one of your breasts.
“Oh, it feels good. I am sure one day they would be good for a babe to suckle at.”
“I hope so.” Your voice shook. His touch was light, barely felt it. But made you very pleased. Soft sounds came from you.
A smile curled his lips.
His hand drifted over to where your heart was. You don’t know why but you shifted a breath.
His dark eyes found yours.
“My heart, is thudding hard.” It was all you could say, you were terribly breathless. Could barely hold onto one.
“That is how it is. You have not departed yet, from this world for the underworld blossom.”
“Oh?”
He nodded.
Moving back, his hand then splayed on your chest. He smiled. “See I felt it move faster. It is responding to me.”
“I believe so.”
His hand then traveled along the curve and softness of tour stomach.
“Your body pleasing me greatly.”
You nodded. “I am glad.”
You gasped, your eyes grew when you found his hand cupping you.
“This feels good.” He gave you a squeeze. “Soft, warm. Ready, to welcome me?”
“Yes.”
“Open your legs for me, bid me entrance.”
He climbed over you, the sight made tingles come from the very center. The sensations, were welcome but they did spread through you. In your breathless state, you glanced away from his magnificence.
“Am I so ill to the eye. Should I have warmed you with wine like my brother does with the dancers, he randomly beds?”
His words were sharp, they stung.
You quickly looked back. “No, Geta. It is just you are truly like a god before. And I can barely catch my breath. I do know what you shall want me to do.”
An edge remain but his words were softer.
“Let your body, let your heart lead. They will know what to do.”
“As you wish.”
Soon, with his free hand you felt as he opened you further so he could properly settle between your legs. The tingles, you had felt earlier caused a needy ache in you. Perhaps, it was that part of you that knew what to do while being guided by the fates.
You felt as he brushed against you, a soft sound escaped your lips, a mixture of pleasure and surprise. It had felt good. You glanced down. His arousal was quite big, it matched the rest of his beauty.
“Your body as responded to me. Just like the ground is thirsty for the water from the rains, your body is ready.”
“Yes. But am I not too small. I do not want to cause any displeasure in you.”
You were taken aback. You had not expected to be more ready then you were. Perhaps it was from his gentle words and touch. You tried to understand how you were feeling empty, feeling an unexplainable need for him. But you wanted this and would not stop him.
“A sword sheaths itself, that sheath must must be barely big enough to hold the sword it is safe. You are perfect, for me. Though, I should remind you there will be pain. It is the sacrifice that must be made. From this night forth, you will forever be mine along with your woman hood.”
You nodded. You felt there was no great sacrifice then to one’s emperor who had already been far kinder then you could have ever expected.
At first, there was quite a bit of pressure and it was not long before the slice of pain ripped through you. You gasped and called out, arching against him. You clawed at the soft fabrics under the two of you.
He still and waited till your body called and it did, but sweat broke out as if you were out in the sun. It must be from warmth that came from him. The pain soon ebbed.
“Shall I continue?” That was when you realized he had truly stilled but was still deep within you.
“Please.” Something you were unfamiliar began to build within you and you wanted more of it.
Soon, Geta easily began moving easily in and out of you. His breathing shortened and sounds, came from him you had never heard before.
There were sounds you had heard them in the neighboring sleeping quarters where you lived before he brought you to the domus.
Soon, his fingertips grazed between the two of you. A sharp pleasure ripped through you.
“Your bud is as delicate as the flowers you love.” His voice was raspy. You were lost in your sensation to barely realize what he said. All you knew was he spoke.
It cleared your thoughts all you could do was make your own incoherent sounds you grasped onto him. You felt like you could shatter yet you entire body tightened.
“Oh Geta.” You whimpered under him. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t, my blossom.” His voice was strained.
A moan was ripped from you as his fingers grazed once again between the two of you.
You bucked and felt as everything with your erupted, it felt absolutely amazing. Once you could see beyond the bursts of stars in your eyes you were melting under Geta.
He arched against you a final time and soon, uttered his own very deep moan. Be he came to rest his forehead against your shoulder. His breath was hot he panted before he moved and was laying on his back beside you.
You honestly do not know what came over you, perhaps it was the goddess Venus herself that truly liked the union of you and Geta. But in glow of the pleasure that had filled you; turning you looked at Geta.
His lashed laid softly on his cheeks as he breathing began to steady.
“Will be do this again?”
He smiled, though his eyes didn’t open. “Yes. Though that was enough for one night. Like wine, I do not want to grow terribly addicted to you. Not good for an emperor or you.”
“Oh.” His words fell over you like a shadow. You could tell how it made you feel but the glow began to shrink in its size.
His finally opened and he looked at you. “Also, so that words don’t fly faster then then already do at the senate or the forum, you must go back to your chambers but I will see you for our morning meal.”
“Yes.”
You knew enough to get up then and easily wrapped the elegant fabrics around you. He rolled away as you glanced over. It made a pang go through you.
*******
Once in your room, you paused after closing the door. You felt suddenly very hollow, as if his ownership finally was realized. You hugged yourself tightly.
After sometime, not knowing truly how long you stood and were going to prepare for sleep which is beckoning. When you realized, the golden clasp was not in your possession. His words echoed in your mind, they had given you a chill. Yet, you didn’t want yourself to be the cause of those loose words. So carefully you crept once more past his sleeping guards, something you would tell him about over perhaps some more full, very crisp and pleasant grapes.
You opened the heavy door and in the few candles that remained flickering in his chambers, you made your way to the alcove where his bed was.
A scream came from you that you had never known to be in your possession. It came from somewhere deep inside of you. There beside his bed was a man holding a very large dagger, he looked like he was prepared to strike.
Geta awoke, the man brought down the dagger. Moving just so it only managed to slice at his upper arm instead of his heart; where he had appeared to be aiming for. The sight of crimson was stark to the rest of the night. Everything became fuzzy, your knees began to buckle before all became black.
@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @screaming-blue-bagel @missonlypost @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @heartsforjosephquinn
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asteraddicted · 2 months ago
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Small interaction idea I got for the Supersons (pre-Jon age up; I HATE THAT PART) soooo sorry if this is bad its my first official drabble post (did i use that term correctly???)
Based on this (one part blacked out bc idk how tumblr would take it)
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"Hey, Damian?" Jon spoke up, he and Damian lounging in Damian's room because— no offense to Clark, but Wayne Manor was cooler for sleepovers.
"Yes, Kent?" Damian huffed, focused on sharpening one of his many daggers. Despite the dynamic, the two were undeniable best friends. It was surprising at first, with Damian's blunt, down-to-earth personality with snap backs and insults that would make a grown man cry. Damian Wayne, best friends with a sunny, optimistic, 'blinding everyone with his smile' Jon Kent. But of course, the two didn't start out that way.
"Remember when you practically- no, you DID kidnap me after I accidentally.. killed a cat and a hawk?" Jon mumbled the last part, clearly still ashamed of it. He hadn't told Damian the whole story yet, despite how long it had been. Damian's eyebrows furrowed, and he got a little closer. He remembered those times, back before they were friends.
"Yes, I remember," he replied, his voice still firm as he inquired. "Why are you bringing that up again, Kent?" Damian — despite his almost inhuman abilities, talents, and feats — was still human, and still had the ability to forget things.
"..Nothing! It's just.. the cat. Goldie was her name. It's her deathday today." Jon frowned, having always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Jon couldn't help but mistake the sting building up in his eyes as the burning feeling of letting his heat vision go off and MURDER cremate the two innocent creatures on accident. It was only for a second, but Damian could see how Jon panicked in that little moment.
"And? Your point?" He said, his tone a surprisingly a tad bit softer than usual. He didn't really know what Jon was talking about. Really, he did remember kidnapping Jon because he didn't trust him. But to Damian? That was like another regular Tuesday for him.
"..I didn't mean to kill Goldie, or the hawk. I know you know that. But Goldie had escaped her house, and I was chasing her to get her back." Jon began to explain, and he wasn't as cheerful as he usually was. Not as he finally told Damian the full story. Jon couldn't help it. It had been at the very least a few years ago, but the horror Jon had felt that day was something Jon himself never forgot.
"..their bodies were charred and burning. Couldn't tell hawk from cat.. only Goldie's collar remained! I.." Jon had to go quiet to compose himself. His hands were actually shaking. Damian listened to the story. He knew something was wrong with Jon. He was not his usual cheerful, confident self.
Damian looked at Jon, his expression hard to read. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to comfort him. Damian was never good at comfort. He just sat back in silence for a while, processing what Jon had told him. Being from the League of Assassins, death was nothing new to him. Hell, he's killed animals on purpose for mission and training before he was taken to Wayne Manor. Whales and tigers and lions and eagles, on and on. It was a little hard to see from Jon's perspective, but Damian tried.
"..Y'know.. I don't think you remember what you said to me when I woke up after you kidnapped me. Hehe.." Jon let out a chuckle, smiling with his teeth to try and lighten his sadness with humor. "You told me.. 'You are a threat to every living thing on and off this planet.' And Damian, I know this is stupid, but.." Jon curled his knees to his chest, eyes on the blank screen as a movie they were watching played it's end credits.
"..I believed you. In a way.. I still do. I'm scared of myself, Dami." Jon admitted quietly before grinning and wiping his tears.
"But I guess that's pretty dumb, right?" Jon grinned widely. He was half-Kryptonian and his dad was Superman! He shouldn't cry, and he didn't have any reason to! He was growing up, and he should be more in control of his emotions.
Yet Jon had let his mind wander multiple times, whenever he passed by where it happened. It was ironic, but Jon couldn't help but be scared of himself. Yes, himself. He had the powers of Superman — the Man of Steel himself. And he was also a young boy who could be easily tricked and manipulated. Jon was strong and carefree, but he wasn't stupid. At least not all the time. Jon has witnessed some extremely traumatic events in his life. The possibility that he had the power to massacre entire cities — maybe states, countries, or eventually the world? That was something that made Jon want to lock himself up in a kryptonite cage and hide away.
Jon was afraid of his powers and the destruction they could bring. He was immune to fire, but still couldn't stop himself from imagining the burning, mangled, charred bodies of a hawk and a cat each time there was a fire that was large enough.
Damian clenched his jaw. He remembered that day. He remembered telling Jon that he was a threat. Listening to Jon talk about his fear of himself and his own powers made something inside of Damian ache. He didn't like it. Not one bit.
"It's not dumb," he said, his voice softer than usual. Damian didn't know why he was being so soft (he knew exactly why, but he didn't want to admit it. Not yet.). "And you're not a threat, Kent. You're not. You never were. You're the last person who's a threat to anything."
"That's EXACTLY why I'm a threat, Dames! I'm part Kryptonian!.. I'm invincible to most on Earth." Jon exclaimed, sighing. "I can still go rogue! Dad has gone rogue before. I don't.." Jon trailed off.
"Kent. If you think for a second I'd let you go rogue, just know my Father has plenty of Kryptonite stocked away that I would not hesitate to use." Damian narrowed his eyes, but not in an angry way. It was affectionate, though it would be hard to tell from an outsider's perspective. Jon, oddly enough, felt reassured. Reassured that if something goes wrong, that Damian would be there to stop him. He'd always be there to stop him.
"You promise, Dames?" Jon couldn't help but whisper.
"Yes, I promise. Now come on. Didn't you want to show me this movie called 'Legally Blonde' or something?" Damian rolled his eyes, but they still held that tinge of care. That hint of affection that was only reserved for Jon, and wasn't the type that Damian held for his family. No, Damian had a part of his heart specifically reserved for Jon Kent.
"Okay, good. Now come on, let's watch a pretty girl kick legal butt!" Jon grinned, ultimately feeling much better. He was so lucky to have Damian.
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AN: First post, not beta read and written in the dead of night lol. I do not write much. Romantic or platonic? Idk you choose :P
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blossombriefs · 7 months ago
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OMGGG, I love how you write Frieza's headcanons. I would find it funny if Cooler would give passive-aggressive comments towards Frieza just to annoy him, while King Cold would just look at us and sigh in resignation.
"If Frieza is with you it's for a reason… I guess"
If you don't mind, could you make headcanons of what that meeting would be like? I would love to read it 😭❤️
Thaw This Frozen Heart | A Frieza OneShot
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Authors Note: Even better, I'll treat you to a short oneshot <3 Eat up Frieza stans, I know you're all craving content! Summary: The reader and Frieza are in a relationship and Frieza decides to introduce them to his father and brother. Content: SFW, Frieza a smidgen out of character, human reader dating a non human partner, gender neutral reader Word Count: 609 words
Deep in space, where the stars danced in the eternal silence of the galaxy, a spaceship peacefully glided through the cosmos. The same could not be said for their feared emperor, Lord Frieza. Sitting atop his throne in the control room, his mind was secretly racing at the thought of his meeting with his father, King Cold, and his brother, Cooler. You, his human partner, were by his side holding his arm to keep him at ease. You supported your partner through everything, even though his decisions weren't exactly morally correct. There was no denying that you were full of unwavering loyalty.
"Are you nervous for this?" you gently ask him.
"What?! Me?!" Frieza exclaimed. He rolled his eyes and sank his face into his palm. "Maybe... yes..."
Your ship approached the formidable fortress of King Cold and Cooler. You couldn't help but feel a sweep of nerves. Meeting your partner's family was no small matter and that's without considering their ruthless reputation and lust for power in the universe. Once you had landed, the doors of the fortress parted and revealed a grand chamber that was adorned with beautiful icy sculptures and glimmering crystal walls. At the far end of the room, King Cold sat upon his throne, his presence commanded your respect and fear, no matter who you were or what your relationship was. The tension hung thick in the frigid air as Frieza accompanied you towards his father. King Cold had his eyes fixed on you both, letting out a weary sigh, knowing all too well of the dynamic at play between his two sons.
"Frieza, my son." King Cold began his introduction with a hint of exasperation, drawing his attention to you next. "It's good to see you've found someone... unexpected... to have a courtship with."
You offered the king a polite smile while Frieza stood stiff beside you, bristling nervously at his father's tone. Entering the room with a very hearty chuckle was Cooler, the master of passive-aggressive remarks towards his younger brother, as expected making rather joking comments at Frieza's expense, "Yes, unexpected is one way to put it. I must say, Frieza, your taste in companions has always been... unique. Maybe they just love a spoiled little brat."
"Oh come now, Cooler." Frieza snapped in response
Your partner shot his brother a withering glare, but Cooler merely smirked in response as he relished in his brother's discomfort. Raising his hand to the tension, King Cold spoke up, "Enough! Cooler, let us focus on the matter at hand."
You decided to try and lighten the mood, giggling and speaking up as a way of diffusing the harrowing situation between the two brothers, "I must admit, I never imagined finding myself in the company of such illustrious, powerful beings. It's certainly... unexpected... I must say."
The King let out a hearty chuckle at your play on his words, his lip twitched in amusement, while Cooler's cocky smirk softened to a begrudging smile. Even Frieza couldn't help but crack a small smile at your wit.
As the meeting progressed, Cooler couldn't help but make the occasional snide remark at his brother's expense, causing irritation from Frieza and a chuckle from yourself. It felt like a competition between the two. King Cold, meanwhile, watched the proceedings with a mixture of amusement and resignation, knowing that despite their differences, he hadn't seen his sons act this positively in such a long time, they were bound by blood.
With that, you were welcomed into the icy embrace of Frieza's family, ready to prove that your love for him was as unyielding as the frozen depths of space itself.
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wardenparker · 5 months ago
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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 16
Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.
Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Tooth-decaying sweetness, talk of pregnancy/impregnation, fleeting mention of everyone's least favorite Pike cousin. Summary: A bridal shower, a night out, and an evening babysitting that all have surprises of their own. Notes: Happy pride month, Pedro Nation! We're edging closer to the end of this story at a brisk pace. Just a few more chapters before the epilogue 🧡✨
Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15
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"Birdie, stop." The stern but loving words are an order as Sydney places both of her hands on your shoulders and demonstrates a slow, steady breath for you for the second time today. "Amelia and Sean have the whole party under control. Your wedding planner has done an immaculate job planning this bridal shower and my sous chef knows this menu like the back of his hand." Her thumbs press gently into your bare shoulders, the edges of your Jackie Kennedy-esque pastel 60s shift dress not quite covering your shoulders and making you feel much cooler on this hot July afternoon. You're both wearing white gloves, completing the ensembles you've chosen, but at this moment you're much less worried about propriety than other things. "It's going to be fun, you just have to chill out."
"I know." The closer the wedding gets the more anxious you get about absolutely everything, and you take a deep breath because Sydney is completely right. You need it. "Is it dumb to wish Marcus was here? I'm so jealous that the guys are all at a Nationals game today."
“I’m jealous too, but I also know that Marcus and Juan would love nothing more than to be right here.” She reminds you with a grin. “Firmly inserted up our asses, which is where they like to stay.”
"Only because you told Juan you wanted to wait for another baby," you snort under your breath, shaking your head at your best friend. "I think I just want everybody here and for things to be underway. Bridal showers can be brutally boring and I just don't want today to be like that for anyone."
“I didn’t mean like that.” She huffs, rolling her eyes and grinning at you. “Do you honestly think your bridal shower is going to be boring?” She asks, stepping back and gesturing to your outfits. “We are dressed up as famous women that have made significant contributions to our society, we are having our now famous tea service, and we have booze.”
It's true to say that this is not anyone's average bridal shower. The Famous Women of History theme had gone over wonderfully with guests and the tea service now being run each and every weekend by the inn has been written up in multiple publications all over the country. Even if you only had those two things going for you, you would be miles ahead of other parties. You soften into a smile, bolstered by her confidence. "Your Julia Child costume is immaculate, by the way."
Sydney immediately adopts the characteristic accent that Julia was so well known for. “Of course!” She agrees, grinning. “Who would not want to be me?”
Accents have never been your forte, but you aim for something vaguely Transatlantic and fall comically short when you reply: “No one I can think of, darling.”
Sputtering out a laugh, she grabs your hand. “Come on Jackie.” She teases. “We’ve got a party to go to.”
The gallery hall that has been rented for the party is stunning. Paintings hang immaculately on the wall and a baby grand piano sits at the ready, while small table for four or six guests each dot the area facing a larger, longer table. The pastel color palette is perfect, welcoming without being babyish, and you soften a little to look around and see flower petals sprinkled artfully over each table, brightening up the place settings and name cards. “No centerpieces, so we have room for the tea towers,” you hum, checking out each table. “It’s perfect, Syd.”
“I thought you would like that, letting the food decorate.” She beams at the compliment but she is more excited to celebrate you.
“I absolutely love it.” Simple and classy, that’s what the decor is, and you give your best friend a squeezing hug as people start to arrive.
The group is a mixture of family and friends. Everyone from Marcus’s side comes out, with the exception of one, which no one misses Hannah here if they were pressed for an opinion. The mood is festive and despite the invitation saying presents aren’t necessary, no one comes empty handed.
Your own side of the invitation list is a tad smaller, but no less enthusiastic. The girls from game night are all dressed as famous authors, including Sydney’s sister AnnaLeigh as Mary Shelley with a big heart necklace, and Selena is wearing a Rockford Peaches uniform for all the women baseball players she idolized growing up. Even Sydney and AnnaLeigh’s mother has come in from Philadelphia, dressed as Marie Curie with glowing jewelry to bring in the ‘radiation’ aspect.
It’s a given fact that your mother will always arrive last to any gathering, but she makes a hell of a splash arriving in her Votes for Women sash and the costume that she has worn for every Halloween party for your entire life. "Alice Paul." You laugh when she comes over to give you a tight hug. "I almost thought you might go for something else but it has to be Alice Paul. But I see you've gotten a new hat. It's perfect."
“Of course.” She snorts, grinning at you. “How could it be anything else? Birdie, this looks amazing.” She gushes. “Your bridal shower is gorgeous.”
"We said no gifts," you laugh half-heartedly, seeing the boxes and bags and assorted packages on the table by the door to the gallery. "I mean we knew most people wouldn't listen, but really it's so sweet of everyone."
“Honey, people are so happy for you and Marcus.” Your mother reminds you with a soft smile and a hug around your waist. “I’m sure that they just want you to know how loved you are.”
"We're very lucky." That is the least of it, but of course you're very lucky. Having the love of your life is about the luckiest thing you could possibly ask for in the world. Today is the icing on the proverbial tea cake, as far as you're concerned. But it's wonderful to get to see all the ladies of your family. "If you like what's been set up, then you should make Amelia Sharma your official event planner," you tell your mother, before seeing your sister spinning around the room like a whirlwind. "I think Junie likes it, too."
She hums as she looks over at your younger sister. “Is she— Jane Goodall?” She frowns slightly as she tries to understand the costume that she is wearing.
"Of course she is." It doesn't surprise you one bit, and you offer your mother a cheeky grin. "Her childhood hero. I would expect nothing less of Junebug."
“There was a time that your sister insisted that we adopt a gorilla.” Your mother snorts. “So I don’t doubt that at all.”
"Do you know why she stopped asking?" The smirk on your face is unapologetic, but considering you were not more than eleven or twelve at the time your baby sister insisted on wanting a gorilla for a sibling, you think it was still a clever comeback. "I told her we already had Alex."
Your mother rolls her eyes and sighs. “That’s why?” She huffs. “You always liked to try to rock the boat.” It’s an affectionate chiding and she is grinning while she delivers the chastisement.
"It only took her her entire childhood to be able to have a pet," you tease back. "Are you even the least bit surprised she named the rescue puppy Koko?"
“Not in the least.” Your mother admits with a wistful smile. “Just like I know Koko will go with Junie when she moves out.”
“All three of your kids have their soulmates, Ma.” You nudge her affectionately, and the warm and proud smile on her face grows with the reminder. “You might have a quiet White House next term if we all end up settled down and domestic.”
“All I’ve ever wanted was for the three of you to find your happiness.” She takes your hand and squeezes it. “My dreams and goals have never been any of yours, your paths are different from mine.”
“And we appreciate the fact that you recognize that. More than you could possibly know.” It would be easy for her to be blind to it, after all. Or to find the three of you unambitious because you don’t have goals as lofty as hers. But a small business owner, a future lawyer, and a future veterinarian are nothing to sniff at. You squeeze her hand back and tilt your head toward the other side of the room. “Come on, Mom. I sat you with Donna and with Syd’s mother. The Mom Table.”
“The Mom Table.” She hums. “I appreciate that. Donna and I have fabulous conversations.”
“It’s such a relief that you guys get along.” Of any two mothers in the world, you know your own mother and your future mother-in-law feel very strongly about wanting the best for their kids, so you’re glad they agree on what the definition of best is.
“I couldn’t imagine a world where we didn’t get along, to be honest.” Your mother admits. “I have been giving serious thought to having Donna appointed to a member of my cabinet.”
After staring at her for a few seconds you just blow a raspberry and shrug, letting out a small laugh. “I honestly can’t even tell if you’re joking.”
She frowns for a moment. “Why would I be joking?” She asks. “I don’t think that she accept Surgeon General, since we have a fantastic doctor in that role, but I think that she would be amazing at guiding our country forward through the mental health crisis that is emerging.”
You gape slightly, mouth open, and shut it again twice more like a fish before trying to talk again. “So you’re going to create a government position for a mental health professional alongside the Surgeon General…and offer it to Donna Pike?”
“Mental health is linked to physical health.” She has been considering this a lot and it’s the first time she’s mentioned it outside of her private office. “I think a practicing therapist and doctorate of physiology would understand the shortcomings of our current healthcare system and help put protocols in place to improve our mental health as a nation.”
“In no way do you need to convince me of the ongoing mental healthcare crisis in this country. I see my therapist every two weeks like clockwork.” Stopping in your tracks, you level your mother with a serious expression. “I think it’s a fantastic idea. Regardless of whether or not you appoint Donna, mental health needs to be made a more important conversation.”
“Absolutely.” She nods. “Would you mind if I broached the subject with her? Nothing would interfere with your wedding, or any wedding related activities.”
"Not at all." She doesn't need your blessing but it's nice of her to ask for it. "Why don't you guys have a walk around the gallery after tea? Talk all you like."
“After the party.” She won’t take away from this time for anything in the world, but your approval was important to her.
"In that case?" When you reach the table you show her which seat is hers and gladly accept another hug. "She's going to be in town all week. I bet she'd love some sweet tea on the White House lawn."
“I’ll have to have her put on my schedule then.” She shoots you a wink and sits down so you can focus your attention to other guests. “Go, mingle.”
There are a whole lot of people to mingle with. That was part of the point, of course, and getting to see more of the Pike family for the first time since April is a welcome occasion. When you eventually get to sit down at your table, it's a sigh of relief to be with your closest friends.
Champagne is distributed, although this isn’t supposed to be a boozy event. It is however a historical nod towards gilded age. The sous chef that is in charge of the menu starts to have the staff bring out the tiered tea service trays.
"So." When the tray for the six of you goes in the middle of the table between you, Sydney, Selena, AnnaLeigh, June, and Issy, you narrow your eyes at all of them. "When do I get to actually know something about my bachelorette party?"
“Nope.” Selena pops back, a grin on her face as she takes a demure sip of her drink. “Just that you are going to love it.”
"A hint?" You beg, trying to look suitably pathetic for your friends. You know it will be great, whatever they have planned, and you do love surprises. But they have been remarkably good at keeping this under their hats. "Are we talking a day? A night? Travel? Doing something at home?"
“It’s going to be fun.” Junie supplies unhelpfully with a knowing smirk. She knows how much you want to know about this and it’s been a huge planning event for all of them. They even created a group chat without you to organize it.
"Seriously, guys?" Snorting at them as you all start to pick through the assortment of finger sandwiches on the bottom tier of the tower, you just shake your head. "Fine. But be prepared for me to ask a million and a half questions while I'm trying to outfit plan."
“We’ve already got your outfit planned.” Sydney tells you. “Don’t worry. We will be bringing it when we get you.”
"You're kidding me?" They have been extremely thorough – extremely thorough – it seems, and you huff at the lot of them playfully. "You guys really thought of everything, didn't you?"
“It’s our chance to make sure that all you do is show up and enjoy yourself.” Anna Leigh snorts. “Even your bridal shower had you planning things. And you can’t tell me you didn’t because that would be a lie.”
"I like to plan things," you remind her, even to the point where you automatically pick up the teapot from beside you and start pouring for your friends. "I might not be as good as Juan, but it's fun."
“But there are times where you deserve to be treated.” Selena adds. “Your bachelorette party is one of them. We do promise that no scandals will erupt from the night. No strippers have been hired.”
"We will be saving that for Junie, I'm sure." It's really just to get a reaction out of your little sister and her face wrinkles immediately.
“Eeeew, no.” She snorts. “The last thing I want is for some strange, naked man to rub on me.”
"Couldn't agree more, baby sis." You fill up her teacup and hand it back across the table. "Could not agree more."
“No, I don’t think any of us would want that.” Selena huffs. “I think you would be too busy thinking about my cousin, as gross as that is.” She teases playfully.
"I could completely freak you out if I wanted to." The silent confirmation of that fact is the necklace you've worn almost every day since Valentine's Day, and you unconsciously touch the heart-shaped charm where it lies just under the collar of your dress and under the string of pearls that goes with your costumes. "Get all lovey-dovey and thoroughly gross you out."
“Please don’t.” She grimaces and everyone at the table laughs. “I am related to him, and despite what Hannah thinks, I don’t sleep with my cousins.” She snorts. “Just because I’m from Texas doesn’t mean I’m into that kind of crap.”
"Nobody reasonable thinks you do." It really is sort of a blessing that Hannah Pike couldn't come to DC this weekend, being stuck on a mandatory business trip. Keeping the bridal shower drama free is important to everyone. "For a fully different topic, did everybody bring their song request for the wedding band if you have one? I promised I would send the list of requests in this week."
The topic on much nicer things, the party goes into full swing and Sydney makes sure to glance around at the tables to see the reactions of the tea service.
"I'm calling it." Issy says, halfway through the tea service when the savory tea towers around the room are switched out with sweet options. "You're going to have at least three people wanting to reserve tables for afternoon tea at the inn after this party. Maybe up to five."
“It would be good.” Sydney hums. “The tea service has been good for business. The restaurant is now full most of the day. And guests at the inn have even requested tea trays to their rooms.”
"We're pretty much booked solid through to the end of the year." Which is startling considering it's only July, but the inn has been packed. "Tea service reservations have been filling up, too. Which reminds me," you glance around the table after snagging a teacup full of lemon tiramisu. "When we get back from the honeymoon, I want to take all of you guys and Alex and David out for a night. To say thank you for how much help you've all been and show my gratitude. And no protests, I know you've all put immense money and time into these wedding events. I'm grateful."
"I heard something about a special pianist?" Not knowing a whole lot about the classical music scene despite enjoying it, you had just smiled and nodded when your mother mentioned it.
“Yes, I’m sure he will be here soon.” Sydney smiles as she looks around the room. “I wonder how it will sound in here, I’m sure it will be gorgeous.”
“Will I get called cheesy if I say it’s just as perfect as everything else has been?” Of course there have been hiccups along the way — most notably the night of the engagement party — but they’ve been handled and haven’t affected how lovely the road to your wedding has been. It’s been an absolute fairy tale.
“Of course you will.” Junie grins. “But that’s okay, because you are cheesy.”
“You’ll be cheesy too,” you assure your little sister. “In a couple of years when we’re doing all this for you.”
“I don’t want a big wedding.” She shrugs. “I appreciate you doing this so I can claim that it was too much.”
“Glad to do my duty as your big sister.” That has you raising your teacup in salute, a gesture echoed around the table. “But things with Dylan are good?” Junie and her soulmate have been together just as long as you and Marcus, but you’re grateful to see them moving much slower. There’s no need to rush at their age.
“They are wonderful.” Instantly her grin softens and her eyes take on the moony quality she is constantly teasing you about. “Really, really good. His parents like me, so that’s a plus. His mom cried when she met me, happy that her son had finally found his soulmate.”
“Good.” Junie’s been so happy this last year and more. It’s been bleeding into every aspect of her life and you swear even her GPA is up just by proxy of being in a better mood so she’s less grouchy about studying. “Just as long as nobody’s pressuring you guys about moving faster than you’re comfortable with.”
“No, I think that Dylan wants to move in together soon.” She admits with a grin. “And I don’t mind that.”
The table going silent and still for a long moment before breaking out into squeaks of glee, each woman reaching for Junie or hugging her from the side as she expresses the sweetness and happiness of that news in her own words. “Our little Junebug is growing up,” you huff softly, carefully wiping away a sentimental tear so as not to smudge your makeup. “Whatever you need, you have all of us and Alex and David and Marcus and Mom and Dad—” The length of the list makes you pause, and laugh softly. “You have so many people who love you, Junie. And we’ll be here to help you with anything you need.”
“I know.” She does know that her family loves her, her given and made families. It’s something that gives her comfort and joy in knowing that she doesn’t have to be alone. “But right now, we have a bride to celebrate and that is my big sister.” She tells you. “A woman I have looked up to my entire life.”
“Well gosh.” You exaggerate the word and wipe your hands down your face like Goofy blushing in a Disney cartoon. “I love you too, Junebug. Being your big sister is a privilege.”
“I know.” She quips, making everyone laugh and distracting you as a man in a suit walks in and quickly strides to the piano to sit down.
“I don’t think I could eat another bite but I want to.” Selena sighs, and you hum your agreement with teacup in hand. The food, as is the custom for anything coming out of Sydney’s kitchen, has been both endless and utterly delicious.
No one notices him, except your mother, until the first sound of a key strike from the piano is heard. Conversation stops and heads turn as the broad-shouldered man starts to play, his back to his audience.
You recognize the song immediately. La Vie en Rose is the song that you played for Marcus the night you confessed that you had feelings for him and it has been your song for the entirety of your relationship. It's even what you have planned for your first dance at your wedding. So to hear it now brings a tear to your eye even before you look up to watch whatever mysterious musician your mother has hired.
Except you know those broad shoulders. The haircut he got barely a week ago. The cut of that suit. The charcoal suit that he likes to wear with a blue shirt to offset the dark tone. But since when does Marcus play piano?
Another man enters the room, a violin on his shoulder as he starts to slowly join in the song as Marcus plays. His shoulders move as his fingers caress the keys and pull the song out of them that has become so special to him.
One by one, a full band strolls into the room with their instruments to join the tune, and all you can do is try to ebb the flow of tears welling up in your eyes. By the time the song swells, there are six more musicians in the room with Marcus, and you're suddenly convinced that all those golfing trips with your father have been a cover for the time he must have spent learning piano for this moment.
The song comes together beautifully. The building design is actually perfect to echo the harmonious stringed instruments. Making Marcus smile as he works through the song.
You aren’t really sure at what point during the song you pushed away from the table, open mouthed shock in your face but with so much love and gratitude in your heart for this man that a few tears have spilled over while he plays. This is true proof, at least to you, of how thoughtfulness between partners can make moments that last a lifetime.
Marcus feels you staring at him, making him wonder if you recognize that it's him. He smiles softly as the song slowly starts to wind down after an extended verse, one he had added himself.
The whole room is on their feet with applause, but your feet are on a wholly different mission — carrying you forward through the gallery to throw your arms around Marcus’s neck almost the second he’s stood up from the piano bench. There are tears, of course there are, but they’re such joyful ones that when you sniffle in his ear and chastise him for keeping such a secret, he knows you don’t mean it.
Marcus holds you close and when you pull back just the tiniest bit, he is pressing his lips to yours. “Sorry for crashing your party, but I wanted to give you your wedding present early.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you insist, not quite understanding what he means but over the moon that he’s here. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” He promises, admiring your outfit and reaching up and caressing your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Even more than I already was.” Kissing him again gets a soft Awwe! from your assembled friends and family and you fluster a little. “Are you staying for the rest?”
“I don’t want to take away from the festivities.” He winks at you. “Besides, I still have a game to go watch with the guys.”
A soft pout only makes him chuckle quietly, but it earns you another kiss so that will have to be enough for now. “Then I expect you to come pick me up so we can sort through all the shower gifts at home tonight. Deal?”
"I will be here." He promises with a small chuckle. "I want to see how adorably drunk you get while you are celebrating with your ladies."
“Just tipsy enough to be cute,” you promise him. But before he can wave to your friends and make his exit, you place one soft hand on his chest. “You changed the song,” you observe quietly, as though it has only just occurred to you.
He smiles, eyes lighting up as you recognize that the song was longer than it should have been. "I added a lyric." He admits. "You'll hear it," he promises as he takes your hand and bows slightly like a gentleman would as he kisses it. "It will be in my wedding vows to the most beautiful woman I know."
Rather than your usual self-deprecation or teasing Oh yeah? When do I get to meet her? you find it impossible to do anything but smile and moon at him with the most lovestruck expression on your face as he makes his exit.
"When did Marcus learn to play the piano?" Selena walks up to you, wide eyed and obviously impressed with the display and a little envious of the lengths that her cousin will go to in order to show you the depths of his love for you. She can only hope her own soulmate would be as equally devoted.
“My guess?” When you turn around to face Selena, she looks as dreamy as you feel. “The regular golfing trips with my dad have actually been piano lessons.”
"Oh...you think?" It's entirely plausible, especially because Marcus spends all his free time with you beyond the golfing trips. "That's probably the sweetest damn thing I've ever heard."
“That’s…” you sniffle, wiping away the last bit of sentimental water from your eye. “That’s Marcus.” Perfect, wonderful, sweet Marcus.
"You deserve everything wonderful." Your mother comes up, flanked by Donna. "Marcus wanted to surprise you and give you a...'grand gesture'?" She tilts her head curiously.
“Learning to play piano so he can play our song and write a new lyric for it definitely counts as a grand gesture.” If you’re smiling half as hard as you think you are, you must be beaming. “It’s…something I did for him. My grand gesture was when I told him I loved him for first time. This is his.”
It's very sweet and very on point for the two of you. Donna smiles softly. "Marcus must have love that. So often he is the one to give a grand gesture."
“That’s why I did it,” you admit, knowing that it makes you an incredibly sappy couple together. “Because he deserves just as much love as he gives.”
"You are perfect for him." She coos, making your mother smile and shake her head. "By the time the wedding comes around, you'll be asking for a fireworks airshow with the Blue Angels and the Marine Corp marching band." She teases.
“Oh gosh.” The sound of it is sweet and very grand, but you shake your head and laugh right along with both mothers. “I think that might be a bit much. Even for us.”
Everyone laughs and your mother smiles softly. "Well, how about we move on to your gifts?" She asks, turning towards the table that stacked with boxes and bags. "There's quite a few to go through."
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“There’s so many.” Unpacking the car with Marcus back at the house after the party is like unloading clowns from a Volkswagen Bug. “Didn’t we say that gifts weren’t necessary? We even listed a non-profit on the invitations for people to donate to instead.”
His eyes widen at the stack of gifts, and he chuckles, his hands on his hips as he determines the best way to attack the mound of boxes. "They love you. Or they just wanted to give you one hundred toasters." He glances back at you. "They aren't all toasters, are they?"
“Maybe,” you tease, looping your arm through the handles of all the gift bags on one half of the backseat. Just because you know what all the gifts are already doesn’t mean you’re going to spoil it for him. “I guess you’re just going to have to find out.”
"That's a lot of toasters." He huffs, shaking his head.
"Come on, baby." Leaning over, you smack a kiss to his cheek and grin, happy to be home. "Let's get this stuff inside and you can open everything while I enter who gave us what into a spreadsheet. I am not getting behind on thank you cards this early in the game."
Despite the fact that you no longer have to go up to the third floor or carry everything through the inn, it still takes several trips from the car to the house. "Did they buy out a Home Goods?" He grunts, finally bringing the last of the packages in.
"Two, I think." He's hauled everything into the living room, but you're in the kitchen grabbing drinks. "Do you want alcohol, caffeine, or to hydrate, babe?"
"I think we need to hydrate." His answer is slightly because of the heat, somewhat of how giggly you had been when you were picked up, and because it's too late for coffee.
"Two waters coming right up." You also grab your laptop from the kitchen table where you had left it this morning, and bring everything over to him on the big sectional sofa in the living room. "Where do you want to start, my love?"
"I honestly don't know." He huffs, "I guess we just go from one side of the room to the other?"
"Start with the thing closest to you, then." The spreadsheet is all made and ready to go, all you have to do is sit back and sip on your water as you enter data into it and Marcus marvels over the gifts that your friends and family decided would be perfect for your home. "The big box on your right is from your Aunt Clara."
"Okay, the big box." Marcus nods and moves towards it. "Have you already written down what everyone got us, or do you need to do that now?"
"Sydney did the typical bridesmaid with a notebook thing at the shower," you assure him. "Right now I'm just noting down if we have any specific reactions or ideas that I include in the thank you cards. Like 'Oh, Great-Aunt Martha, this electronic toaster is fantastic, we can't wait to make the fanciest grilled cheeses known to man.' Or whatever."
"Soooooo many toasters." He grunts, grinning at you before he opens the first box and finds the impressive looking espresso maker. "Huh...that's not going to toast bread, but I think I like it."
"It's definitely not." Giggling a little at how his eyebrows have raised, you tap the side of the box to draw his attention to the machine's advertised settings. "This is the model up from what we had on our registry. It's even fancier than what we picked out."
"Well damn Aunt Clara." He snorts, looking suitable impressed by the higher model machine. It will look good in the kitchen that currently sports a regular drip coffee pot. "We do have her sitting at a good table at the reception, right?"
"I think I have her at a table with David's parents because they're all scrapbook people." You glance up from your laptop and raise an eyebrow at him. "David's parents have already said they're making a scrapbook of the wedding, by the way."
"Interesting." He hums quietly, wondering if that will be something that you love or end up hating.
"However it ends up looking, it will be done with love." Pointing to the next bag to Marcus's right, you urge him on, trying to building momentum. "Next?"
He picks up at bag. "And who is this lovely gift from?" He asks, showcasing it playfully.
"That is from my baby sister." Scolding Junie had done no good, she just grinned at you and gleefully handed it over when it was time.
“Oh?” He hums as he opens it up and pulls out an organizer. “Ummmmm.”
“Flip it open,” you urge him, knowing that Junie put quite a lot of thought into the gift and he’ll like it once he realizes what he’s holding.
Once he opens it, he realizes what it is for. “Oh wow.” It’s an organizer, but it’s not for a single year. It’s for the two of you for your lifetime. Some pages are meant to be filled out separately, before your time together, but the majority is for you to record your major life events. Marriage, children, buying houses, moving. All organized into a beautiful leather binding that can be lovingly preserved for future generations.
“Our life together, between two covers.” Or, it will be, when you’re sitting together as old folks reminiscing as you fill the last pages. “Junie’s getting sentimental now that she has Dylan. It’s actually very sweet.”
“Dylan is showing her that emotional attachments are not just reserved for animals.” He has talked to the younger man several times and found him to be extreme nice and caring. That positive reinforcement has seemingly broken your younger sister out of her shell.
“Apparently they’re talking about moving in together.” It’s still a little unbelievable that you heard that out of your own sister’s mouth, but you absolutely couldn’t be happier for them Junie really does deserve the best and she’s been so happy since finding her soulmate.
"Oh yeah?" He looks both impressed and surprised. They are moving faster than he imagined, although it is still slow for some soulmates. "As long as they don't feel pressured."
“She said it was his idea and she seems so totally over the moon about it.” Flipping through the book together, there are some pages — engagement, moving in together, first house — that you can already fill out. “She thanked me for having the big public wedding so she doesn’t have to.”
That makes him laugh, a totally Junie thing to say since the younger sibling likes the spotlight even less that you do, although you handle it better. "I'm so glad we can help her out like that." He snorts. "I see Junie honestly doing a court house wedding with a small little family reception."
“I told both of my siblings when I bought the inn, that they just have to say the word and it’s their wedding site.” You shrug lightly and lean your head on Marcus’s shoulder. “I hope at least one of them takes me up on it, but we’ll see.”
"I think that it will be your brother." Marcus admits, shrugging slightly. "Whoever wants to use it, they will have a ton of help."
“Yes they will.” And it’s a comforting thought, considering how much work you now know a wedding to be. Marcus had tried to warn you, but you had been an enthusiastic new bride who dove in headfirst. Well, at least it’s been fun in addition to being a lot. “Want to open the next one?”
It takes forever to go through the stack of gifts, none of them were repeated surprisingly enough. It must have taken some behind the scenes coordination that you and Marcus weren't aware of. Maybe you should be considering everyone's love of surprises.
“If we recycle all this wrapping paper, we won’t have to buy more for a year.” Slumped back on the couch, both you and Marcus are boggled all over again by the amount of packages there were to open, but you made it.
“A year? Try three.” He jokes, shaking his head. “If you never knew how loved you are, you should know now.”
“This is for both of us,” you remind him, looking around at the piles of gifts you received today. Housewares, linens, gardening things, and decor amongst others.
"It's a bridal shower, not a groom's shower." He reminds you with a grin and drops a kiss on your nose. "You're loved, just admit it."
“I am loved.” That much you’ll agree to, dopey smile and all. “And I love you right back.”
He smirks and kisses your nose again. "Okay....we have our list, do you want to start messing with this stuff or tuck it away in that nice, empty storage room off the laundry room?"
“Why don’t we put each pile in the room where it belongs? It will be incentive to put it away.” You smirk at him and bop his nose with your finger. “Since you hate piles, it’ll bug you until we put everything away.”
"I feel like you are using that against me." He huffs, and shakes his head even as he starts to reach for the items to organize them for the rooms.
“Only in that it keeps me motivated too.” The pile for the kitchen is the largest so you move to that, first. “The fact that you’re happiest in a clean house makes me want to keep clean.”
“But if you’re tired, the dishes or laundry or whatever else can wait.” He promises. “Or I can do it my damned self if it’s bothering me that badly.”
“Oh, I’m not saying I feel pressured.” This stack is going to take several trips, you find rather immediately. The espresso maker is one trip in and of itself. “I’m saying you keep me honest, and I appreciate it.”
He chuckles and even though his hands are also full, he manages to shift everything to slap your ass as you pass by him. “Good to know.”
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“So where are we going?” June asks, though she and Dylan are following dutifully behind as the six of you — her and Dylan, you and Marcus, and Alex and David leave Friday night dinner together. David had invited the siblings and soulmates out someplace but she can’t remember where.
"It's a surprise." David throws her a cheeky grin and a wink. "It wouldn't be any fun if I told you were we were going."
"Well, whatever it is, he has the blessing of the Secret Service," you note, glancing around the group of six of you to see the three agents giving you all a wide birth as you walk out to your cars. "Or is that just because we have Marcus?"
"I would like to think I have a little pull." Marcus teases, tapping your hip as he guides you towards your car. "Maybe not as much as I give myself credit for. But Agent Bailey appreciates the security around the house."
"She also appreciates that you built her an office with a daybed," Alex points out, smirking a little as he leans into his soulmate's side.
"I figured it was the least we could do." Marcus huffs. "The house is completely secure and that way whoever is with us can catch a nap."
“Step up, little brother.” Teasing between the six of you is natural, but of course it’s heaviest between the three siblings. “When you move out of the White House, make sure you have an extra bedroom for your agent.”
Alex snorts and shakes his head. "I'm honestly hoping that by that time, I can opt out of agents."
“I have to be honest…” As you walk, you glance back at the lagging agents and back at your siblings. “I’m pretty sure Mom exaggerated the mandatory part of our protection detail to us. But a lot of people were mad about the first female President being elected and I get how she would want us protected.”
"Yeah, I know." Alex snorts, shooting you a grin. "I looked up the rules before the detail ever was assigned." He admits with a shrug. "It gives her peace of mind and it's one less thing she has to worry about while she's busy being the most important person in the U.S."
“Maybe we’ll ask her to ease up next term.” Junie theorizes, shrugging as the group of you reach your cars. “Maybe not. By then, Birdie and Marcus will have produced at least one or two First Grandbabies, so she might double down on them and let me and Alex off the hook.”
"No." Marcus shakes his head. "We aren't going to have agents follow the babies around. I don't even think that's allowed for a protection detail."
“He’s joking.” David assures him, nudging his soulmate toward the car with a dramatic roll of his eyes.
"Follow you?" Marcus asks Dave as he opens the passenger door for you. Agent Bailey had followed in her car since Marcus's car is a government vehicle with the appropriate plates. It gives you just a few more moments of privacy.
“Yup.” The younger man nods and then tilts his head to June and Dylan as well. “It’s not far. Be there in no time.”
As soon as Marcus climbs in beside you, he asks the question while he's buckling his seatbelt. "So where do you think we are going?" He asks. "It's odd, right? Going off after dinner like this?"
"It's a little weird," you admit, buckling in as Marcus pulls out of the White House driveway behind your brother and his soulmate. "But more like a callback than anything else. When we would have big family dinners back in Philly, sometimes we would all go out after and shoot the shit somewhere. Usually in somebody's backyard or we'd go out to the suburbs where we knew we could find a pond or something to sit and stargaze. Our parents never minded as long as we all stuck together and didn't do anything illegal."
He hums, wondering if Alex and David just want to have a moment with Alex's siblings and their soulmates. Maybe they wanted to plan something for your mom and dad's anniversary. He knows there's nothing malicious, so he just follows the car in front of him and snorts at the six car motorcade that is winding through the city.
The National Mall is largely deserted when your little parade arrives well after dark on this arbitrary August night. There are very few people around, and none at all at the base of the Washington Monument when David pulls his car to a stop and everyone else follows suit behind him.
"The Washington Monument?" Marcus puzzles as he puts the car into park and glances at you, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Interesting."
"Don't look at me," you shrug, but point out the windshield where David and Alex have climbed out of their car already. "This is it, though."
You and Marcus join and equally confused Junie and Dylan, unsure of what the plan is as David shuffles you all together and towards the monument.
"So..." Alex starts, looking around at the confused group of you with a grin. "You're probably wondering why we brought you out here at night instead of when the Monument is actually open, but I promise it makes sense."
“Marcus and Dylan are new to this." David acknowledges, looking at the other two men. The other two soulmates to the First Kids. His adopted brothers in arms in a way that no one else can ever quite understand. "But when we were growing up, we used to stargaze all the time. And a couple of weeks ago...the night after Birdie's bridal shower...we were sitting out here after dark and we got to talking."
Alex shuffles slightly and reaches for his soulmate's hand. "David and I have decided to come out, officially." He tells you, a small - but determined - smile on his face. He's nervous, of course he is, but he's also tired of denying his love for the boy he will spend the rest of his life with. It's not fair to either of them.
"Oh my god..." June breathes, lighting up just a split second before you squawk the same words in a much more exuberant, excited tone.
"Oh my god, oh my GOD!" Both sisters sprint forward to wrap their arms around Alex and David, squeaking and babbling and giggling in absolute glee. The thing that has made their brother unhappy the most consistently in his life is staying in the closet – and that time is finally ending.
Marcus and Dylan hang back, allowing the siblings to smother the couple in affection before moving in with hugs and handshakes of their own. "Congratulations on making that decision." Marcus murmurs, knowing that sometimes doing the right thing is the hardest thing. "We will be right there beside you, for anything you need."
"You guys have been dealing with plenty of media bullshit over the last year and a half." David shakes Marcus's hand gratefully. "Any advice you have would be appreciated and valued."
Marcus chuckles, knowing that is the absolute truth. "Anytime. I would be glad if you and Alex don't have to go through any of that bullshit."
"Whatever comes our way, we want to try to be the best examples we can be for other people who have been afraid to be themselves." For as long as David has been thinking about this, personally, he's grateful to be surrounded by so much support. "It's...it's a lot to think about. And to process. But I think we're finally ready."
"That is great." Marcus grins, loving how completely besotted you look at the two of them as you squeeze Alex again. You have worried about him, often sounding out those worries to Marcus and this has to be a relief for you.
"Oh god, are you crying?" Alex huffs at you, trying to diffuse his own emotional reaction by teasing you about yours. You're both wiping at your faces anyway so it's all even in the end. "Of course I am!" And you're not even sorry about it either, as you squeeze both of your brother's cheeks in your hands. "I'm so proud of you that I don't even know if I can think of an insult to temper it right now."
"I didn't think it would garner this dramatic of a reaction." David jokes, moving over to Alex and slightly pulling him away from you. "But since the tears have already started...." He grins and one hand flicks away the tears under his soulmate's eye and he sighs softly. "There's another reason why I brought you out here."
"Please tell me it's to teach my sister that tears are contagious," Alex jokes, not sensing the deep tonal shift that is rippling through the group, starting with David.
David laughs, once again struck by how perfect Alex is. His thumb rubs the back of his hand and he shakes his head. "No. Something more important than that." He reveals. He doesn't look around to make sure that no one is watching. The area is deserted and he knows that he would rather this moment be more about just pure love and joy than looking over his shoulder. He smiles as he shifts down to one knee in front of his soulmate. "I need to ask you a question."
"Oh my god." He might be the last of the three siblings to say the phrase in the last three minutes, but when Alex gasps his hand goes over his heart and he looks down at David in utter shock.
“We have know that we are soulmates for so long, long before I ever truly understood what the word meant.” David tells him. “You’ve been my best friend, my confidant, my shoulder to cry on, my very best and worst secret. But there’s never been a day that I haven’t loved you.” Reaching into his pocket, David pulls out a ring box and opens it to show Alex a beautiful wood and tungsten ring that has a single diamond in the center. “Will you marry me?”
The air is sucked out of the whole group as Alex works to compose himself. You and June clutch each other's hands as well as your soulmates', and Alex gulps at least four times in a silence that draws longer and longer the more he tries to hold back tears and try to think of the right thing to say. Finally he just bursts out a "YES" and lunges for David, wrapping his soulmate up in his arms and claiming a kiss as he shakes with the joy and surprise of the moment.
David laughs into the kiss, holding Alex close and his own tears of joy slip out. He had honestly had thoughts at times that they would never be here and even if their parents aren’t, he had wanted to share this with you and Junie. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He always has. Since before Alex knew what love meant, he knew he was completed irrevocably by this boy — this boy who has grown up into a thoughtful and keen-minded man that he is proud of and hated having to deny. “I love you.” He repeats, the tears streaking down his face as they stand up together, still clinging to each other and the moment.
Marcus’s phone is used to capture the moment discreetly, having figured out what it was and pulled it out quickly. He knows that they will want it later on.
You and June are jittery on an inhuman level, practically dancing in place as David slides the ring onto Alex’s finger and steps back. He’s all laughs as the three of you fling your arms around each other and cling to each other in another moment of shared joy.
“You’re next.” Alex warns Junie, practically beaming bright enough to light up the night. “Only one of us left now.”
“We’ll let you two wackos get it out of the way first,” she laughs, sniffling as she squeezes both of her big siblings. “We’re just apartment hunting. No rings yet.”
“Apartments lead to sex on every surface. Sex on every surface leads to babies.” Marcus teases, grinning broadly.
“And they can have their life and as many babies as they want without getting married,” you remind him, smirking up at your fiancé and grinning. He’s so close to being your husband. Just a few more weeks until the wedding. “If that’s what they want. Just like we want to get married, and so do Alex and David.”
“Of course they can. Notice I didn’t say anything about marriage.” He teases right back and pulls you close. “Although I’m desperate to be married to you.”
“Four weeks.” The hum in your voice is practically a pure as you lean up to nudge his nose with yours. “Just one little month left.”
“And we still don’t have a single clue about our stag parties.” He huffs, cutting his eyes over at your sister and brother with their respective soulmates. Everyone is apparently in on the secrecy for both parties. He had laughed when you had pouted about not knowing and then he had found out that Juan wouldn’t say a thing about his own party.
“And you’re just as frustrated as I am, even after teasing me.” You tilt your head back and leave a kiss on his cheek, grinning the whole time. “Whatever they have planned, they’re keeping State secrets like pros.”
“CIA level secrets.” Marcus snorts. “Your mom I understand, but I don’t get why it’s so secret.”
"They're having fun with it." And given your love of secrets, you honestly are too. You may jokingly call it torture to be left out of the loop, but it's all in good fun. The playful delight of having absolutely no idea what it expect is actually pretty fun.
“Yes they are.” He grins as he enjoys the sparkle in your eyes. “We will be finding out soon.”
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"The thing is, sweet Con..." you have a tendency to talk softly to your goddaughter when you're carrying her around, and babysitting is a time when you frequently have her strapped to your chest as you pick up around Sydney and Juan's house so they can come home to an even cleaner place. Sometimes – like today – you'll do a bit of cooking or baking too. There's muffins in the oven so that your best friends can have snacks or breakfast ready and waiting for them when they have crazy mornings with their almost-one-year-old. "The thing is, midterm elections are stickier than your hands after you play in applesauce. So things are going to get very interesting."
“Hey babe, I’m back.” Marcus opens the door and lifts the bag, the diapers secured. There had been a recall on the ones his goddaughter wore and when Syd had called you, he had immediately gone out to get some new ones. “We can change diapers again.”
"Yaaaaayyyy!" You cheer in the most hushed tone possible, waving Constance's little hand in the air. She'd curled her fingers around one of yours and held on tight. "Thank you, love."
“No problem.” He grins and winks at both you and the baby. Constance likes Marcus and giggles when he comes closer. “Is she ready for one, or still good?”
"She's still good for now. No bombs while you were out, thank goodness." With her hand around your finger, you make Constance wave and the baby giggles again. She really does love Marcus.
“That’s good.” He lifts up the second bag. “I also picked up dinner. I know you are baking, but I figured we deserved some take out.”
"Ooo, what kind of take out?" With the baby held tight to your chest, you rock her a little bit as you follow Marcus into the kitchen and try to get a peek at the bag, but there is not a single logo in sight beyond the diapers.
“Figured we would change it up this time.” He waggles his brows. “Thai. And Chinese. They had this new fusion place that I saw.”
"I like that even when we change it up, we stick to Asian." While he starts unloading the bags, you keep your movement going, dancing around the room with Constance to keep her laughing. It's almost naptime, which is perfect timing. "Did I tell you I had a nightmare the other night where I couldn't tolerant Indian food while I was pregnant? Woke up terrified and craving tandoori lamb chops. Very confusing way to wake up."
“Ohhh is that why you begged me to pick up Indian on the way home on Wednesday?” He tilts his head and chuckles. “That is your version of hell.”
"It really is. Having food aversions to highly spiced foods or to chocolate will make me utterly miserable when the time comes." Constance pauses in her laughter to yawn and you look down at her, wrapping both hands around the baby at your chest. "I saw that sweet girl. Is it nap time, honey?"
“She’s so damn good.” He can’t help but melt at the sleepy baby, “why don’t I put her to bed and you can go through the food?”
"Perfect." It takes a little maneuvering to hand her over to Marcus, but she goes relatively easily. After her parents, you and Marcus are two of her favorite people. as her godparents you've been a constant presence in her life, two of her most regular babysitters, and two of the first faces that she learned. "I'll grab plates and we can load them up in here?"
“That works.” She snuggles into his chest and he sighs. Almost willing to suggest that you go off your birth control now even though you are only three weeks away from your wedding. “Come on, sweet girl.” He coos. “Let’s get you down for that nap.”
Five or so minutes later, Marcus is back downstairs with the baby cam link pulled up on his phone and Constance happily set down in her crib with her current favorite stuffed animal – the panda bear that Sydney's sister gave her when she was born.
“Why do I think that Constance is such a good baby, that Juan and Sydney will be trying for a sibling soon?” Marcus asks, patting your thigh as you watch the monitor for a moment with the most poignant yearning in your eyes.
“Syd wanted to wait a year before they tried again.” After the trauma associated with the birth of her first, you were honestly surprised Sydney only wanted to wait one year. “We’re almost to that mark, so I guess it could happen any time now.”
“Yeah.” He hums, hoping that the next one goes so much smoother for your best friend. Although, if it’s like last time, Juan has already said that will be the last child they have. He won’t risk his wife’s health anymore and Marcus can completely understand that.
“Let’s make our plates.” As much as you could sit here and stare at the baby monitor all evening, food is good and relaxing with Marcus is even better.
“Sure baby.” Since you are baby sitting, Marcus had forgone picking up a bottle of wine. While neither one of you had a problem with having some normally, it was better to be sober while caring for the little one. He stands up and offers you his hand. “Then we will stuff ourselves and find something to talk about.” He teases, knowing that it’s going to be wedding or honeymoon related. Both of you are way too excited to talk about anything else right now.
“Oh that will be so difficult to do,” you tease, happily accepting his hand and winding your own into it. “We never ever have anything to talk about.”
“Nothing at all.” He jokes. “No plans, no dreams, nothing.” The walk to the kitchen only takes a moment and he appreciates that you laid everything out. “Thanks babe.”
“You picked it up, this is the least I could do.” It only takes a few minutes to fill your plates and then you’re sitting down together at the neat little kitchen table with Marcus’s phone between you to keep an eye on the baby monitor. “I got an e-mail from the inn in Inverness, by the way.” Alright, apparently it’s honeymoon talk. “A little welcome note from the owner and suggestions of things to do or places to eat while we’re in town.”
“Oh?” He loves how accommodating they have been and he knows you will be thrilled to stay in a Scottish inn. “That is incredibly thoughtful of them. Any ideas you didn’t already have?” He smirks. “I know you want to go to those Outlander stones.”
“I got a few good ideas for visiting filming locations,” you admit, grinning at him guiltlessly. “And some recommendations for places the locals actually eat at, instead of all the tourist traps that I’ve been finding online.”
He snorts, knowing you have been doing a deep dive on where to go and what to see. It won’t be disappointing at all. “I know you will enjoy that. Taking lots of notes for Sydney.”
“I’m under orders.” Solemn ones, to take pictures and notes about foods you both try and fall in love with while you’re on your honeymoon. “Which reminds me, our dinner reservation at Shish Mahal is all set.” The Glasgow restaurant where tikka masala was first served had been declared a mandatory stop on your trip around Scotland.
“I know you are excited about that.” He grins. “Although I want to try Scottish pub food too.”
“That’s why I was glad to get the recommendations from the innkeeper.” You tell him excitedly. “So you can have plenty of old school Scottish food to feed your heritage.”
He nods, happy you are so excited about the honeymoon. It’s going to be an adventure for both of you. Despite his time in Europe, he’s never been to Scotland and neither have you, so it will be something you can both enjoy together.
“Can I…talk to you about something?” You glance over at him from watching the baby monitor, food almost entirely forgotten — almost, it smells and tastes amazing so you’re not going to forget it entirely.
“Absolutely.” Marcus knows that it won’t be anything bad. It’s just something that has obviously been milling around in your brain until you were ready to talk about it. “Hit me.”
It doesn’t require a deep breath, or concern, or any kind of worry. It’s just a gentle smile that creeps across your face like sun rays from behind a cloud. “I don’t want to wait anymore to start trying for a baby. The only reason I wanted to wait earlier was because my dress was fitted already…and we’re so close to the wedding. A few weeks won’t matter even if we’re lucky enough to get pregnant the first try.”
The food is forgotten and Marcus almost forgets how to breathe. “Are you sure?” He knows you are, but he always likes to double check. “I know I’m ready whenever you are.”
“I’ve been ready,” you admit, tucking your hand into his to hold onto him tightly. “I just didn’t want to throw a monkey wrench in our wedding when we’ve put so much work into the day.”
“Baby, I would not have cared if you were about to pop, but I know what you mean.” He rushes forward to kiss you. “When can you make the appointment?”
“I’ll call first thing in the morning and see when they can fit me in.” Of course he’s just as excited as you are. You didn’t expect anything less. “Hopefully it won’t take long.”
“The appointment or getting you pregnant?” He asks, smirking slightly at the activities that involve getting you to that condition.
“Yes.” You tease right back, poking Marcus in the side as you both laugh.
He waggles his brows playfully. “So that breeding kink can come out to play?”
“Full throttle.” And you won’t complain about it one single bit.
“Yesssssss.” He pumps a fist playfully even though he’s only half kidding. Just the idea of it has caused some extremely good nights rolling around in bed together.
“I didn’t think you would mind that.” You lift his hand to your lips to kiss his knuckles and laugh again. “I’m excited, baby. And I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too.” Marcus promises softly. “And I’m going to love the day I call you Mrs. Pike almost as much as the day you tell me you are pregnant.” He smiles. “Our dreams are coming true Hummingbird.”
______
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errihaienx · 2 years ago
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Having a situationship with Osamu Miya was absolutely hilarious; his possessiveness towards you against his own twin never fails to make you crack up. It's been over 5 months of never-ending flirting and playful dates with him, and you're honestly wondering how things will turn out, especially since he's known to be inaccessible and completely out of touch with girls.
"You called for me?"
your gentle voice sent chills through his spine; you had an obvious affect on him that drove him insane. You were aware of this, not to deny that he has the same impact on you, which may be worse than what he is experiencing.
"Let's be together, for real"
Osamu, with a serious expression and a firm voice. So he's really asking you to be his girlfriend in this way?
You found this very hilarious, even though you had butterflies and had been waiting for him to ask this. The 5 months and 2 weeks had been amazing, and you're wanting for more.
"For real?," you asked playfully.
He leaned in and stroked your hair. His eyes were still pierced through yours, and his dashing attractiveness was out of this world, so incredible.
"Yeah, 'ya heard that right."
You smiled, knowing why he felt the need to label your relationship. You and Atsumu were chosen to represent your class in a school event, and the other twin, Osamu, was naturally disturbed.
You found the twins' dynamics fascinating, and your first impression of Osamu was very different from Atsumu's. 'Samu was more laid back, and he was a 'cool-quiet-guy' that many of the girls on the campus loved.
"Don't just look at me, pretty, what's yer answer? is it a yes or nah?" he asked again
Osamu begins to feel the pressure as he sounds desperate. He's never been envious of Atsumu. But the thought of you standing beside his twin, proudly representing your class, makes him sick to his stomach.
"It all depends on what you want to hear"
You decided to play him a little more, but you already knew what answer you'd give him when he asked. His reactions were unexpected, so you're curious to hear what he has to say.
"That ain't even a question, i wanna be yer bf so bad." Osamu replied with a frigid tone
His tensed up cold face was charming; he appears stiff but maintains his "cool" demeanor.
"Will I be able to kiss you if you were my boyfriend?" you asked, anticipating what he would say. attempting to get past his barriers.
That shattered his wall, and the 'cool-quiet-guy' has his ice completely shattered and melted off, his face reddening.
He was speechless as he couldn't say anything, so you waited for him. It took him a few seconds to say something.
"I didn't know ya wanted those, i could give it to ya now."
With just that, everything changed quickly, and you're now speechless. Who wouldn't, after all? But, unlike him, you were quick to get your voice out.
"You think you could?"
You prevented the urge to stutter, you can't! You can and should keep up with his cool demeanor; this was a piece of cake for you! Yes, but why are your hands trembling?
"Yeah, but firstly be my gf," he responded calmly.
You were a puzzle to him, so difficult to please and so difficult to win over. But he knows that everything will be worth it for you. You are magnificent. Finally giving up, you crossed your arms and stared at him.
"Fine, you'll be my boyfriend. You're probably doing this because my partner was Atsumu, but-"
"Bae, don't even mention the name of some insect now, I'm yer partner."
You laughed, and yes, Osamu 'the cooler Miya' is your only partner.
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this was just a random thought of mine while studying lol, hope you liked it! i love you guys so so so much!! please be safe everyone&lt;3<3
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isa-ghost · 7 months ago
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qPhil & Other Egg Headcanons
Happy birthday original eggos 😭💚🎉
Note: Although I made these bc the og eggs are birth today, I've done at least one hc for each egg! They're a bit limited bc they're based off what I've seen through 3 POVs + osmosis through liveblog, but I included them all nonetheless. :D
qPhil headcanons masterlist
He thinks Leo has so much fucking swag. How does a literal egg look so fucking cool like at all times. How does she do it.
Secretly admires the shit out of Dapper. He's fucking brilliant. Hilariously unhinged. Insanely devoted to his collection habits. Adorably takes after Bad in looks and silliness. He's just such a badass little guy.
Pomme his fucking beloved. Brilliant just like her siblings, insanely perceptive, tough as nails yet still soft as flower pedals. He sees huge survivalist potential in her. He wishes she could shed some of the stress she's always seems to be under. He relates to her a bit too much sometimes. He hopes that poor girl gets a break.
He's absolutely gutted he didn't get to know Trump like at all. He saw little to nothing of him. He hopes he's at peace with Maxo.
GOD he wish he got more time with Flippa. She took him out like it was nothing. He would've loved training her alongside her parents. He bets she would've been an awesome pvper one day.
He wishes he could've seen more of Tilin. He was more familiar with her than he was Trump but still not enough.
Richarlyson makes it so hard not to pick "favorite eggs" besides his own. Richas is always on some wild ass shit, Phil fucking loves it. That kid's just high on life at like all times. Unreasonably funny on top of it all. God does Phil worry about him though, he's gotten way too into risking his life for the lulz.
Ramon practically feels like a third child to him (sometimes). Much like Dapper, he loves how brilliant he is and how cracked at his craft he is.
Bobby's death absolutely devastated him. He loved that little shit. And he loved how happy he made Roier and Jaiden. Seeing how severely his death broke them made his heart ache. He had nightmares about going through the same thing.
He's DETERMINED to get to know Chunsik further. Timezones are a bitch though. :( But he will be damned if something happens before he can get more familiar.
Empanada is unreasonably cute to him, and he loves seeing her take more and more after Bagi every time he sees her once more. He absolutely loves how close she and all her moms are. He genuinely fears the Pancake Mafia tbh, and he's convinced Empanada is the head.
He adores Sunny. She knows what she wants. They're not afraid to speak their mind as long as they're comfortable. She's silly and playful and sweet. Yet they still have this small, but palpable cool edge to them. Truly one spunky little girl. 😎
Phil is like 90% sure Pepito is just always going thru it, but has a sneaking suspicion that's just how Pepito seems at first glance, and maybe thats just what Pepito WANTS people to think. Either way, Pepito is just such a Creacher and Phil loves it. An absolutely loveable little guy.
He on/off considers commissioning Ramon or Dapper to make bombs to go fuck up a Fed building. He'd let them join him tbh.
He's so insanely afraid of accidentally hurting the eggs, but he'd love to spar with them and teach them more pvp skills so they'd be even better at defending themselves. He's only comfortable doing so with his own eggs.
God, he wants more times where ALL the eggs are together. He loves watching them interact, he loves their dynamics with each other and the chaos that unfolds when they're all in one place.
Phil: I don't want to build things bc technically that's doing the Feds a favor by making the island cooler. So fuck them. // Also Phil: *would build an entire city for these goddamn eggs if it meant they were safe and happy*
Watching the eggs all just talk and be silly together is literally Phil's favorite thing about their existence. Just watching them silently communicate in their Egg Ways, slapping down signs and punching each other. There's something so special and funny about their nonverbal communication.
He will NEVER be able to look at certain objects or accessories without thinking of the kids now.
He secretly has doodles of what he thinks each kid would look like if they hatched into dragons.
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