#but he likes the honeydew too
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advisinghat56 · 6 months ago
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naomiknight-17 · 4 months ago
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Horrible lighting because the overhead light in here is dying but! Made French toast with bacon and fruit salad for dinner which was a very nice treat :)
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phosphoresccent · 2 months ago
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I would love if the Warden picks up Lalna/Barry as enemies but has zero issue with Xephos lmao
Those two getting sniped by a sonic scream while Xephos is petting a toucan or some shit
brry and lalna are kill on sight for some reason while xeph Is Friend!
the sculk thinks xeph should be part of it and is trying to gently coax him back to the fold so they can all be one big happy family again. the sculk thinks lalna would make Great warden material and wants his dead body Right Now. brry pissed it off by doing parkour in the caves and its just actually mad at him
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uneclipsing · 10 months ago
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behold! my son
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clovers-housetree · 5 months ago
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Activities for Regressors Without Caregivers! (or just fun regression activties!)
(Although you're always welcome here if you'd like any form of comfort anyway! ^w^)
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This one's kind of a long one, after the few tips I list, I've mentioned an app I use called Finch, which will be talked about below the cut.
Since that's the case, I'll put my little ending message here instead:
Knowing how to take care of yourself can take a lot of work and practice, but I believe it's worth the effort, because then you'll be a happier and healthier you! Especially if you can find ways to make it fun!
I'm more than happy to be here for you and offer my support in any way I can, anyhow! I'm proud of you for doing what you can, I know it can be very hard.
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I myself don't have a caregiver for when I regress, so most of the time I end up taking care of myself! Here are some fun activities and things I do when I regress to keep myself calm and happy! ^w^
Paci mentions/pics not long after the first section for those of you who'd rather not see 'em.
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♥ Arts and crafts! I absolutely LOVE coloring and making bracelets with beads, something not too complicated for little hands, but also something fun!
With coloring, you can buy coloring books, or draw something of your own to color in- even printing out a page you find online, coloring digitally, or tracing over something to color in could work! I prefer coloring more than drawing personally because I don't draw all the time, but I bet I could learn a little thing or two from the artists around here!
For bracelets (and other jewelry), strings can be hard to knot with little hands (at least they aren't those small, slippery clasps!!), but the beads shouldn't be too hard to handle if you're careful! Even just planning out patterns is fun!
Here are some My Little Pony bracelets I made, and the decorations I did for my pacis!
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♥ Making playlists! Dancing is fun, and a good way to get the zoomies out, but you can just make playlists for any occasion! I have playlists that help me pet-regress, songs with sounds I like, adventure playlists... (Well- a lot of these are still in progress, but- you get the point!)
I also love those playlist videos on YouTube! Animal Crossing, Super Mario Galaxy, Minecraft and music box music are typically my go-to to help me settle or just make for comfy background music! Here's one of my favorites, shadowatnoon has lovely Nintendo music mixes!
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♥ Playing with your plushies! You can take them on adventures, or make your own!
Like Toby, climbing The Great Pillow Mountain!
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(This is Toby by the way, he's one of my best friends and a VERY good hugger!)
You can play games with them, too! Toby's REALLY good at hide and seek... Maybe you can find him for me? :0
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♥ Finding shows to watch! I really like Paw Patrol and Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles at the moment. Plus, you can look at agere content and fics from shows you like! People make really cool stimboards and moodboards, for example, and I like reading through all the fun stories people write!
Here's a silly picture of Rocky I found! :3
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Finch
Finch is a self-care app where you take care of your very own little bird friend by taking care of yourself!
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You can set daily goals, or for each day (or more specific ones as well I think.). By completing these goals, you give your bird energy to go on adventures! They usually come back with a funny little story or silly questions, because they're learning, too!
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Through completing these goals (or daily, at least), you can get Rainbow Stones, which you can use to buy clothes for your bird, make them different colors, or give them furniture for their house!
They're also LGBTQ+ and disability-friendly!! :3
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This is my little bird, Honeydew! You're welcome to friend me as well if you'd like, my code is: Z3E2T7VRK6
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It's helped me learn a lot about taking care of myself and keeping track of my goals, and I get little rewards for it! I've used the app for several months now, and it's helped me out a lot!
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"Fluttershy protects this blog! SFW interaction only, please and thank you! ^w^"
"Wouldn't show a kid? Doesn't belong here!"
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luveline · 1 year ago
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JADEEE I'M THE ONE WHO REQUESTED SPENCER X BADASS READER (the one where they read a book together). I LOVE IT😭😭 may I share some request again? maybe it is a day off and one of the bau member saw reader and spencer spend their day off together like a couple?? maybe they bump into them at the alley of supermarket because reader and spencer is going to cook dinner together???
thank you for requesting gorgeous!! ♡ fem!reader
Derek supposes he shouldn't be shocked. He knows you and Spencer are making a go of going steady, knows you see each other outside of work, even knows you're sleeping at one another's places between cases (Here, you forgot your badge last night, Spence). 
It's hard to align his view of you with what he's seeing, is all. You're not spiteful, only stoic. Never cruel, but stern. And there you are on your knees by the cantaloupes tying Spencer's shoelace, mumbling something too quiet to hear. 
"Do you like honeydew?" Spencer asks, thumbing along your forehead gently. 
Derek's proud of him through the boggled haze. He always knew Spencer was a kind, loving man, and seeing him display that through small gestures has a brotherly pride swelling in his chest. 
You tap Spencer's ankle and climb to your feet. You keep some of your usual attitude even with Spencer, refusing his helping hand. "I like it if you like it." 
"That's not an answer." Spencer points to the dropping shelf of watermelon, their green stripes like shining emeralds, freshly misted. "We need one of these." 
"We don't need one. You just liked when I cut them up for us." 
"Yeah, I did. In Egypt they serve sliced watermelon with feta cheese." 
"Yeah?" you ask, reaching for a melon. You turn it around to examine the bottom, looking for a yellowed spot where the watermelon would've laid in the field. "That's a choice. Doesn't sound as nice as our chocolate fondue."  
"The first ever record of watermelons were in Egypt, so they'd know best." 
You smile at him with lips pressed together, your eyes soft with fondness. All the women in Derek's life are beauties, but he thinks love has made you prettier still. He isn't surprised when Spencer reaches out and strokes the back of your hand. 
"Hey, lovebirds," Derek croons. 
Your shoulders don't stiffen, exactly, but you lose the relaxed droop you'd acquired as you and Spencer both turn to face him. 
"Hey," Spencer says, "what are you doing here? I thought this place was too 'hokey-pokey' for you?" 
"Hey, their coupons never work. What are you guys up to? Plans tonight?" 
You withhold the typical None of your business, confessing, "Spencer and I are making breakfast for dinner." 
You have your secrets, but you don't hide Reid. It's why Derek doesn't mind the occasional snap or frosty smile; your coldness is a shield rather than a weapon. 
"And you guys eat watermelon and…" He peers into your shopping cart, miscellaneous items scattered throughout. "Massage oil?" 
You glare at him. "Don't get any ideas. It's for his knee."
Derek smirks. "Breakfast of champions." 
"We only just got here," Spencer explains your empty kart. 
"Yeah, well if what I just saw is the norm, we can expect you'll both be home sometime tomorrow morning. He'll talk your ear off if you let him, you know?" Derek asks you. 
Your glare softens. Derek might even say you're smiling at him. "I'd let him," you say. 
"He's a lucky guy," Derek says. He gives Spencer a clap on the shoulder. "I'll see you kids Monday." 
"See you, Morgan," Spencer says. 
Derek walks away, basket in hand and determined to grab a carton of eggs and get out of here, but he slows when he hears Spencer talking again. 
"Why do you act like you don't like him?"
You're too quiet for the untrained ear. Thankfully, Derek's highly trained. "I don't. Derek knows I like him. I just didn't want there to be any confusion."
"Confusion about what?" 
"About who I want." You say it simply. Derek can imagine the steam funnelling out of poor Spencer's ears. "You can be easily deterred, Spence. I wanted you to know I liked you." 
"I know now. You and Morgan would get along really well if you let him talk to you, you both care about–" 
"You?" you ask. "Let's go look for that weird miniature toast you wanted, or we really will be here all night." 
"It's not miniature toast, it's melba toast, and it's actually a kind of rusk–" His babbling fades out of range. Derek snorts and grabs a small carton of eggs. He knew you liked him. 
Not as much as you like Spencer, that's for sure.
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actually-safer-to-kiss · 1 year ago
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Girlfriend Interrupted
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Summary: Reader had a bad day at work and Spencer's complaints are not the best timing.
Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader
Category: Hurt/comfort
Content warnings: Mentions of food, hunger, and prolonged time without eating
Word count: 887
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The bus rumbles across the old asphalt and bricked crosswalks while hissing at stops. All you could do was lay your head against the window and try not to fall asleep or accidentally smash it into the glass after hitting a precarious pothole. You were three stops away from home and all you wanted to do was lock yourself in the apartment and gorge on the least healthy meal you could find. 
You had a healthy meal planned for lunch today actually; a salad filled to the nines (the nines being roasted chicken, nuts, pomegranate, and honeydew). It was perfect. So perfect in fact that someone stole it from the fridge when you were in the middle of beating a deadline. And even after being successful in that, your boss still found time to yell at you for something another co-worker did. You weren’t sure which one, but it wasn’t you. You’ve been nibbling on a granola bar on the ride, but your mind is occupied by the leftover lasagna in the fridge.
And you find it there, waiting for you under the stark refrigerator light. You yank it from the bottom shelf and don’t even consider looking at the microwave. You barely looked at the dishes you left in the sink after breakfast this morning and remember how behind you were when getting ready for work, telling yourself you’d put them in the dishwasher before Spencer got home. You did say you’d do that. And Spencer doesn’t like dishes in the sink.
 Instead, you grab the blanket from the back of the couch and settle in the dark, pulling up a YouTube video you’ve been meaning to watch. You rest your phone against the book spines Spencer had specifically picked out to be displayed for their guests (mainly your parents during the holidays and his co-workers). Most of them are about astronomy, nothing you’ve cared to pick up. They’re detailed enough to keep Spencer entertained and sturdy enough to keep your phone upright while you slurped up tomato sauce and ricotta cheese. And so you snuggled in like a kid watching Saturday cartoons, sugary cereal at the ready.
And it’s when you think of your boyfriend again that the door behind you opens with a creak. The thud of his cane echoes across the wood floor as that same door clicks as he shuts it. You manage to say “Hey, Spence” through your glorious mouthful of a rushed dinner. But Spencer says nothing back. He’s been struggling not just with his knee acting up again after his previous surgery, but with being unable to travel with his team. The thud of Spencer’s cane trails from the entryway to the kitchen. It was a tough day for both of you, no doubt.
Your sympathies started to wane though when Spencer interrupted your video.
“Ugh, Y/N. I told you I don’t like dishes in the sink.”
“I know.” You tried to say without a mouthful. “And I’m sorry. I was running late for work and needed to get going before—”
“And you left the fridge door open, too. We talked about needing to cut back before our lease renewal. The National Weather Service expects an uptick in accumulation by late December.”
You pause your video and turn in your seat. “Sorry, I was going to do it when I got home, but I needed to eat because someone stole—”
“And you’re eating the lasagna from the tray? We have clean bowls. You could easily grab one from—”
“Let me talk!” You ended up shouting. It was sudden for both of you. You’re never one to raise your voice and Spencer has never been one to fuck up bad enough to witness it. It forces Spencer to freeze in place, like that accumulation he talked about just rushed through the apartment on your command. It would be funny if it was some sort of command if you already weren’t teetering on the edge of tears. The sting in your nose already started traveling to your eyes. They welled up and Spencer quickly became a blur as you started to sob, the trials of a bad day finally getting to you. You let your chest heave and tears streak down your cheeks, hoping at least a portion of the stress will subside afterward.
You didn’t expect Spencer to be right next to you. You didn’t hear his cane once on the floor. It was against the arm of the couch. And he was on the floor, resting on his knees. Of course, you’re too distressed to point out that is the last thing he should be doing if he wants to avoid more surgery so badly. Plus he’s busy with taking the meal off of your lap. “Come here,” he tells you. He’s holding your hands. His hands are just as frigid as the lasagna. But he pulls you up as he tries to stand, meeting you on (somewhat) equal footing to bring you into a hug. It’s warm, obviously. All of his hugs are warm. He wears cotton-only cardigans and wears layers of clothes even at the peak of summer. “I’m sorry.” He says. “Just let it out. I’m here.”
“Spence. Your knee.”
“It’s fine.”
“You need to—”
“Be here. Which I am.” And he holds you tighter.
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yandere-wishes · 10 days ago
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⋆༺ One For The Money, Two For The Show ༻⋆
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⋆。‧˚ʚ Yandere!Harvey Dent x Housewife! Reader ɞ˚‧。⋆
⋆.𝄞 𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓋𝑒𝓎 𝒷𝓎 𝐻𝑒𝓇'𝓈 & 𝑀𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒟𝑜𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝓎 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒶 𝒟𝑒𝓁 𝑅𝑒𝓎𝄞˚.⋆
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Love does not eliminate flaws it accepts them.
⋆◐⋆ Thinking about Yandere! Harvey Dent who's always been a dreamer. Whose thoughts are always a bit too diluted with fantasies and fiction, with a rêve just out of his reach.
⋆◐⋆ Courtrooms or suburbia. He harbors both between his teeth letting the nectar trickle down his throat, choking on a perfection he knows he'll never be.
⋆◐⋆ Maybe he'd always been a bit too orthodox, a bit too romantic. That's what happens when you're raised on Americanna fairy tales. On folktales of princes riding white fords and finding their princess having Malts at the local soda fountain. That's what happens when you overdose on sitcoms and kitchen commercials. They make you dream of soft hands and even softer lips...
⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent who, even now, even after his disfigurement, after his fall from grace. Still dreams of having a perfect life. A sweet little wife to come home to. Someone to trail kisses over his bullet wounds, to hold both sides of his face. Someone to love like the sun loves the moon, someone who'll love him back.
⋆◐⋆ He watches "I Dream of Jeannie" and "Bewitched" in surfeit, intoxicated by the soft pink and green hues of domestic bliss. Childhood habits die hard but they always resurface screaming. He's sprawled out on the couch as Harv nags him to change to "The Addams Family" or at the very least "The Munsters". But it's the same thing, right? Two sides of the same coin. What Harvey wants Harv wants. This perfect little life, with a perfect little wife.
⋆◐⋆ Morticia, Jeannie, Lily, Samantha. What the hell is the difference? Harv's eyes follow the trajectory of the silver celestial spinning atop their head. Does it even matter what side it lands on if they want the same thing? They're both dreaming of opening a pristine door. Of being greeted by the thick aromas of spice and rice. To hear the melodic click of heels on tiled floors. Maybe they've always been desperate for comfort, chasing a fantasy he can never quite grasp.
⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent whose dreaming of a girl he knows, a pretty little girl from his past. A starry-eyed law student doing her internship at the DA's office. Or maybe a spunky little lady he took on as a henchman, a broken-hearted girl who rains bullets like stars and follows every decree of his coin, like a sacred oath. It doesn't really matter. So long as you're you, his ethereal little princess awaiting your two-faced prince to find you.
⋆◐⋆ In his dreams, you wear heels that chime on the carpeted floor. How he doesn't really know. You hand him a cup of tea when he walks in and a kiss that tastes like honeydew.
⋆◐⋆ Harv agrees, so maybe just maybe that's enough to satisfy the fantasy. To know that, if he's crazy, it's not only his half going insane.
⋆◐⋆ You'd be his perfect bride, and he'd love you with all his tattered heart. Plus he just knows you'd look better in the 1950's Dior dress and channel-cropped cardigan. Harv laughs he's more interested in the heels, designer, long, pointed. Relishing in the thought of their tips digging painfully into the back of his thigh.
⋆◐⋆ 'She'd look better inside the apartment, scurrying to the door when she hears us come in.' Harvey closes his eyes, the thought tastes utterly divine, rattling around his fractured head. Being wanted, being needed. It would feel nothing short of heavenly.
⋆◐⋆ 'You'd like that college boy I know you would, pretty little princess wrapping her frail arms around our neck. Kissing your cheek, my cheek. Our hands trailing up her hips-"
⋆◐⋆ Harvey shakes his head trying to get rid of the fantasy. He can't let such thoughts linger long, or else he'd spill blood just to have you between his arms. Sweet, cute, and frivolous, awaiting him to return to you once more.
⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent, whose coin lands on the scared side, but really deep down he knows it never mattered what side was destined to surface. He knew he was always meant to have you.
⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent who corners you when you're out alone one night. Who pushes stars between your lips tasting eden on your tongue, eager to choke on your sweetness. It's a proposal laced with desperation and obsession. A bloody candy gram screaming I love you.
⋆◐⋆ He's too high off of his delusions to notice how you struggle and squirm.
⋆◐⋆ He only fully registers the fear shimmering all so brightly in your big doe eyes, when the tears begin to fall. When he notices how desperately you try to pull your wrist from his grasp. It takes a moment to calm Harv down, to make him understand that you're reaction, while not ideal, is in fact normal.
⋆◐⋆ 'This is fine' he thinks, 'it just takes some getting used to'.
⋆◐⋆ Everything takes getting used to at first. Fingers trailing absentmindedly over the knuckles of his scarred hand.
⋆◐⋆ That night you cried yourself to sleep, as Harvey whispered saccharine little words into your ear. Kissing up and down your neck cooing and cuddling. As he drifted off into blissful sleep right next to your tortured form.
⋆◐⋆ Thinking of what happens when he's had his darling for a while. Does he coax her into the role of his perfect wife? Does she haphazardly stumble into it out of sheer boredom?
⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent waking up cold and lonely. Fingers stretching to your side desperate to feel the softness of your flesh. Instead, he's met with the neatly made comforter and the painful absence of you. When he breaths -shakey ragged- there's vanilla under his breath, sugar wafting through the dichromatic apartment. His heart skips a beat, you really are the greatest.
'We should warn her to stay in bed until we wake up!'
'Then who the hell is going to make your breakfast moron? Huh? Didn't think that far ahead did-'
'Oh just shut up it's too early for your yapping.'
⋆◐⋆ "Harvey!" you chirp melodious lithe of your voice ringing ceremoniously to greet him. You're dolled up already in that purple dress he likes with the white heels Harv always picks. You run up to greet him and the click of your heels along his kitchen floor has him seeing stars. You leave lipstick prints on both his cheeks. Run your nails over his bare chest. You're so close, he can feel you're pretty heartbeat through your ribs.
⋆◐⋆ Thinking about making breakfast for Yandere! Harvey. Turning on the TV and talking to him all so sweetly, you've been meaning to try a new cake recipe and you're wondering what flavor he prefers cherry or coconut or both? And there's a new Zorro movie playing in theaters you're wondering if he can take you after work tomorrow? He watches eyes blown wide as you bite down on your hotcake, fork between your plump lips, as you tilt your head. "You don't like it do you," you ask and the brittle nature of your voice has his heart shattering. "I do" he assures, they both do. They're just so surprised you're acting this nice, this loving, this...
⋆◐⋆ Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you look at him. Have you done something wrong? Is he mad at you? "Are you having another dissociation episode?" you're quick to rush to his side. You sit on his lap and run your fingers through his hair. Kissing his soft and scarred lips. Holding his face firmly. "We're fine" Harv assures, voice polluted with trepidation. Unconvinced you break off tiny bits of his hotcake and gently tap the fork on his lip. You feed him so tenderly, basking in the way his pretty eyes never leave your face. As his fingers play with your dress, pinching playfully at your hips.
⋆◐⋆ Thinking about seeing Yandere! Harvey Dent off at the door. He's got a gang to run, a city to protect and destroy all in the same breath. You're sure one day you'll look out the window and see Gotham going up in flames only to be remade under your lover's careful hand. You wish him a good day, moaning softly as he kisses and bites your shoulder. Both hands entwining with your fingers. "Some day I'll take you with me, have you give the orders and watch as everyone jumps to obey."
⋆◐⋆ Thinking about Yandere! Harvey Dent in his office. He runs most of his operations from his two-toned building. He's closer to you this way. Keeping you locked up in the penthouse. Even when he's ordering his thugs around, planning the next heist or crisis or perfect crime he can't get you out of his head. He swears he can still hear the click of your heels from six stories up.
⋆◐⋆ Maybe it's cause he hasn't been happy in far too long, they both haven't. This eccentric euphoria bubbling inside their chest feels too foreign, painful even. Melconay replaced with something so warm and sweet. Something he never thought he would have.
⋆◐⋆ Thinking about surprising Yandere! Harvey Dent with lunch in his office. He's busy interrogating one of Falcone's thugs. Locations or gangwars you don't really care. You wince as Harv fires a bullet at the man's chest. Blood marring the walls and floor, you're careful to stirr clear. When the rage wears off he finally sees you, really sees you. Harvey is shocked and Two-Face is about to start yelling at you for leaving the apartment without permission. But you simply skip over the bloody body and hand him his lunch, kissing tenderly up his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. He's too starstruck to notice the dead man pulling out a gun. Precouopied with running his tongue along your teeth, and molding your bones to his touch. He never notices the dead thing writhing for life, for revenge...Until you've pulled out one of his shooters and shelled the man point blank. Beaming up at him with that eternally cheerful smile. Wrapping your arms around his neck once more, and inching closer to his lips...
⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent waking up to the muffled sound of your sobs. And realizing it was all just a dream. You're curled up on the furthest end of the bed trying all so desperately to avoid him. He can faintly make out where you've thrown the new heels and the purple Dior dress he loved so much. Even after all this time you still haven't forgiven him for stealing you away. For locking you up and making you play into his little fantasies. Harvey rolls to his side trying to go back to bed, trying to tune out Harv's violent ramblings, trying to ignore the tear trickling down his cheek.
⋆◐⋆ He's happy, he's happy, he swears he's happy...
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🎀: @fancyfeathers @yandere-writer-momo @testification @yuckcuy @realifezompire @devils-blackrose @dollyocaccount @uphighinthe-skies @d3athmaskd1v1n3 @callsigncrash
Thank you guys so much for reader ~💋
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liv2post · 8 months ago
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Dungeon Bats
Animagus!Snape x Animagus!Professor!Reader Wordcount: ~1000 Summary: Severus Snape thinks the Muggle Studies professor is strange only to find out she is an animagus with an awfully familiar form.
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Read here or on ao3
The Muggle Studies professor was strange.
Hogwarts always had its fair share of odd characters occupying teaching positions. Even a ghost, evidently, was capable of teaching. But he couldn’t place what it was about you that made him so suspicious. 
You were human, not like Firenze or Professor Binns. You weren’t kooky like Hagrid or Professor Trelawney. Outwardly, you appeared perfectly normal. However, there were oddities if one looked closely.
You ate fruit. Lots of it. Every day at breakfast, instead of toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, things the other teachers would partake in, your breakfast consisted of fruit and only fruit, including a cup of pumpkin juice. Your plate appeared almost like a small pyramid, stacked with cubes of cantaloupe, pineapple, strawberries, honeydew, and grapes, leaving behind a pool of sweet juices when consumed. 
You also had a tendency to pop up and disappear seemingly out of nowhere. One time he went into your classroom to talk to you about moving a couple of detentions around only to find it empty, having swept his gaze around it. Just as he approached your office door to knock on it, you uttered a soft “hello” as you stood in the middle of the classroom, making him jump out of his skin. 
Furthermore, Filch had brought up to him once that he could hear some perplexing screeching noises echoing from random parts of the castle at night and even what sounded like right outside the windows. What was strange about it is he only brought them up the morning after you were scheduled to perform rounds.
This wasn’t to say he disliked you. Quite the opposite. Out of everyone in the castle, he’d say he preferred your company. Who he'd rather sit next to at Quidditch games? Probably you. Even though you were the Muggle Studies teacher, you had plenty of knowledge about Care for Magical Creatures and DADA. Potions weren’t your forte, but you’d happily let him ramble about the subject, even when he’d realize too late that he was rambling. 
“Why do you eat so much fruit?” he asked one day when you came into his classroom eating a sliced-up apple.
“Oh, uh, that’s just my animagus urges. Sorry, am I dripping juice on the ground again?”
He blinked dumbly at you. “You’re an animagus?”
You chuckled, “You didn’t know, Severus? I thought Minerva would’ve told you. Yes, I am an animagus.”
“What animal?” he asked. You smirked and set down the apple slices on a nearby table before shifting. Your robes moved with you, swishing up and shrinking until you took the form of a fruit bat. You flapped and swooped about the air in a few circles before landing on the flat surface of the table, using your talons and thumbs hooks to wriggle toward your sweet fruit.
“You’re a fruit bat,” he observed. You screeched at him in confirmation and began to gingerly gnaw on the flesh of the nearest apple slice. Severus remained quiet for a little, seemingly thinking to himself as his fingers flexed and his jaw clenched slightly. Much to your curiosity, he wordlessly set his wand down and took a deep breath. Within a flash, his robes swooped around him, and in his place was a fruit bat, just like you, but bigger. He flapped his wings just hard enough to get him onto the table as he landed with an audible thud. It was pretty much impossible for bats to take flight without launching from a tree or a high-up place.
[Woah! You’re a bat too? That’s awesome! Is that why students call you a “dungeon bat?”]
[Yes, I am an animagus whose form is also a bat, and no, that’s just a coincidence.]
[How come you’re so much bigger than me?]
[You don’t exactly tower over me, Y/N.]
From then on, the two of you would sometimes go on day flights if both of you had some free time. While both of you wished to fly at nights, you still needed time to sleep and perform your teaching duties during the day. However, your favorite times were when the both of you were scheduled to do rounds. Your classrooms were on opposite sides of the castle so it was almost like a game to use echolocation to find each other in the dark and meet up. It was a little fun considering the dungeons were almost maze-like. If the two of you were sure that no students were out and about, you’d ditch your duties, ascend up the Astronomy tower, and take off into the night sky, playfully chasing one another or showing off flying moves. 
Severus hardly used his form unless it was necessary. It’s not like one got to choose which animal they could shift into. Admittedly, he was a bit let down when he first shifted all those years ago, but with you he learned to embrace his batiness, though he still resisted such urges when it came to eating a castle’s worth of fruit. He liked flying, of course, but he found that he quite liked hanging upside down too, especially when he needed a break from grading or just wanted a change of scenery. Sometimes he’d come hang around your office when you were grading and vice versa.
Dumbledore came to visit his classroom one late afternoon to talk about a particularly unruly Slytherin, but could not find the potion master anywhere, not even in his office. It was rather dark, all the lamps extinguished and curtains drawn. What he did notice, however, was two wands haphazardly tossed onto the stone ground near Snape’s desk, one of which he recognized as your wand. Dumbledore craned his neck up towards the ceiling where an old chandelier hung and sure enough, hanging from one of the rungs was a large fruit bat, and swaddled in its wings being held close to its fur, a smaller fruit bat. The both of you were napping. The old wizard smiled at the sight and slowly receded back through the doorway, happy that Severus had finally found a little bat of his own.
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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago
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DRABBLE: YOU'RE NOT WEARING ANY PANTIES (18+) (ONE PIECE) (For Black!Fem!Readers)
Writer's Note: I was watching One Piece & came up with this. Please enjoy! -Jazz
Warnings: Reader is mentioned as having thick thighs and ass w/ brown labia
**********
LUFFY 
This man is downright confused. 
He doesn't even realize that you did this on purpose to get him riled up. Luffy was never the one to successfully be seduced though. You could stand naked in front of him and tell him to fuck you, and he’d still wouldn’t get it. When the man gets horny, it’s at the most random of times, like when you’re sunbathing with Name or reading a book. 
You figured you’d at least give it a shot though. It starts when you two are lounging in your bed in the girls’ cabins across the ship, chomping on some watermelon and honeydew as an afternoon snack. With your feet in his lap, you go to pluck the last piece of watermelon out of the bowl between you, but his whine of protest stops you. “What, Luffy?” you sigh. 
Luffy stares at you with big, pitiful eyes, begging you not to eat it. You do your best to keep your eyes on his instead of his toned upper torso and X-shaped scar that peaks beneath the flaps of his red vest. “Pleeeease, Y/N?” he whines. “It’s so good! I didn’t even eat that much!” 
You scoff, wondering if he’s serious. “Luffy, boy, you almost ate the entire bowl!” you argue. “I had to slap you on the head to stop you from eating everything!” You go to pop the watermelon into your mouth, but Luffy’s arm extending and slithering across the bed toward you stops you. 
“No, Luffy!” you protest, but you’re cut off with laughter as he begins tickling your side. The captain laughs at your torture, tickling you senselessly until you drop the watermelon on the ground.
By now, he isn’t paying attention to it though. He jumps on top of you, his fingers moving furiously across your sides and stomach much to your dismay. “L-Luffy, stop!” you gasp. “I-I can’t…b-breathe!” 
“Huh?” he teasingly asks. “Sorry, Y/N, but I can’t hear you over the sound of your laughter!” His hands then move down to tickle your legs, but he doesn’t count on accidentally flipping your sundress up to reveal your bare pussy to him. 
His fingers pause as he stares in confusion down below your stomach. You begin to grow hot with embarrassment, realizing what has happened, but also hopeful that this lighthearted moment shifts. For a minute, Luffy is completely silent and you can see the gears turning in that head. “Uh…Y/N?” he innocently questions. “Why aren't you wearing any underwear?” 
The room suddenly grows hot and heavy as you lay there on your back with your boyfriend staring down at your pussy. “Um,” you hum, “w-well–“ 
“Did you lose ‘em in the laundry room?” he interjects. “Did they end up in the sea? Why didn't you tell me? I would’ve gotten 'em for you!” 
“No, Luffy–“ 
“Or did you take ‘em off ‘cause it’s so hot today? Doesn’t that feel kinda weird? Or does it make you feel cool? Maybe I should try that too ‘cause sometimes I get–“ 
“Luffy!” you exclaim, stopping him short. “I didn’t take them off ‘cause of any of that.” He stares blankly at you, waiting for you to continue to explain the method to your madness. You clear your throat, feeling more embarrassed because of his cluelessness. “I did it to seduce you,” you softly reply.
Again, he just blinks at you. “You know,” you sigh, knowing damn well he doesn’t. “You have easy access to me now for…you know…play with me.” 
Then, finally, a lightbulb flickers in Luffy’s eyes. “Oh!” he giggles, realizing what you mean. “You mean for sex? I can fuck you without worrying about your panties now?” He practically yells this shit, by the way, which means anyone on the ship definitely heard. 
You facepalm yourself, groaning. “This was a bad idea,” you lament. Luffy is suddenly moving to hike your thighs over his shoulders, his entire demeanor changed. You squeak in surprise as he looks up at you from between your legs, a mischievous yet sexy look in his eyes. “You want me to fuck you, Y/N?” he hums. “All you had to do was tell your captain so.” 
When he finally eats your pussy and fucks you into the mattress for nearly an hour until you have four orgasms, leaving your body twitching and your pussy filled to the brim with his cum, you realize that maybe you should go without undies more often. 
ZORO 
To say he isn’t pleased isn’t enough to describe what Zoro is feeling. 
He knew something was off when he saw your asscheeks jumping a little too much when you walked around the ship today. He noticed immediately when you went into the kitchen to help Sanji with breakfast to which he eyed the blonde down for staring at you in your pretty little sundress. 
But then you bent over the counter a little too far, luckily without Sanji watching, to reach for a glass for your iced coffee. There, he saw it: a sliver of those bare cheeks that he dreams about smacking and lays on as pillows just because they’re so plump and pillowy soft. As the hem of your dress rose over your thighs, his eyes widened at your ass and the crevice of your thighs where your bare pussy lied in wait for him. 
When you finally got your glass, you peeked over your shoulder at him, your eyes meeting his. And then you laughed. You laughed. It was small, light, and sexy, but just as wicked. Zoro gripped his fork so tight that he nearly snapped it. ‘Oh, this little brat,’ he thought. You were gonna get it later. 
So when he finds you reading a book and lounging in the sun moments later while the crew is doing their own thing, he wastes no time discussing these important matters with you. He stands in front of your view of the sun, becoming a big, hunky eclipse. You stare up at him from behind your sunglasses. “Yes?” you ask innocently as if you’re not wearing panties under your dress right now. 
“You wanna tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing?” he asks, his voice barely above a growl. You stare up at him, confused. “Uh...reading and sunbathing?” you suggest as an answer. You offer your book to him, showing him. 
You don’t expect him to pluck the book from your hand and toss it to the side. “Not that,” he impatiently replies. “I mean the fact that you’re goin’ commando today.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Zo,” you lightly laugh. But he sees the playfulness in your smile. You’re trying to tease him to get what you want. 
Lucky for you, he’s on your type of time today and is more than happy to give it to you. 
That’s when you find yourself in his room, bent over his bed and his thick cock stuffed deep in your wet pussy that he is quickly turning into a gushy mess with how fast and hard he is fucking you. With every slap of his balls against your clit, his hands grip your hips and your voice rings out in moans against his bedroom walls. “Z-Zoro!” you whine, your face in his pillow. “Slow down or I’m gonna cum too quick!” 
He feels you squirming about, but holds you firmly by your hips, even giving you a sharp spank on your jiggly ass. “Nah, baby,” he hoarsely says. “Stop runnin’ from me. You begged for this shit, and now you’re gonna take it, you little brat.” 
He leans over to press a chaste kiss to your ear, making you pitifully whine into his pillow as your ass bounces off of his cock. “I’m curious though,” he whispers. What made you suddenly decide to flash your pussy for all of our crew members today, huh?” His hand moves to roughly grip your ass, toying with the soft flesh. “I know you know I noticed,” he growls. “What, you want Sanji and Brooke to get an eyeful of what’s mine, huh?” 
With no answer, he spanks you again, drawing a whine out of you. “Huh?” he bellows, his voice bouncing off of his bedroom walls. 
“No!” you sob, gripping the sheets beneath you. “No, Zorro, I promise I’m yours! I-I just wanted to tease you! I’m sorry!” The rest of your words turn into whines and sobs of pleasure as he continues to fuck you sore, plunging his cock deep into your pussy until you’re screaming for release. 
Guess you got what you wanted, right? 
SANJI 
Sanji is BIG HORNY. Don't even try to play with him like that. 
It is just a simple morning that turns into something else entirely when you wake at the crack of dawn to find your bed empty. The spot where your boyfriend once was laying is still warm, meaning he hasn’t been away all that long. 
You get up and put on an halter aquamarine-blue dress that is shows off the curve of your back and stops at the tops of your thighs, giving just a little peek of the bottom of your ass. It’s one of Sanji’s favorites. Anytime you wear it, he either has a major nosebleed or gives you a blush-worthy compliment and then has a major nosebleed. It also gives him the perfect access to your panties…only this time, you leave them in your drawer. 
With a smirk playing on your lips, you walk out of the girls’ cabin to the ship’s kitchen where you find your man and the crew’s chef cooking up some breakfast. He hums a tune as a cigarette dangles from his lips as his hands multitask between cracking an egg with one hand and flipping over some bacon in a pan with the other. Sanji has always been great with his hands. You should know––he’s used them on you many, many times. 
You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his toned body. “Good morning,” you softly say, ruining his concentration in the best possible way. He looks over his shoulder, smiling down at you. “Good morning, my love,” he coos, taking his cig out to press a kiss to your forehead. “Did I wake you, baby?” 
You lean against the counter, admiring his biceps, veiny hands, and his toned body beneath his apron and wrinkled shirt that he hastily tossed on earlier. You want him. Now. “You know I can’t sleep without you near me,” you reply, your voice airy and soft. 
Sanji doesn’t quite catch on to your tone, but presses a hand to his heart, touched at your sweetness. "Aren't you just the sweetest thing ever?” he tuts. “Well, I’ll make sure to make up for leaving your bed with an amazing breakfast from yours truly! Here, pass me the blueberries so I can make this pancake batter.” 
You turn around, looking at the carton of blueberries. “These here?” you ask. 
“Yeah, right–“ Sanji’s sentence takes an abrupt pause when you suddenly lean over the counter next to him to get the blueberries. As you do, your dress rides up, giving him an eyeful of your luscious, bare ass. You smirk at his silence, realizing that your plan to seduce him worked…as usual. It doesn’t take much to make Sanji incredibly horny. You could simply smile at him and he’s ready to eat your pussy for days. 
You turn around to face him, your dress dropping back down against your hips. “Here you go, honey,” you coo, passing him the carton. He takes it from you, eyes wide and mouth parted, his cigarette falling to the floor at his feet. You giggle, teasingly toying with the hem of your dress. “What’s the matter, honey?” you tease. “You like this?” 
Sanji’s eyes follow your hands and the hem of your dress that continues to lift up, showing him a little of your skin each time. “Uh-huh,” he dumbly answers. 
“You know, we’ve got some time until the others wake up,” you purr. “And you’ve got easier access now.” You lift your dress up the rest of the way, revealing your naked pussy to him. “Wanna take advantage?” you ask, a sexy glint in your eye. 
You swear that Sanji has never had a more violent nosebleed. That shit gushes everywhere, but luckily not on the food or on you. It drips all over his clothes, his pretty apron, and the floor below, making you squeak in shock as you jump onto a chair to avoid getting wet. When poor Luffy and Usopp enter the kitchen seconds later, they slip and slide all over the blood, knocking into each other and falling out on the floor. 
It’s hilariously embarrassing on Sanji’s part, especially when you help him mop up the floor. But you think it’s flattering that your boyfriend finds you so attractive. 
He shows you just how much hours later when the crew is eating breakfast in the other room while he has you bent over the counter and his cock stroking the walls of your pussy, nice and slow. “You’re so sexy, baby,” he groans, your soft moans filling the kitchen. “I don’t deserve you. You know that, right?” 
The only answer you can give him is clenching around his thick, curved cock and creaming all over it minutes later. 
USOPP 
Usopp is truly a special case.
You think you just about killed him when he realizes you’re completely naked under your skirt. 
You’re just fooling around in his tinkering room under the ship’s floors, dancing to his playlist that he has set specifically for his tinkering and inventing process. You twirl around in your flowery mini skirt and white crop top while your man crouches over a table, focusing on working a gear into some new contraption he’s working on. 
You hear him sigh from his post, exhaustedly so. “Y/N?” he asks. You twirl towards him, your eyes trailing along his back muscles flexing under his white white beater and brown skin tanned even more from the sun. “Hm?" you hum, still swaying to the music. 
“If you’re not gonna help me, what are you doing down here?” he asks, but not unkindly. Kind of in that way where you’re fed up with your lover’s antics, but you secretly love them. “Just to dance to my music?” 
“It’s not my fault you’ve got excellent music taste,” you giggle, moving towards him. You wrap his arms around him from the back, pressing a kiss to his broad shoulder. “C’mon, dance with me.” He groans in protest, his hands covering yours. “You know I don’t dance, sweetheart, especially when I’m in my zone.” 
You cluck your tongue indifferently. “You’ve been in your zone for hours now!” you argue. “Just to one song.” You begin to sway, forcing him to sway with you. You lay your hands flat against the hard planes of his chest, feeling his heart beating against your fingertips.
“Pwease?” you plea, making your voice soft and high-pitched. Usopp once again groans, but sways with you anyway, moving away from the table to turn his entire attention on you. You release him, allowing him to turn around and face you, a smile playing on his pink lips that you just love to kiss. 
You take his hands into yours and begin moving your feet anywhere the beat takes you, leading him towards you and back again. He begins to laugh along with you, moving his feet in his boots and his legs in those baggy, yellow overalls that you’re itching to get off. There’s just something about him being down here, so completely in his element with his skin glinting in sweat and motor oil streaks on his face. 
He surprises you by suddenly taking your hand and twirling you around, making your skirt billow around you. You giggle as you spin and come to a halt with your back to his front. You lean your head back into his chest, humming appreciatively at the feeling of his rough, calloused hands gliding down your sides to your hips and accidentally slipping under your skirt. “Oh, sorry!” he gasps. "Your skirt was still up and…” His sentence takes a pause, making you smile. 
“Everything okay, Usie?” you ask, using the pet name you gave him on him. You turn around to face him, finding him gaping down at your skirt. “Uh,” he breathes. “W-Wha…why…why aren’t you…underwear?” 
You nearly laugh at his stutters and gobsmacked expression. “You like it?” you giggle, toying with your skirt. “I figured it’d get you away from your tinkering for a minute.” 
You lift your skirt up, revealing your bare pussy and tan lines from the sun to him. His brown eyes nearly bug out of his skull at the erotic sight. The man is totally frozen, barely moving a muscle…except for the one down under which has begun to make its appearance, protruding from beneath his pants. 
“So you wanna take a break with me, Usie?” you purr, smirking up at him. You press a hand to his chest to feel him up, but as you do, Usopp teeters backwards and falls flat onto his back. “Usopp?!” you shriek, alarmed. You crouch down beside him immediately, checking for any damage. “Are you alright?” 
Usopp stares up at you, his eyes wide like he just saw the entire Grand Blue beneath your skirt. “Y-Yes,” he croaks out. “To the break, not if I’m alright.” You sigh in relief, shaking your head at your idiot boyfriend. 
But he makes up for it by fucking you silly against his tinkering table minutes later and making you cum all over his thick cock. 
SHANKS 
“You wanna get fucked?” 
That’s the question Shanks asks you when his hand slides a little too far down your backside and finds that your skin is completely smooth. Too smooth. Usually, he’d feel the rough edges of your lace panties or a thong if you’re feeling frisky. But tonight, there is nothing. 
He should’ve known something was up. When he was walking behind you tonight to go to the bar with the crew. Your ass was jumping way too much! Not that he minded because his crew and every other male in here knew better than to look at you in such a way, but he couldn’t pop a hard-on in front of his crew mates. It was quite embarrassing. 
And now you have the gall to act like you have no idea what he’s talking about. “What, boy?” you snort, shoving at his chest. “C’mon, we’re not even back at the ship or at a hotel.” 
You go to scoot over, but the booth you're sitting in only allows you to go so far. Shanks is sitting with you thigh to thigh, hip to hip, with one arm slung around the back of the booth. Something about being protective of you. Though you like it, him being so close is starting to make you hot combined with the alcohol traveling through your body. 
Like clockwork, Shanks follows you, scooting even closer to you and not allowing you any kind of personal space. You can see that he is tipsy, his cheeks and ears flushed pink and a hooded look in his eyes. “Shit, baby,” he chuckles, “all you had to do was say that. We can leave right now and go to a bed ’n breakfast right down the way.” His hand moves from your back to your knee, squeezing it. “You didn’t have to go commando tonight, though I appreciate the gesture.” 
His hand begins to scoot up to your thigh, squeezing the thick, juicy flesh there. You can feel your body temperature rising as his hand gets dangerously close to your pussy as he sneaks it underneath your skirt. “So what made you wanna lose the panties tonight, baby doll?” he whispers, his lips at your ear. He smells of whiskey and mint gum––a combo you have come to love. 
The sound of a bottle shattering and a roar of laughter makes you realize that you’re still in public. “S-Shanks,” you stutter, gulping. You go to move his hand, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. 
“Uh-uh, baby,” he tuts. “Can’t decide you don’t want it now. You’re the one who came off the ship without your undies.” Your breath hitches as he releases your hand and goes back to scoot his up your skirt until his fingers begin sneaking between your thick thighs. “Tell me, baby doll: what was your plan tonight? To make me so hard that I bend you over this table and fuck you in front of all of the nice folks at this bar?” 
His naughty question and raspy voice in your ear makes you pathetically whimper. You then feel his fingers begin to play with your pussy lips, making you bite your lip. His other hand moves to the back of your neck to tug lightly on your hair, drawing a moan out of you. “I need an answer,” he growls. “Or I’ll make you cum right here. Don’t try me.” 
Through quivering lips and hitched breaths, you answer him. “N-No,” you whimper. “I just felt sexy tonight and I wanted to tease you.” You have to clench your teeth to avoid moaning as he begins to play with your clit, coaxing your legs open a bit to watch his fingers toy with the brown hood. 
“Well, little lady,” he chuckles, “consider me teased.” He leans in and presses a rough, whiskey-soaked kiss to your quivering lips before pulling away. “So now let me give you what you’re after.” 
That’s how you find yourself up against the wall of a bathroom stall in the bar with Shanks’ hips furiously thrusting as he pounds his cock deep into your needy, wet pussy, giving you no choice but to clench around him. Your legs are wrapped around him, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other is running through his red hair, your moans ringing out above the bar’s ruckus. 
“This is what you wanted, right?” he huffs into your ear. “You wanted to be my little slut tonight?” He fucks you harder, faster, getting you both closer and closer to your explosive orgasm of the night. “Cum for me,” he demands. “Be a good girl and cum around your captain’s cock, baby doll.” 
And you do. You don’t have a choice but to do so. And when he finally cums deep inside of you, he makes sure you give you enough so it’s dripping down your thighs when you walk out of the bathroom minutes later, Shanks laughing while you’re an embarrassed, fucked-out mess. 
ACE
“Girl, don’t play with me,” he firmly says. “I mean it.” 
You blink at him, confused for a moment. all you're doing is sitting cross-legged next to him, sipping on your cocktail, looking cute and absolutely scrumptious in your yellow mini-dress that brings out the color of your skin and the deep brown of your eyes. Ace has been telling you that you look like the prettiest sun he's ever seen ever since you stepped out to join him at the club. 
“What?” you ask. “All I’m doing is sitting here.” Ace eyes you from beneath his hat, his eyes trailing down to your thighs. “Yeah, without somethin’ underneath,” he replies. Your heartbeat jumps when you realize he’s caught on. “What?” he chuckles. “You think I wouldn’t notice when I can see that ass?” 
And he can. From his angle, he has a clear view of your bottom cheeks as you sit with your legs crossed. “Maybe I was just hot,” you argue, holding back a playful smile. “There has been a heatwave for a couple of days. Plus, it makes me cooler.” 
“Cooler, hm?” Ace scoots closer to you, his hand sliding up your bare thigh. “Don’t get too cool now, darlin’,” he whispers in your ear, his voice sending shivers up and down your spine. “I need you hot and bothered for this next part.” 
That’s when his hand begins to slide between your thighs, coaxing them open to reveal a sliver of your shaved, bare pussy to him. “Fuck,” he hisses, ogling at your sex. His reaction makes you flush, the idea of doing something so naughty in such a public place enticing you so. “So now what?” you purr. “You just gonna stare at it? As flattered as I am, I– oh, fuck!” 
A gasp escapes you as you feel your boyfriend’s fingers begin to toy with your pussy, his thumb gently rubbing your clit. Right there in the club booth! “Hm, you’re already wet for me, mama,” he appreciatively hums, watching your face intently for your reactions. “Were you this wet when you were changing earlier, thinkin’ about me doin’ this?” 
“Ace,” you whisper, your eyes leaving his to assess the club. Luckily, everyone is too busy dancing and drinking to notice your boyfriend playing with your pussy, but the idea that someone could see turns you on even more. “Don’t be shy,” he chuckles, an evil glint in his eye. “You can let that voice out more. The music is loud enough.” 
He begins to press his finger very lightly against your entrance and you’d just about cry out in pleasure if it wasn’t for his little brother dancing up to them to the reggaeton beat playing from the speakers above. “What are you guys sittin’ down for?!” Luffy yells, drunk with his hat tipped sideways and those hips moving. “C’mon and dance with me! The music is great!”
You try to move away from Ace, but his finger sinking into your pussy stops you. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning as he begins to slowly and torturously finger fuck your cunt, gliding against the underside of your clit as he does so. “Oh, we’ll be there,” Ace reassures his brother with a smile. “Right, Y/N? You love this type of music.” 
You can barely breathe, let alone speak. Fortunately, Luffy is dancing away to join his crew on the floor, leaving you and Ace alone. You turn to him, glaring daggers at him. “I fucking hate you,” you growl. 
Ace chuckles as he starts to thumb your clit, emitting soft moans from your lips. “I love you too, mama,” he coos, kissing your neck. “I’ll treat you to a dance after I make you cum, m’kay?” 
And he does both: he makes you cum on his fingers right under the table and buys you a pretty drink to go with a pretty girl like you. 
LAW 
He is befuddled. Confused. And completely alarmed. 
Because why the fuck are you just walking around his ship with no panties on? He realizes this when you first come sauntering into his bed chambers one night and sit in his lap. He’s at his desk, looking over a map and circling some hotspots to stop at for food and supplies. “Hey,” you coo, wrapping your arms around his thick neck. 
“Shouldn’t you be sleep?” he grumbles, doing his best to not admire you in your pink mini dress with the flowers printed on it and how the hem stops at your thighs. “We pull into port come dawn.” 
You hum in acknowledgement. “I know, but you’ve been sitting here almost all day. And plus, I need you in order to sleep.” You lean in to kiss along his thick neck and shoulders, cooing softly as you do. The scent of your perfume and your soft voice in his ear are enough to make him bust, but alas, he has work to do. “Well, try,” he deadpans, giving your thigh a pinch. “Now c’mon, I have work to do. I’ll be there in a bit.” 
You whine in protest, wiggling around in his lap and causing his cock to stir. “But you said that an hour ago!” you argue with a pout of your soft, glossy lips. “Come on, Law, snuggle with me!” But when he gives you one of those stern looks, you sigh and scoot off of his lap to sit on his bed, pouty and mad. 
He’s supposed to go back to his work. Keyword: supposed to. But all of that goes out the window as he watches you lean back and open your legs in the mirror behind his desk that faces you. Your eyes stay posted to his as you do so, the hem of your dress riding up to reveal your naked thighs and ass. “Da hell?” he asks, confused. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask innocently, even as your thighs slowly move apart. Law swears he nearly has a heart attack when he realizes that there is nothing covering your pussy, revealing all of you to him. “Where the fuck are your panties?” he asks, glaring at the sight. 
“It was hot today,” you answer simply. “So I went without.” You lean back farther onto your hands, causing your dress to ride up onto your naked stomach. Law can't take his eyes off of your pussy though. It looks so pretty; so brown; so delectable.
“Were you just…walkin’ around like that all day?” he asks barely above a growl. “Without any panties?” He doesn't realize that he’s gripping the map until he hears a slight tear in the paper that makes him stop. 
You shoot him a scowl. “Why do you care?” you retort. “You weren’t payin’ any attention to me, so don’t act like you do now.” But obviously, you’re lying. You want him and you knew exactly how to get him. That’s why you made sure to skip out on wearing undies today. 
Nothing more comes out of Law except for groans and grunts of pleasure when he is on top of you minutes later, his clothes off and his hands gripping the hem of your dress as he fucks you in it. He has your legs up by your ears and his cock sunk deep into your pussy that makes such nice, squelching noises for him every time he thrusts into it.
“Now,” he huffs, staring down at your pretty face and jiggling titties, “any mouth you got for me now? Huh, little girl?” 
You don’t give him anything but a sob, your pretty face contorted in sheer pleasure as his cock strokes your insides. Law chuckles and sinks his two thick fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, right down to his knuckle tattoos.
“I didn't think so,” he groans. 
2K notes · View notes
seungfl0wer · 2 months ago
Text
*𝑨𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒔*
Chapter 3
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Chapter(3) Title -> Little Hero
Chapter Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Fighting, Mentions of blood and bullying, Shower Sex, Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Oral (M), Knotting, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Hair Pulling, Biting/Marking. Sorry for any mistakes or missing tags
A/N: This was made with days in between so I’m sorry if it may seem a little wonky :(
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🐾—
Minho tried to squirm his way from your sleeping grasp. Wanting to go make breakfast however your hold on him was tight. He let out a small sigh before trying to peal your hands off of him one last time. You started to squirm under him making him stop. Too late though, you were awake. “Stop moving” you said softly against his ear making stutter.
“I gotta go make breakfast.” He said softly trying to turn a bit to look at you.
“I’ll let you go on one condition” you said with a sly smile.
“Whats that?” He said tilting his head to look at you better.
“You gotta let me help” you said your smile growing.
“Y/n” he started saying before you cut him off.
“Please” you said giving him puppy dog eyes now.
“Fine, but how are you gonna get away from them?” He said pointing at the men that clung to you.
“I got this” you said.
You let him go, watching him as he got up turning to watch you. You started to move before Chan grabbed ahold of you.
“Where you going?” He said groggily.
“Gonna help make breakfast. You sleep.” You said softly kissing his cheek. You pulled Jisung over a bit letting him cuddle up to Chan before you smirked at Minho.
“See. Now let’s go cook” you said walking towards the kitchen trying not to wake anyone else up.
Minho grabbed a pan before rummaging through the fridge. “Take this and cut it” he said handing you fruit.
You saluted him “Roger that”
He rolled his eyes before starting the eggs, bacon, sausage and other things. You kept asking for anything to help. He had you make some pancakes and set the table as he cooked. As he watched you make the food he couldn’t help but melt. Cooking was something he absolutely loved and sharing it with you made him almost giddy. His body almost moved on its own, coming behind wrapping his arms around your waist. You jumped a little feeling him but settled quickly letting out a content hum.
His heart was honestly racing, he’s never felt anything like the way he’s feeling with you. He didn’t know if it was because of you being an omega or simply the fact that you were so kind. He leaned into you more head resting on your back. Swaying back and forth you couldn’t help but giggle. This scary looking guy just being soft with you. He moved his head a little to watch you flip the pancake. He let out a content sigh before kissing your neck softly. His hands rested firmly on your hips as he kept you in place. His body was so warm and his scent was almost earthy like wood but with sweet scents like honeydew.
As he let another kiss to your neck he took in a deep breath taking your scent in. He couldn’t help but burry his head into your neck kissing it more as he breathed you in.
“This is the kitchen, it’s meant for eating not whatever this is” a voice from behind said.
You couldn’t help but giggle at his words before Minho shot back “I could be eating” he said looking at him with a grin.
Seungmin came beside you getting in the fridge for a water. “Don’t let him fool you, he’s a bully” Seungmin said with a little smirk looking from your face to Minho.
Minho rolled his eyes pulling himself from you before putting the food on the table. “Wanna go wake everyone up?” Minho asked you as he placed the last bit of food. You nodded going back to wake the boys up. You woke up each man one by one before getting to Chan when you went to wake him he grabbed your arm pulling you to him. He kissed you softly before nuzzling his face into your neck. He nipped at your neck softly before his hand came up under your shirt.
“Chan” you said softly “hey we’re in the living room, wake up” you said trying to wake him more.
“Smell so good” he said against your neck before he started sucking a purple mark onto it. Your body was becoming hot as his hand wondered up your body.
“Bangchan.” You heard Minhos voice yelling making Chan jolt awake.
“Sorry y/n should have warned you some of the boys have some troubles waking up. Just glad Felix didn’t do anything.”
“Hey! That was one time and I was having a nightmare!” Felix yelled from the kitchen.
“Yeah yeah, you’re not the one that had a black eye” Minho said in a huff.
Chan lifted your head to look at him “sorry sweetheart” he said before kissing you softly.
“Suck face later, breakfast is ready and you know Minho won’t let us eat unless we are all here!” Seungmin yelled from the kitchen.
You both laughed getting up before heading to the kitchen. You all ate and discussed plans for today.
“I gotta go to the store today, y/n wanna come with and pick some stuff out?” Felix asked with a smile.
“Sounds good to me” you said with a smile back.
“I’ll drive you guys, I gotta pick up a few things anyways.” Minho said.
—🐾—
After breakfast you headed to get a shower when you opened the door you were greeted with a naked Hyunjin making your face turn bright red.
“I- uhm I’m sorry I didn’t-“ you stuttered out making him chuckle.
“You getting a shower?” He asked smiling.
“Yeah” you nodded.
“Cool, we can take on together!” He said.
“Is that ok?” You asked. Sure you remembered Chan saying about sharing you with everyone but you were afraid of making him upset.
“Don’t worry Angel, it’s ok. You’re all of ours to love. If it makes you feel better though I can call Chan” he said picking his phone up.
You shook your head “i- I just wanted to make sure I don’t want to” you started to say softly looking at the floor.
“Make him mad? Trust me. It’s ok.” Hyunjin said as he moved closer to you. He lifted your head up to look at him before kissing you lovingly. His lips felt like little clouds and tasted sweet like the syrup from the pancakes. When he pulled away his cheeks were flushed as was yours. You both giggled before he started the water.
“Take your time Angel.” He said before stepping into the shower.
You felt nervous getting naked, but you let out a soft sigh before slowly stripping. You were about to be in the shower with Hyunjin. Naked. Naked in the shower with Hyunjin. Your heart was racing, you pulled the curtain back to step in. You were greeted by a smiling Hyunjin he didn’t look at you, head under the water he just sensed you were there.
“Is the water to wa-“ he started to say his words getting caught in his throat when he saw you. His eyes trying not to roam, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. How could he not look over you though? Your body was stunning, perfect hips, perfect breast just fucking perfect. He was ogling you for a solid minute before snapping out of it. “S-sorry you’re just so- pretty” he said softly.
“You guys keep saying that but I don’t see it” you say sheepishly.
“You are- seriously you’re breath taking” he said before moving closer to you. His hand came up to cup your cheek rubbing his finger over it before he smiled. His eyes looked at you with so much love, so endearing.
“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He said before kissing you, the kiss made your heart thud. It felt so passionate so loving. You couldn’t help let out a content sigh making him smile against your lips.
Your hands made their way up his chest wrapping your arms around his neck. You downed the kiss hands tangling in his hair. He let out a soft whimper at the feeling making it easy to slide your tongue into his mouth. He pulled you with him, under the warm water. His hand slid down your body before finding its way to your folds. He let his fingers slide up and down teasing your hole. You moaned into the kiss pulling his hair slightly when he came close to your clit. You let a hand come down his body to touch his length.
His cock was a pretty pinkish color, it was long and slightly curved. The moment you touched him he melted. His legs became unsteady as he felt you gripping his cock. Hand slowly moving up and down, paying extra attention to his tip. Fingers lightly tracing over his mushroom tip before smearing the precum over it. His hips bucked at the feeling, his hand stopped moving. The pleasure you were giving him making his brain short circuit. He’s never experienced another person touching him let alone his beautiful omega.
“Y/n-“ he whimpered out.
You pulled away from his lips looking at him. That was a mistake. Fuck did he look so good. His lips a bit red from the make out session, his eyes all glossy, hair a mess. He looked at you with such desperation and need you couldn’t help yourself. “Hyune” you said softly making him perk up a little.
“Yes. Yes angel?” He panted.
You moved your body pressing it against the shower, ass now pushed back to press against his cock. You took his cock against your folds moving your body a bit.
“This will feel even better” you said.
He let out a loud groan “yeah? Want me to- to make love to you?” He said taking ahold of his cock moving it up and down your folds.
“Please?” You said looking back at him with bedroom eyes.
He nods before pushing into you slowly, he’s moaning with each inch. Your walls swallowing him up, pulling him deeper into you. He felt like he would cum right there and then. He couldn’t move his body almost frozen in pleasure. Before he knew it though you were moving. You moved your hips back pushing him deep into you. You fucked yourself on his cock, you were moaning, he was moaning. The pleasure was so much for the both of you.
“Fuck- fuck- Angel-“ he whimpered grabbing ahold of your hips to slow you down but it was no use. You were chasing your high and you were chasing it fast. His cock pressed against your g-spot making your body shutter. He leaned his body against yours leaving soft kisses to your back. His hand playing with your clit rubbing small circles around it.
You moved a hand to reach back to him, hand finding his hair. You intertwined your fingers tugging on it a bit rougher than before. His hips jolted forward making you both moan his hips were meeting your movements now. Fucking you so deep the curve of his cock making it so perfect for hitting your g-spot. With every thrust you both became lost. Hand pulling hard on his hair as you felt yourself ready to cum.
“Hyunjin! Fuck- gonna- cumming!” You choked out tugging on his hair one more time before he pushed as deep inside of you as he could. He thought about knotting you but he knew it wouldn’t go down before you had to leave so he let it press against your entrance. He could see it pulse as he unloaded inside you. He didn’t even realize with the last hair pull he had sunken his teeth into the back of your shoulder. He licked the bite making the bleeding stop before he kissed your neck softly.
“Y/n- I love you” he said softly against your ear.
“I love you to hyune” you said in a whisper back.
You both stood there panting before he pulled away. “You ok?” He asked.
You nodded “very much so, are you?” You asked.
He nodded back “we better get cleaned before the water gets too cold” he said with a smile he pulled you close to him kissing you lovingly.
“I really really do love you” he said pressing his head against yours.
“And I really love you” you said with a smile kissing the tip of his nose.
You both got cleaned up, hyunjin taking all the time he could with you. He watched your every move just loving having you to himself. He felt himself just fall for you, falling for you harder with each passing second. You’re his, theirs. He’ll do everything in his power to keep you safe and to make you feel loved till the day he dies.
—🐾—
When you both came out, Felix all but tackled you. Again. He slunk his arms around you pulling you away from hyunjin. With a slight whine Hyunjin just smiled, he had you before the others making him feel a little special. Felix pulled you to your room where he had picked out a pretty black dress for you. It had little hints of purple all through it with a nice neck line.
“I picked this out I know you’re gonna look so pretty in it! Oh oh and I have a jacket for you!” He said with a big smile handing you one of his jackets.
“Thank you lix it’s really pretty” you said smiling back at him.
“If you guys aren’t out here in the next 5 minutes I’m leaving without you!” You hear Minho yell.
You rolled your eyes before dropping the towel you had wrapped around you. Felix’s eyes went wide seeing your naked body. As much as he wanted to turn away he couldn’t. He watched as you grabbed the dress putting it on.
“Lix how does it look?” You asked twirling around to look at him.
His cheeks were flushed a bright red “beautiful” he breathed out. The way he was looking at you could only be described as heart eyes.
“Let’s go!” You heard one last warning from Minho. You scurried to get your shoes on lix taking your hand as you made your way down the hall.
“You look so pretty y/n” Changbin said with a smile.
“Yeah, that looks great on you” Chan said coming into kiss you softly.
You heard a honking sound coming from outside “you better go before he drives the car through the house” Chan teased. He kissed you one last time before making your way to the car.
Felix opened the car door for you as you slunk in you looked over at Minho. “Someone’s impatient” you teased.
Minho rolled his eyes “you guys are just slow”
As you drove to the store Minho placed a hand on your thigh. You jumped a bit making him chuckle. Felix sat in the back humming along to the music.
—🐾—
Pulling in the store Felix was quick to get out to open the door for you he smiled as you got out kissing your cheek sweetly. He intertwined your hands together smiling cheek to cheek.
Minho came around the car shaking his head at you both. Before walking towards the store, he grabbed a cart while you both followed behind him. “Get what you want” he said rolling down the isles. Felix grabbed a few things putting them in the cart. He giggled as he watched Minho looking so serious as he shopped.
“Minho knows what everyone likes so he always stalks up on them. He acts like he doesn’t care but he really does” Felix teased. He said it loud enough for Minho to hear.
“I’ll leave you here” he said not even turning around. “And you” he said “you better get some stuff” he said firmly.
Felix pulled you to another isle full of baking stuff, he grabbed some mixes and icings amongst other things. You grabbed a few snacks as well before returning to Minho to put them away. “I gotta go pee I’ll be right back” you said letting go of Felix’s hand as you made your way to the bathroom.
Coming out you hear a familiar voice. You stood in the bathroom dead in your tracks not wanting to leave. You sighed loudly that voice. That awful voice. As you walked out trying your best to walk fast away from it. You heard the voice yell to you “No way, the freak is here” the voice said making you whip your head around. There he was. One of the worst people you’ve had the disdain of meeting. You went to school with him and each day he made your life a living hell. He bullied you relentlessly over the fact that you were non showing.
The only time you showed signs of pack dynamics such as betta/alpha/omega was once. It was when you had forgotten your meds and you found him beating up on a smaller kid. The alpha side of you went through the roof making you pounce on him. Ever since that day he has made it his mission to hurt you. It was a strange thing for a woman to be any sort of alpha. It was almost unheard of and he used that to his advantage.
“I heard you finally came clean huh? Couldn’t fool anyone with those suppressants” he said making his way towards you. “Didn’t see you being an omega though” he laughed. “But guess that’s why you’re a freak” he had you almost cornered his cart blocking your way.
“I see you’re still living in your little high school mind huh?” You shot back making direct eye contact with him.
He smirked moving to close for comfort “I hate the fact you actually smell good now” he said leaning towards you his hand slinking around your side. You jumped you pushed him trying to get away before he moved both arms around you burying his head into the crook of your neck. He inhaled breathing in your scent before his nose turned up.
“You got some sad soul who wanted to be mated to you?” He said with a chuckle smelling the others scents but mostly Felix’s because of the jacket. “He’s not even an alpha” he said before licking a long strip up your neck making you want to vomit.
You brought your leg up faster than he could react clocking him square in the nuts. He about dropped to the floor, you tried making your escape only to be grabbed by him once more. “You little bitch” he said. Yanking you back to him as he pushed you harshly into the corner knocking the wind out of you.
Bangchan although not around could feel something was wrong. Marking gives almost a string to one another, if the other was in danger. He phoned Minho before he could even turn to go find you Felix was sprinting towards to bathrooms. When he saw the big man his eyes went almost black. Felix may seem like this sweet angel and for the most part he truly is however something took over him. He grabbed the man by the back of his throat digging his nails into him before yanking him off of you.
The man turning around now winding his fist up ready to fight was knocked clean on his ass. Felix was fast his smaller frame made it easier for him to maneuver and his well calculated hits made him a force to be reckoned with. The man gritted his teeth looking up at him “you’re fucking dead” he gritted before trying to stand up. Felix however left another blow to his face this time with a forceful kick to the teeth. You stood there shaking trying to snap your mind out.
This is the man that terrorized you, who made you feel worthless and unwanted. You wanted to move needed to move! But your legs felt like jello. Minho finally got to the scene, pulling you to him. “Ssh ssh it’s ok” he said softly. “Felix, that’s enough. She’s safe” he said sternly.
Felix whipped his head back to look at you and then back down at the bloodied man. “Don’t you ever come near her again!” He hissed.
The man on the ground laughed as he got up “you wait if I ever see you again.” He threatened staring you down. “I’ll get you freak. And no one will be around to save you” he said whipping the blood from his mouth.
Minho pulled you down another isle as a worker came running towards you guys. “Is everyone alright?” She asked looking you up and down. “Oh y/n, sweetheart” she said softly. She was a regular at the cafe always coming in for a coffee before work. She was a very kind lady her heart broke seeing your trembling form. “Here let me take you back to our break room ok?” She said with a soft smile.
You nod following her back as Felix and Minho stood behind you. Minho rubbed Felix’s back “you did good lix” he said proudly.
Felix should his head though “it shouldn’t have happened. I should have went with her” he said moving himself from Minhos touch.
The woman helped you to a chair grabbing you a water. “Just breathe sweetheart, you stay here and catch your bearings ok?” She said sweetly. She walked towards the door “I’ll come back in a few alright? Gonna see if I can find the jerk who did this” she said before leaving.
There was a long moment of silence, Minho rubbed your back keeping you close as Felix paced back and forth. “You alright?” Minhos voice broke the silence.
“I think so” you said still a bit shakily.
“Who was that asshole?” He asked.
You let out a deep sigh “he was a high school bully, guess he never grew out of his ‘I’m better than everyone phase’. You said with a little laugh.
Your head turned watching Felix, he looked so anxious. You stood from your seat quickly walking towards him. Before he knew it your arms wrapped around him hugging him tightly. “Thank you lix” you said softly.
He couldn’t help himself tears started streaming down his face. It was a mixture of anger and disappointment was pouring from him. “I should have came with you” he cried out.
He pulled back cupping his face to make him look at you whipping his tears away “stop that, you didn’t know. What matters is you came and helped. If anything your like my little hero” you said with a loving smile. He couldn’t help but smile pulling you into a sweet kiss. He looked at you pressing his forehead against yours “I love you” he said softly.
“I love you to Lixie” you said a small blush creeping across both your faces.
Minho cleared his throat before standing up “do you want to keep shopping or would you rather go home?” He asked.
Before you could answer the woman came back into the room with a defeated look on her face. “Well good news he’s not here anymore bad news he left before we could call the police.” She let out a sigh. “That was Mason right?” She asked. “He was always a bad kid in school to” she said shaking her head. “I’ll make a report about it so you might have someone come ask you questions” she continued as she walked towards you. She pulled you into a hug “I’m sorry sweetheart, you alright though?”
You shook your head “yeah, my little hero over there came to the rescue” you said with a smile.
“Yeah good thing he did” she said smiling. “Well my boss said for the troubles whatever you guys buy you’ll get a discount on.” She said.
“Oh, thank you. You don’t have to” you said.
“I know but you’re getting it whether you like it or not” she teased.
After that you guys went back to shopping. You were still a bit shaky when you got to the car so Minho decided to stop at a little ice cream shop. “What do you want?” He asked pulling up through the drive through.
“Oooh uhm the coffee flavored one!” You said pointing to it.
“I want-“ Felix started to say before he was cut off.
“The double chocolate brownie I already know” Minho said with a light chuckle.
He ordered a few more to take home getting everyone their favorites. Jisung his cheesecake one, Hyunjin a fruity one and so forth. He really did know what they all liked.
“Thank you” you said with a smile before kissing his cheek.
He almost jumped hands gripping at the steering wheel from it. A small blush creeped up his face, ears turning red. “Yeah, yeah whatever” he said trying not to look at you.
“Awe you got him blushing!” Felix teased.
“I’ll eat your ice cream if you keep it up” Minho snapped back in a teasing tone. Making Felix go quiet.
Arriving home you smiled handing the boys their ice cream. They were all happy except for Chan. He stared at you, eyebrows knitted looking over you. Minho, Felix and him both walked to another room. None of the others seemed to notice or wonder if something happened just happily eating their ice cream. “Didn’t you get any?” Jisung asked almost in a whisper.
“Yeah! I ate mine already” you said with a smile.
“Wanna go for a walk? I gotta take the trash down the street” Changbin asked with a smile.
“Sure!” You said smiling back.
The others came back into the room Chan making his way toward you as he wrapped his arm around you. “Let’s go shower yeah?” He asked.
“But I already did today” you said a bit confused.
“Come on” he said not giving you any room to say no.
He pulled you with him, taking you to his room to use his personal bathroom. He didn’t say much all though it looked like he was In a deep thought. You felt almost uneasy like he was mad or something. He turned his head to look at you “He didn’t hurt you did he?” Chan asked turning his head back to grab some towels.
“No.. I’m.. he didn’t hurt me” your words came out slowly.
“Good, Felix really did a number on him I hear” he said a small smile forming on his face.
“Yeah- he really did” you said starting to fiddle with your shirt.
He chuckled a bit “that boys ways stronger than he lets on” he said before turning fully at you. “Come on let’s get you out of this hmm?” He said making his way towards you.
His hands came to your shoulders, warm hands touching the skin. He crinkled his nose a bit before clenching his jaw. “God, his scents all over you” he almost growled.
Oh. So that’s why he wanted you to shower. You didn’t even realize how much he rubbed off on you. No wonder he seemed a bit agitated. “I’m sorry” you said softly feeling bad for even getting into that situation.
“Hush. You didn’t do anything” he said dropping your dress to the floor. Felix’s jacket thrown down with it. He left you in your panties before he started to strip himself.
He set the water temp before slowly getting in “you gonna take those off or?” He said with a little chuckle.
Your eyes widened a bit “oh uhm yeah sorry” you apologized again.
“Beautiful stop apologizing you’re fine” he said before getting fully in the shower.
You quickly took your panties off dropping them with the other clothes before stepping into the shower. Chan smiled at you fondly handing you a wash cloth, moving to the side so you could get under the water. The water felt warm, it relaxed you. Chan watched you as he washed his body, his eyes never moving away. The shower was nice and relaxing, a calming silence between you two. As you both stepped out to dry off Chans hands come to your side he pressed his body against yours. Your back fully pressed against his chest.
“My princess” he said softly before kissing your neck softly. Kissing over the bite mark he had left on you. His muscular body felt so soft against yours his hands ever so slightly running up your side. “I think you should go show our lixie some extra love don’t you?” He said softly against your ear. You nodded in response, he hummed kissing your soft skin one more time before he pulled away. He gave you a fond smile handing you a pair of his sweats and a comfy hoodie. “I think he’s waiting to you in his room” he smirked.
As you got dressed Chan slinked a hand around you again pulling you to him. He kissed you lovingly smiling against your lips “my pretty girl, don’t keep him waiting” he said letting go of his grasp on your hip. You giggled a little before making your way out of the bathroom. Chan took your clothes you had on smelling that asshole again. He growled tossing it in the hamper to take downstairs to wash. “I’ll kill you on spot if I ever see you” he snarled thinking of the man who dared touched you.
You made your way to Felix’s room knocking softly before hearing a little “come in”. Felix was sat on his bed smiling shyly up at you.
“There’s my little hero” you said with a teasing smile. You walked towards him plopping yourself down beside him. “Y/n” he said softly.
“Hm?” You hummed turning to meet his gaze. You could tell he was nervous not knowing what to do exactly. It made him even cuter honestly. So you helped him, you leaned in kissing him lovingly. His lips worked with yours feeling his tongue glide against your lips asking for entrance. You happily abided parting your lips, he quickly darted his tongue into your mouth lapping at your sweet flavor.
He tasted like the chocolate ice cream he had just a bit before. You moved your hand placing it on his thigh making him stiffen a bit. Your hand slowly crept up inching closer and closer to his manhood. He left out a small whimper at the feeling. “Lixie” you said softly against his lips. “Let me- let me make you feel good” you said pulling at his waistband. He lifted his hips helping you take his pants off. You kneeled down in front of him pulling his boxers down as his hard cock slapped against his chest.
His cock was longer than you expected, thicker, his mushroom tip red and leaking pre cum already. You groaned a bit before taking his tip to your lips. You moved your hand up and down his shaft before slowly taking him into your mouth. He let out a low moan hips bucking at the feeling. You worked your way up and down his cock taking him all in. He was moaning gripping your hair to keep it from your face. You looked up at him keeping eye contact as you looked swallowed around him.
“F-fuck-“ he groaned out “I- y/n I’m gonna” he started to say before you softy bit at his shaft making him moan even louder. The sensation bringing his orgasm to a head. Hot liquid shooting back your throat as his thighs trembled under you. “M’sorry” he said softly.
“Don’t be sorry lixie” you said with a smile.
He grabbed at your arms pulling you up to him. “Can- can you take off your pants?” He asked. You nodded pulling them down before he quickly pulled you to him making you straddle him. His cock slowly hardening again. You moved your hips slowly letting his cock glide against your wet folds. The sensation making you both moan. His cock quickly became hard again, he let out a little whine before lifting your hips up. “Need to feel you” he said before latching his lips to yours. He kissed you sloppily as he pushed himself into you.
You sunk fully on his cock, taking his full length in. His cock hitting your cervix making you both shake a bit from pleasure. His hands wrapped around your body letting you move at your own pace. You took your time moving slowly against him wanting to take him all in. His tongue darting into your mouth once more. “More- I need- need more” he said with almost a growl. He pushed his feet firmly down before pushing up into you with force. You swear you could see the bulge of his in your stomach.
Felix fucked up into you with need, he was chasing his ever growing his again wanting to burry himself so fully into you. “I’m never gonna let anything ever happen to you again.” He grunted out. “Your my mate, our mate- fuck- no ones ever gonna touch again. I’ll- I’ll fucking kill them” he snarled. His thrust were becoming more animalistic. He gripped at your arms pulling them behind you holding them there as he fucked into you. His knot slowly taking shape pushing against your soaked entrance.
“Fuck y/n gonna knot you yeah? Gonna take my knot so well?” He said.
“Yes- Felix please! Want it, please fill me with all you got” you begged. His hand let go of your arms moving down to play with your clit. Your walls clenched around him sucking him in even more.
“Felix!” You almost screamed.
“Yeah sweets? You close? Gonna cum on my cock?” He slurred.
You nodded franticly feeling your high about to crash over you. “I’m- shit!” Felix said hands franticly wrapping around you. Leaving your sensitive nub griping at you was hard as he pulled you down fully taking his knot. He leaned his head against your neck rutting into you. You felt his cum pouring into you, a sharp feeling at your shoulder. Felix sunk his teeth into you leaving it leaving a nice mark. He lapped at the blood hand coming back down play with your clit as you came hard around him with the mixtures of pleasure.
Your body trembled as your orgasm washed over you clenching tightly around his knot. He let out a guttural groan his arms found there way back around you pulling you with him to lay down on the bed. You both shook trying to catch your breaths.
“Y/n” he said softly pushing his hair from his face. “I love you. So fucking much.” He said softly.
You gazed back into his eyes “I love you Felix so so much” you said before kissing him.
“Was I too rough?” He asked.
You shook your head “no, you were perfect”
“Not as perfect as you my little mate” he said with a sly smile.
You both laid there together for a while you took in Felix’s room. It was nicely decorated and felt warm. His gaming set up in the corner, small plushies and figurines on the shelf’s with manga and books. It was so neat and tidy as well and smelled like cinnamon. You don’t remember falling asleep but you both did. Both dozing off after already long day.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
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Werewolf series Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @stayconnecteed @minniesverse @ldysmfrst @jehhskz @lunearta @hello-stranger24 @justastraymoa @hyun-prince @catlove83 @lunearta @iknow-uknow-leeknow @chocolateislife @doitforbangchan @kkamismom12 @minghaosimp @dessianna1 @fiestaplum-skz @jeonginsleftcheek @queen-in-the-shadows @manuosorioh @tsunderelino @aalexyuuuhm
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xxanaduwrites · 6 months ago
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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m’no good
✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️
summary: in which honey gets the call from johnny that benny’s in the hospital :( cal takes her to him. :’)
warnings: talks of being beaten, descriptions of injury, cursing, lying, crying, being judgy again. it’s an emotional one to say the least, but there’s some sweet moments & a happy ending :)
author’s note: this is NOT in order with the last two parts posted. instead, it’s a future installment in “bein’ married.” you can find the timeline in da main hive masterlist. this is heavily based on the events of the bikeriders movie of benny getting beat up & hospitalized. of course this is my own made-up spin on the situation at hand. idk this idea struck me at 3am & i wrote it in less than a day, so i figured i’d just release it now. you can find a mention of this scenario in session 1 of from the hive 🎙️🐝 this can be read alone if you like, but the interview context could help for sure! x
+ also if you were wondering, i personally picture honey as brittany murphy’s character in uptown girl’s molly gunn! i’ve been obsessing over her style in it & that’s what inspired honey’s style in my writing — especially with the embroidered overalls. you can picture her however you please, & i hope you continue to do as yourself ofc <3
word count: 4.7k (2x longer than the other parts, yay!)
💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋
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You were in the midst of Sunday dinner with your parents when you got the news. News that would leave you scrambling out of the house in an instant with no thoughts behind your honeydew drop eyes besides him — besides Benny.
Your Pa was comfortable at the head of the table, a cigarette between his lips as he scanned the paper under reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. Your Ma had just taken her seat at the table, a forkful stabbing into her salad. So when the phone rang your Pa didn’t even flinch. A result of him being too engrossed in his paper. On the other hand, your Ma sighed in a way that made you know she was evidently too tired to be on her feet again. This led you to announce that you’d get the phone. And you did, pulling it off the reciever and twisting your little finger around the warm yellow chord.
“Hi, you’ve reached The BeeHive. Honey speaking!” You chirped into the phone in your usual honey coated tone. Between your family business that consisted of beekeeping and honey jarring, answering the phone in such a way became rather customary and oddly normal. So much so that no one seemed to bat an eye besides your cousins who laughed every time they called. Absolute menaces indeed.
“Honey?” It was Johnny’s drawl on the line, rough and edgy with a twinge of something you couldn’t catch.
“Oh hi Joh— Mr. Davis!” You cleared your throat and corrected yourself. Trying to remain formal. Trying to remain respectable. Sure, you and Johnny were far from past that. Calling him Johnny instead of Mr. Davis was an entirely different respect that only you, Benny, the wives, and the rest of the guys would ever understand. So your parents? Well, they wouldn’t get that, and besides his kids were still your students after all. “How’s it goin’? Y’need to speak to my Pa? He’s right ‘ere.” You asked, your father’s demeanor easily shifting at the mention, his paper going flat against the table. It wasn’t unusual for Johnny to call your house. No — Johnny was a consistent buyer of your family’s honey. He incorporated it into the Club, handing the guys out honey beers during picnics and meetings. He learned of it from those community events you frequented with your parents, always having some sort of incorporation when catering was involved.
“Nah — nah.” He brushed that idea away rather quickly and your brows furrowed in confusion. “Gotta speak to yuh. Look I — I needa tell y’something, but if your Pa’s overhearin’ I need yuh to pretend we’re talking about the girls, alright?”
“I —“ you began but stopped short trying to compartmentalize what he was saying without reacting. “Oh, right I remember we were gonna talk about the girls' grades, yeah?” You rambled out, your words feeling far too thick coming out of your mouth, it almost didn’t sound like you. You feared your parents would catch on instantly, but instead their interest deflated as soon as nothing you said resembled anything to do with their business. It only took a second for your father to go back to his paper and beer and your mother to her salad.
“That’a good, Honey. Very good.” Johnny praised as you motioned with your hand that you were gonna step out of a sec, which really meant you were gonna pull the chord as far as you could into the other room. The distance — well it wasn’t much. The open archway from your parent’s kitchen to the living room wasn’t sound proof, so they could still technically hear every word you said, but your volume would be at lower frequency for sure, and your reactions practically undefinable.
“They’re doing real good, Mr. Davis. Bright girls you got there.” You muttered out so Johnny would know you were still there. You could feel your heart going a mile a minute as you paced the short distance available you could in restraint of the phone.
“I know. I know. They love ya, Honey, and they’re just fine. No need to worry ‘ere.” He reassured you, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips. The last thing you needed to hear was something bad about those babies. It would absolutely break your heart. But what you weren’t expecting to hear was something that would shatter it into a million little pieces. “It’s uh — it’s Benny.” Johnny said, and every fiber of your being went on fire, burning to ash. “He’s — he’s banged up, Honey. Got ‘im in the hospital and everything. ‘parently some jackasses got ‘im real good at some pub not too far from us. Beat him the fuck up, and broke his foot. Could’a lost the damn thing over his colors.”
A gasp left your lips in an instant, and you almost choked as you swallowed down a whimper to conceal the sudden volcano of tears bound to erupt. Now you understood why Johnny wanted — no needed this conversation to be under wraps. Your parents were already nervous about your ridin’ and to hear about some guys jumping your husband for bein’ part of the Club 'would have your parents in a frenzy. “I’m — I’m so sorry t—to hear that, J — Mr. Davis.” You continued the facade, a facade that pained you even more now as you tied back your emotions so forcfully wanting to rip from the seams. “Is your l-little girl okay?”
“He’s fine. They’re takin’ good care of him last I heard from Cockroach. He’s up and talkin’. Took ‘im to the hospital on the West End.” Johnny explained and little by little, piece by piece the fragments of your heart were starting to come back together, but you knew for certain, they wouldn’t be mended until you saw him. Until you got to touch him. Inspect him. Coddle him. Got to know who the fuck messed with him. “Go ‘n see ‘im. He needs his wife, alright?”
“I will.” You assured him, stepping back to peek through the archway at your parents who were still eating. Thankfully nothing seemed amiss. “I’ll be over soon with the homework she’s gonna miss for the week. Does she need anything else from me? Need a friend to bring her books home tomorrow?” You added in code. Code for ‘Who the fuck did this to him, and how could you help make sure those fuckers never got as close as a mile away from Benny again?’
“Nah. Don’t you be worryin’ now, Honey. The guys and I are on it. We’ll take care of ‘em. You take care of ‘im.” He settled on the plan. “Capisce?”
A wave of relief washed over you then. A relief that could only come from Johnny’s word alone. Cause you knew he’d take care of it. He always did. “Capisce.” You sniffled, not caring anymore if your parents caught on.
“Cal’s already on the way to pick ya up at your Ma’s.” He informed you. “Told ‘em to park around the corner so there’s no suspicion. You can tell ‘em you're stoppin’ by the house.” You never thought a time like this would leave you feeling extra grateful that Johnny and his family only lived a block away from your parents. But here you were, feeling just that.
You wanted to thank him then. The words were resting against your tongue heavily, so you made do with what you could. “Thank you, Mr. Davis. I’ll tell ‘em you said ‘ello. Please send my parents regards to your wife and the girls. I’ll be there soon.”
“Anything for ya n’ Benny. Y’know that. Yuh take care of y’self now, o—kay?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, itching to run out of your house and into Benny’s arms already. If you could. God, you sure hoped he wasn’t too banged up for a cuddle or two. Makin’ him feel a whole lot better was your main concern. “Bye Mr. Davis. See ya soon,” you spoke into the line before stepping heavily across the threshold and accidently putting the phone back on the hook with a little more aggression than you anticipated.
“Sorry,” you tensed and broke out in an innocent smile, “I gotta go to Mr. Davis’s. His girl is sick real bad with the Flu. Doctors says she’ll be out of school for a week and of course there’s all this important testin’ going on. Gotta keep ‘er on track, y’know? Such a good cookie. Get in a fit if she misses one lick of school.” You rambled on, adding more and more to lie you rather not tell, but knew it was for their own good. For your own good. For Benny’s. Your marriage. Your future. What you’d hope would become a bundle of joy or two with his pretty blue eyes and freckled face to match.
“‘Course she does. She’s a Davis after all.” Your father added, a fond smile stretching across his face.
“Oh that’s too bad,” your mother frowned, and then stood unexpectedly, her chair scraping against the kitchen flooring. “Here, I’ll pack ya some honey buns to take to ‘er.” Before you could protest your Ma was already piling some of her homemade buns into a metal cookie container and passing them to you.
“Real sweet, Mama.” You could feel your eyes startin’ to tear up again, that familiar wave of remembrance coming back to remind you what you were really leaving for. A wave of impatience that made your anxieties spike higher and higher at the prospect of more minutes ticking away without you being next to Benny. “M’sure it’ll make ‘er feel so much better in no time.” You kissed your Ma on the cheek in appreciaton and turned to head out.
“Wait,” your Ma said right when you were about to exit the front door with your backpack in tow. Thankfully she didn’t see you mouth a curse into the air with your back towards her. “Y’didn’t even get to touch your dinner. Will ya be back to finish it or should I wrap it up?”
“Nah. That’s ‘ight.” You declined. “I still got leftovers in the fridge for me and Benny from Rosie’s. Heat it up when I get home, but thanks Mama. Save it for yuh and Pa.”
“‘ight. Get’ome safe, Honey.” She called out. Safe. Safe. Benny didn’t get home safe, but he was safe now. Safe in the hospital that is, but was he really safe?
Your fingers gripped the doorhand, knuckles burning white as you took a breath to calm yourself. “I will, Mama. Love ya. Bye!” And then you were out the door, trying to keep your composure as long as you could, until you were out of eyeshot of your Ma and Pa’s. Your ballet flat feet banged against the pavement as you went on running down the rest, a sharp turn at the corner showing Cal by his bike, waiting and ready for you. A fresh cigarette between his lips, just ‘bout to be lit, long forgotten once his eyes landed on you.
It only took one look at him. One frown on those deep set features of his for you to be barrelling at him, strong arms encircling you in a hug.
“Oh Cal!” You cried into his tattered shirt, the dame of tears breaking out of you uncontrollably. Too uncontrollably. But you didn’t care. Couldn’t care. It was Cal after all. The brother you never had. The brother you should have had. The family you now had because of Benny. Because of Johnny. And it wasn’t that you didn’t love your parents — you loved and appreciated them of course, but you never felt fully accepted by them. So being in Cal’s arms was far more comforting than being in the arms of your parents because you could be yourself with Cal, without judgment.
“M’so sorry, Honey. So sorry.” He mumbled into your sun kissed up-do, smelling of fresh vanilla and honey scented soap.
You were crying so hard. Too hard. You’d become a total mess of hiccups and hard breathes. Of course, Cal accessed you accordingly, pulling you from his chest to take a good look at ya. And boy did your rosey cheeks and red rimmed glossy coated eyes destroy him. They really did. He hated seein’ you like this. All the guys did. They loved you far too much.
Cal’s warm calloused fingers circled the apples of your cheeks, brushing away the tear tracks that resided. “It’s gonna be ‘ight. ‘erything gonna be okay.” He cooed, trying to calm you down. “Gotta stay strong for ‘im so he can get betta. Can’t take ya like this. It’ll break ‘im, Honey.”
“I — I know. I know.” You squeezed your eyes shut, wet lashes bowing down. You took a breath. Then another. And another until you felt somewhat better. More calm that is.
“Ready t’go?” Cal asked carefully when he noticed your breaths evening out.
“Mhm,” you hummed, nodding your head.
Cal helped you onto his bike and you clung onto him as you rode. The weight of his jacket felt oddly comforting in your hold. Even though the circumstances of such colors were alarming in such a time, it didn’t leave you on edge by any means. Before you knew it, you were pulling up in the West End. Cal parked his bike, leading you to the front desk and of course the receptionist looked at the two of you kind-of funny.
“Family only.” She said to Cal, immediately putting two-and-two together who he was here for before turning to you, a big smile gracing her features. “How can I help ya, Miss?”
Your emotions were all over the place. Anger bubbling up inside you in an instant, ready to burst at the assumption of such a thing. Sure, it was a common mistake. To be misplaced next to one of the guys in your floral knitted cardigan and patterned jeans to match. But now — now, of all times. It was your last straw.
“That’s ‘is wife. Uh — Honey Cross.” Cal motioned to you, explaining who you were before your rage could ensue.
“Hm — I don’t see a Honey here,” the receptionist said, amusement crossing her features. Clearly pleased by shooting Cal’s advances in an instant. “I’m going to need to see some ID.” She pushed, and you were already ripping off your backpack before she could even finish the sentence.
Cal’s hands materialized around the straps without a second thought, helping you out of the thing but also holding it up for you while you fished for your bedazzled wallet. It was in the deep depths of the thing, mushed around with all your work sheets and lesson plans for the week. You were always equipped and extra prepared, making your supposed trip to the Davis’s for his little girl not amiss one bit. Your cutesy keychain clipped to the end flung about as you finally uncovered it, whipping out your ID with ease. This wasn’t your first rodeo in such a situation, learning from the last time Benny was tossed in a jail cell to get your ID updated with your new last name as soon as humanly possible.
The receptionist looked between you, Benny’s paperwork, and your ID for longer than necessary. “Hmmm, okay. Second floor room twelve, Mrs. Cross.” She finally gave in. “But you’ll have to stay here, Mister.” She told Cal.
He raised his hands up in the air like he was bound to be incarcerated, and the sight almost got a laugh out of you. Almost. “Fine. I’ll be out front when y’ready, Honey.” He informed you, and you nodded.
He helped you put your things back together, and when he caught wind of your name etched into your ID, his eyes widened. “Huh? So that’s y’real name then.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, wedging the thing back into your wallet, snapping it close. And if you thought the receptionist was suspicious earlier, she was far more suspicious now.
His features scrunched up in an innocent way, that long earring of his shaking as he shook his head. “S’cute, but I can’t see ya as anything else but Honey. Be weird if I called y’anything else.”
“I get it,” the edge of your clip curled up in a faint smile then. Your first smile in what felt like ages. You couldn’t help it with Cal. It was hard not to smile around him. “Feels weird calling you Calvin, Caleb, or Calum or whatever. Which is it anyways?” You asked, brows furrowed in confusion at the thought as you zipped your bag closed.
“Don’t matter now.” He patted your shoulders once your backpack was shelled around you. “Time to go see y’man, anyways.”
Turning on your heel, you nodded when you faced him, thanking him profusely and giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek as you gave him a tight hug. Once you let him go, you were off. Darting across the halls and climbing up the stairs, you weaved around the patients in their hospital beds being pushed by nurses and doctors in their lab coats until you made it to room twelve. For a moment, you stopped in your tracks, attempting a warm honey smile to grace your hubby with. To distract him from the evident pain he was having and the deep rooted distraught you felt inside.
But once you turned the corner, oh — you were a goner. There was Benny with a blue blooming zygoma, a swollen and bandaged eye, and his right foot propped up in a form fitted cast. Your heart shattered all over again without your control. Your hubby looked like a beat up puppy dog, and you couldn’t help but frown at the sight.
His blues — well his good one that is — caught your eye immediately. It was hard not to when you came waltzing in like that, all dolled up in a swarming buzz of color and sweet honey perfume. It wafted across the room and the smell touched his nose, warming him up for the first time since he’s been placed in this cold sterile room.
“Honey?” He blinked. Once. Twice. Wondering if your sweet face was an apparition. He told Cockroach not to tell you. Didn’t want you to see ‘im like this. Not until he was out and the brusin’ subsided at least, but he guessed Roach forgot to relay the message to Johnny and the rest of the guys when he told ‘em.
“Oh — my poor baby!” You cooed, racing across the room as soon as his gravelly voice hit your ears. You dotted on him in an instant. Fitting your form on the small empty space at the edge of the bed near his hip, you didn’t even bother pulling over the chair adjacent to his bed. And Benny didn’t mind no.
Even though he wasn’t too happy to see you here, he was happy to feel you here.
Your hand brushed through his hair and caressed the good side of his face, sweet and delicate. Benny couldn’t help but lean his cheek into your comforting touch. For the very first time you watched as a hot warm tear trickled down his cheek and landed on your hand.
“Please don’t let’em take my foot,” he begged, his large warm hands circling around both of yours and dropping them in his lap. “If — If they take my foot then I can’t ride again, and — and then how will I-I take y’to school?”
His sweep of emotions took you by surprise. You’d never seen him cry. Not when he was beaten and bruised in a bar fight. Not when a shard of glass wedged itself into his skin after punching through a car window. Not when you were applying alcohol to his cuts or when he was gettin’ stitches. No Benny never cried. And here he was now. Crying in front of you. In front of his wife. God, of course that just wrecked you.
Sure, maybe someone else would have made a stink. Would have told him that there were bigger things to worry about then his riding. But you wouldn’t do that — no. Besides you, ridin’ was Benny’s biggest passion. And both showed in the way he was most concerned about you. Concerned about taking care of you. How’d he do that if they took his foot and couldn’t take you to work every day. You couldn’t drive. Didn’t know how. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you just never had the time to go get your driver’s license. Not between working at the local diner while you were studying and getting your degree. And now that you had it and Benny well — you had all that you really needed.
“I won’t let ‘em, baby. I promise. I promise.” You assured, pulling his strong hands up with yours and kissing each and every rough rimmed knuckle of his. “As for takin’ me to school. Don’t you worry about that. Took the bus before I met y’anyways. Doesn’t make a difference. I’ll do it until you’re better again, alright?”
But it did make a difference. It did to him. He adored those mornings and afternoons when he had you on the back of his bike, taking you to and from school. He especially loved it when you were still living with your Ma and Pa. It was the little things like that that not only got him through his day, but also made him feel like he was doing something good. Doing something good by you. Makin’ himself seem responsible enough to your parents for being on time and prompt, to marry you. And it worked after a while. He had you now as his wife. In the apartment you shared. In his home. In his bed. While that was all good and great, he couldn’t help but wonder if something like this would set them off.
He grimaced, the thoughts gnawing at him and makin’ him ask you, “do y’parents know?”
“No, no. They don’t. Think I’m at Johnny’s dropping off homework for his sick little girl. Think you’re at work. ‘Member I told ‘em you were working today so you didn’t have to come?” You reminded him.
It wasn’t uncommon for you to throw a little white lie around here and there to your parents about Benny. Sure, he was on good terms with them now thanks to Johnny. Thanks to the fact that their little girl had him as her husband, and they didn’t have too much of a choice. But, that didn’t mean things were perfect. Benny wasn’t much of a fan at the way they treated you from time to time. Especially when they made comments about your decisions. About the way you dressed. He thought you were perfect as is, and it boiled his blood whenever he heard them goin’ on and on about it, especially at Sunday dinners. So sometimes he just didn’t come. Sometimes you didn’t go either. But of course you did today cause you felt bad you hadn’t been in awhile and felt like you needed to see ‘em. They were your parents after all. Now you were regretting not going with him instead. Maybe none of this would have happened if you had never gone to your parents in the first place.
“Hm, right,” he sighed, squeezing your hand in appreciation. “How was it anyways? Did they give ya a hard time?”
“No. Not today,” you replied. “Didn’t have time to. Didn’t even get t’sit down. I should’ve been with y’anyways.”
“No y’shouldn’t of.” He shook his head in disagreement, and then revealed, “m’no good for ya, baby.”
“What?!” You gasped, absolutely baffled by what he was sayin’. “What you goin’ on about?” He hadn’t just really said that? Had he? He did! “S’not true. Not true at all.” Your cute little bee earrings shook as you moved your head back and forth in earnest. “You’re too good t’me —“ He bowed his head down in a silent no. “Far too good,” you repeated, trying to search his eye so he could see you. Really see that you meant every word you were sayin’. “Y’loyal to Johnny and the guys. To me.” You reminded him, but his gaze was still downwards, trained on your conjoined hands in his lap. You brushed your thumb back and forth against his skin. “Lemme ask you somethin’..” you began, “What did y’do when those guys came up to ya, huh?”
“Told ‘em they’d have to kill me to get my jacket off,” he revealed, his response making your lips curl up soundly. That was your Benny right there, your loyal Benny.
“And why’s that?” You asked, pushing on. Trying to get him to the root of his decision.
“Cause…” he shrugged, taking a moment to think about it. “It represents my family….represents you. Hell, I got your patches on it!” His voice was slowly rising in defense, in bits of anger. “Got your name sewed over my heart bigger than a goddamn weddin’ ring will ever be and those fuckers laughed about it!”
A full, bright toothed smile had your dimples peaked like two pretty mountains, and when Benny’s eyes finally found your sweet honey speckled ones — well his anger dissipated. “Ah, c’mere.”
“I don’t wanna crush y—“ you began, worrying about hurting him, but he cut you off immediately.
“C’mere,” he cooed, scooting over just a tad so you could lay next to ‘em. Of course you couldn’t say no to him. Could never ever. Not when he wanted y’so bad. “Need my girl.”
“Alright, alright,” you hummed, rolling your eyes playfully as you curled yourself next to ‘em. A comfortable silence landed over the two of you, one that you were thankful for after everything. After all the fuss of the day. You just wished you could be just like this with him at home in your own bed. His strong arm wrapped around your back, hand cupping your shoulder and you tilted your head onto his own. His lips found your forehead quickly, feeling more pillowy than usual from the impact on his face and your eyes fluttered at the contact. “Oh that reminds me. Did ya eat?”
“Huh?” He hummed confused.
“Did they feed y’here yet?” You tried again.
“Nah,” he replied.
“Fuckin’ hell. Got y’propped up, but can’t feed ya…” you shook your head in disappointment, and your concern for him over something so miniscule within the swarm of everything warmed his heart tenfold.
You moved to get up, but he stopped you short with his hand that was once on your shoulder now materializing on your waist. “Where y’going?” He pouted.
“Nowhere, baby.” You assured him, fingers curling under the good side of his chin so you could leave a soft kiss on his lips which he relaxed in as soon as it came. “Just grabbin’ my bag from the floor. Got some grub — well…” you trailed off, a laugh escaping you as you unzipped your bag and took out the tin your mother gave you. “I know it ain’t dinner, but I say dessert won’t hurt. Doctor’s orders, y’know?” You opened the tin to reveal the fresh honey buns your Mama made then, and God did Benny wanna just eat you up instead. “Y’want?”
He nodded, so you didn’t hesitate in passing one over to him. Both of you enjoyed the sweet treat. So much so, that when a crumb or two fell on your chest, Benny dived right in to access it — and well who were you to protest when his soft lips met your warm skin? When his lips continued their assault around your fingers, cleaning off the sugary residue that remained. And you were happy. So happy and giddy because you were with your Benny. You knew no matter what happened. No matter what came next, the two of you would be alright. Cause that was what marriage was all about, signing up for the good, the bad, and the ugly, being there for each other in sickness and in health.
And in that short hour or so that remained in visiting hours, before the nurse flagged you down to kick you out, you laughed and giggled more than you had in days, and even when you scolded him, warning that a nurse may catch him licking down your chest or sucking your fingers, a smile graced your sweet features the entire time and Benny ate up every single second soundly.
“I fuckin’ love ya, y’know that Mrs. Cross?” He said to you at some point, in the midst of everything.
“I fuckin’ love ya too, Mr. Cross. Always and forever.”
And always and forever it was.
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additional author’s note: AH I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF. PWETTY PLZ DON’T BE MAD AT ME FOR JUMPING OUT OF ORDER. (with a cherry on top 🍒)
my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.
+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)
smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋
da bee hive 🐝
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cherrycranes · 21 days ago
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Gringo Boyfriend (Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader) [+18]
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Pairing: Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader Summary: You're mexican and while in the USA you meet a really cute guy. Now that he's your boyfriend, you take him to Mexico to show him around (and put your hands on him!) Word count: 3,837 Contents: (Minors DNI). Reader is mexican! Handjob, spitting, public. Author's notes: This fanfic written in collaboration with my dear @honeydew-angel is dedicated to all mexican (and latino) Cillian fans! I've seen so many people wanting to see Cillian interact with our culture so I hope this scratches the itch a little bit. If you're not mexican nor latino you can still read and enjoy this fic and I really hope you like it! Also, a little disclaimer, the usage of the word "gringo" is non-offensive, as it is just a colloquial term that means "foreigner". And a second disclaimer, do NOT give handjobs in the boats in Chapultepec, you're gonna get arrested lmao
When you first told your family back in Mexico about your trip to the USA, playful comments like: "maybe you'll come back with a gringo boyfriend!" were never amiss. You chuckled them off, you were going there to work as an au pair and also to visit your grandma, you wouldn't have time to meet new people and go on dates. Still, a little part of your heart was kept open to the possibility. Who knows?
The first month was fine. Your host family lived in upstate New York, in a town you had never heard of before called Bayonne. It was lovely. Bayonne was an hour and a half away from your grandmother’s house, the host family’s home was huge and the kids you took care of were just as expected. They were old enough to be taken out shopping and to the park, so every day after their homework was done you would go out with them for a walk or to run some errands for the home. 
About a month and a half after your arrival, the oldest kid turned 11, and for his birthday party he wanted to rent some movies and get snacks. You would have gone to Media Giant or Blockbuster, but on the way, the kid saw this very fun looking store called 'Gumshoe Video' and you decided to just rent from there. 
You still remember the sound the little bells made when you entered Gumshoe Video. The kids got busy looking at the superhero movies and, since the store looked interesting, you decided to rent something for your grandma too: an old classic Mexican movie from the 50s that she had told you about, hoping they would have it. 
The calm, soft, and welcoming atmosphere of the little store made you remember your old cozy late-night movies with your parents. You missed them, but at least the summer heat prevented you from feeling really homesick for Mexico. That day you were wearing a white tank top that suited your chest perfectly, paired with a black mini skirt that showed off your tanned legs, and a pair of red flats. You had thought nothing of it when you put it on, it was just hot outside. You didn’t know the beautiful gaze you would catch when you walked slowly through the store dressed like that.
That’s when he saw you—the most flawless and beautiful woman he had ever seen. You couldn't tell what you felt in that moment when you noticed the mesmerizing pair of baby blue eyes following you throughout the store. For some reason, it made you feel all warm and tingly. You headed to the classic movies section when you heard a voice that was almost angelic.
"Hey! Are you looking for something in particular?" You stared at him, almost astonished by the clearness and prettiness of his eyes and by the way he became shy when he waited for your answer. Coming back to reality, you bit your lip. 
"Uhmm, yes! By any chance, do you?...I-I know this might sound stupid, but do you have old classic Mexican movies from the 50's?" You asked with that voice that made his ears fall in love. He was intrigued by your request. It wasn't like a lot of hot, mesmerizing, and pretty girls came into their store to ask about old classic Mexican movies. 
"Well, uhmm... first of all, it's not stupid. Second, I think we actually might have one or two!" He told you with a big smile. Your eyes lit up at his response. You turned your head to tell the kids to wait for you at the counter and you followed him across the store.
"Uhmm... I'm Neil, by the way." he said, stopping at a tiny room and turning around to face your pretty face. 
"Oh. Pleasure to meet you, Neil." You told Neil your name and offered your hand for a greeting. The moment your hands touched, both of you felt an electric and intense warm feeling running through your bodies...
The rest was history. Neil was a sweet guy who always found the best and most effective excuse to see you again. All those visits then turned into dates when you had time off, and then, those dates turned into a really loving relationship. Neil adored you, his Mexican cinema repertoire and knowledge grew massive as proof. With each passing day he was more than sure about something: you were the love of his life. And he was going to learn everything about the culture of the love of his life.
It was December, the moment you had waited for. For months you and Neil had planned a trip to Mexico so he could meet your family and get to know your homeland. The plan was like this: a week before Christmas you’d go first to Mexico City to cover all the touristic bases and show him around, and on the 23rd you’d travel to your parents’ house and spend the holidays there with them and your extended family. Simple yet it made Neil a little nervous, he wanted to leave a really good impression. His dream was to get along with your relatives and become part of the family, marry you, make you incredibly happy, howl in unison at the TV when watching soccer with your dad and your cousins, compliment your mother and your grandma´s dishes at every family function, give your nephews some baby cousins to play with… Neil wanted all that and more and he would swear on Gumshoe Video that he would get it.  
But for now, you were in Mexico City, with you showing him everything like an extremely well paid tourist guide. It was so endearing seeing just how you glowed. The sun, while the same everywhere in the world, just shone in such a unique way in your country and bathed you stunningly. He fell in love with you all over again in every place you took him. And you took him everywhere. From traditional food restaurants to museums to landmarks, the gears in your head constantly turned and came up with new date ideas.
When you first told Neil you wanted to go on a really cheesy date to one of your favorite places in Mexico City and do the typical things people do there—like having one of those "changuitos miones" on his head—it was all a joke. You just imagined Neil with one of those colorful monkey-shaped headpieces perched upon his head, going for a boat ride on the little lake, visiting the zoo right next to it, or even getting Mexican food around there. You just thought it would be funny. After your tour around Mexico City, you thought you might show him where you spent most of your weekends with your family. You told him about it as just an idea he might like, never really expecting to actually be here with "changuitos miones" on your heads or taking photos of the two of you with random animals in the zoo. You were basically having the date of your dreams with Neil, giving him a tour of the place you grew up, going for your favorite food at a fancy restaurant on a romantic terrace with the best view of the city, and visiting local street stands for tacos and quesadillas.
Seeing your boyfriend embracing your culture made you feel like you couldn’t love him any more. The way he loved the food, the places, and the culture was truly gratifying. There you two were, about to enter Chapultepec Forest. It was sunny and a little windy. You asked him what he wanted to do first—see the animals, take a walk in the park, visit a museum, or go to the significant and truly amazing Chapultepec monuments. He decided to go to the zoo first. Once there, you took out your Instax camera and snapped a cute picture of Neil distractedly looking at the giraffes. You did this about ten more times until Neil noticed.
"Sweetie! Stop! I look so bad in those pictures!" Neil said in a playful tone, a pout forming on his mouth. You loved whiny and playful Neil.
"Oh Neil, no, you look like the cutest and most adorable baby!" you teased, knowing how much he loved praise.
"Come on, baby, we need to finish the zoo tour so we can get to the other fun stuff." you said, pulling him along.
Neil wanted to stay longer and appreciate every animal there, but you were already tugging his arm. Neil didn’t have any choice but to say goodbye to the only panda in Latin America and follow you, still pouting. Holding his hand so he wouldn’t get lost in the huge place, you headed to the actual forest/park right next to the zoo, though it was a long walk. On your way there, you stopped at every food or souvenir stand. You couldn’t help but imagine Neil with a "changuito mión" on his head and picture the cute Instax photo you’d have.
You stopped at a stand with all types of traditional Mexican snacks, which also sold those "changuitos." Squeezing Neil’s hand and giving little excited jumps, you showed how thrilled you were. Neil stopped and looked at how cute you were when excited.
"Neil!! Oh my God! We need to have those monkeys on our heads!"
Neil was stunned; he didn’t know what you were talking about but figured it out after seeing some kids with fake monkeys on their heads.
"Oh! Hmm, baby, don’t you think we’re a little too old for that?" he asked, not wanting to upset you.
"Oh Neil, come on!! It’s almost obligatory to wear one if you’re in Chapultepec! Besides, you’ll look super cute and adorable! Por favor, por favor!" you said, using puppy eyes to convince him.
He blushed at your compliment and was a little confused by your use of Spanish.
"Okay, okay! Whatever my baby wants!"
After buying the colorful monkeys and putting them on your heads, you also bought a cup of fruit with chamoy and miguelito, which Neil found delicious and exquisite. Holding hands, you two walked through the most crowded spots in the park, taking selfies with the pretty landscapes the trees made. Then, you had an excellent idea: 
"Neil, amor, do you want to go on a boat ride on the lake?"
He loved it when you called him "amor," so he immediately said yes. Hand in hand, you two were on your way to renting a tiny boat to get onto the lake. 
Once there you selected the cutest ride for two you found available: an adorable and maybe somewhat cheesy swan-shaped pedal boat, and sailed away. The puffy neon life jackets and the constant pedaling in order to make the boat move made this less romantic but nonetheless still fun. You and Neil laughed at the effort you had to put on, at the people in rowboats goofing around and passing you by and at the silly monkey plushies on your heads that didn't have to work their legs off and just enjoyed the ride like royalty. Soon enough, you reached a rather empty part of the lake, a christmas time miracle, it should have been bustling with people.
To take a break from pedaling the boat, you and Neil found the shade of a tree near the shore. You stopped there, taking in the view of the city in the distance and, when your eyes had your fill, you started to admire each other. Neil looked ridiculously handsome with the toy monkey perched upon his shaggy brown hair and the natural light on his baby blue eyes, his lips were delectably rosy thanks to the chili candy you had before. He chuckled, your stare blatant and so adorable.
“Like what you see, baby?” He flirted, you chuckled.
“I love it…” You smirked, leaning in carefully to kiss him. The tangy and slightly spicy flavor from the chamoy sauce and the sweet fruit juice still lingered upon him. His hand came up to touch your cheek, his thumb tracing slow, mindless patterns on your skin. 
The things your lips did to Neil were beyond this world. Nobody had ever kissed him like you did, nobody had ever made him feel what you made him feel. Everything ranging from love, devotion, sweetness and desire sparked in him. God, you were good. And so beautiful. And so cute. And so…
“Woah, baby…” Neil whispered, breaking the kiss when he felt a naughty little hand stroking down from his chest to his abdomen. A silent cue you had subconsciously trained him to understand. It meant that you wanted to take this further. And while Neil never had a problem when you did it in the privacy of his house or in the back of Gumshoe, in public it was a completely different thing. Much more while in a comically large swan boat on a lake.
“You don’t wanna?” You asked innocently, lifting your hand away from his belly, which, he found out, he incredibly missed right after. 
“Course I wanna… It's just that… Well, baby we’re on a swan… In the middle of a lake…” He whispered, his eyes darting around, looking for anybody that could see you, or worse, report you.
“Shhh, it’s ok. Nobody will see…” You whispered, a plan heavy on your tone of voice. Carefully, you took off your jacket and placed it over his lap and over the steering handle of the boat. Who would notice if you were reaching for your boyfriend’s hardening dick beneath the fabric when you could be just innocently controlling the boat?
“Oh, clever girl…” Neil whispered, nervousness easing his grip on him a little. Despite everything, he couldn’t deny how hard he was at the idea.
You smiled, and your right hand went to town. Neil’s jeans unbuttoned and unzipped with ease, the thick jacket covering what you did. The long neck of the swan boat also aided to hide your mischief. On the outside, you acted naturally, not even looking at the fuss you were causing, your sense of touch guiding you towards the right place.
Neil muffled out a little groan as he felt your hand on his cock, he looked around, there was nothing, just water and the adrenaline rushing inside him.
Pulling his length out of his boxers, you slowly started to stroke him, a soft whimper form him reminding you of the dryness of your hand.
“Oh, sorry. I have hand lotion in my bag, do you-”
“No… It’s only gonna look more suspicious, babe.” He interrupted you, his voice a little husky, already missing the warmth of your palm. “Go on, I can take it…”
“You know that's not true, Neil.” You rebuked, checking your surroundings right after for what you wanted to do. When no boat and no eyes were on sight, you gathered as much warm spit as you could inside your mouth, and in the blink of an eye, you uncovered his lap, spat right on his hard, aching cock and immediately covered it back on. Neil only had time to half-ass a little "what?" and groan quietly before he processed it all.
“Oh… Much better…” It was a soft, inaudible whisper disguised under the normalcy of any fleeting relief. Your hand snaked beneath the jacket once more and Neil swallowed thickly. You took the reins again. Slowly and so gently, you palmed from the base to the tip, Neil’s needy whimper swiftly disguised by the sound of the water splashing and crashing against the boat. 
”That's it, love." He encouraged in a whisper, his eyelashes fluttering despite his eyes' best efforts to stay vigilant. Your sticky spit eased your movements that were as slow as they were discreet. Nobody had to know, a secret for only you, Neil and the swan to keep.
When you would do this in his bedroom back in the States or in his office, the privacy allowed you the privilege of using both hands. One fist running up and down his throbbing cock and the other playing with his balls. It was a given that the attention you would give him now under that jean jacket would be less meticulous, unless you wanted a nice boat ride towards the park authorities and a possible arrest for disturbing public order. Neil’s only qualm about your homeland was the horror stories he heard about the jails there, so a reasonable sacrifice had to be made. Less pleasure in exchange for going back to your hotel room that night safe and with a clean criminal record. 
But you didn’t want to neglect him.
The oscillating touch of your hand on his dick left him for a second, and before he could whine, it was granted to his balls. Neil bit his plump lower lip, muffling out a moan. His hips bucked a bit in approval and he had to pretend to shift on the boat seat.
“Oh, God, baby…” He whispered, your hand buried deep in the denim tent massaging his balls with care, squeezing nicely and rubbing them with the remainder of your spit. His dick throbbed against the fabric, rough friction making him whine.
Alternating, your hand grabbed his dick again, giving him another full-length stroke. If it wasn’t for the waves, you’d hear his agitated breath and his struggle to play it cool. Another twitch from his cock, veins pumped madly against the feeling of your skin. Heaven knew just how much this man needed you. 
Your movements got a little faster, his throbbing cock was communicative, it always told you exactly what it wanted and when it wanted it. The rush coursing through him spiked when the water started to splash and ripple louder and louder, and innocent laughter and banter approached in the distance.
“Oh, God… Let’s move.” You whispered, caution activated at the impending coming of the other boat. When you moved your hand away from Neil´s dick, he whined and held your wrist from over the jacket.
“No, I’ll control it… You stay there…” He nearly begged, cheeks flushed. You nodded, and both sets of feet started to pedal away from the other boat.Your hand kept going, returning to his balls and fondling them, his hand, free of other occupations until now, found the boat handle, turning the boat in the opposite direction of the people enjoying their innocent boat ride.
Adrenaline took over, then mixed smoothly with the arousal. A mischievous pride sparked within you when warm drops of precum soaked your hand. What a naughty devil he was. 
Meters away from your swan and your public indecency, the tiny crowd of passengers, trapped in their own little world, laughed. They had their own little party in there, telling random jokes and screaming. Slowly, the sound started to fade away for good, the last thing you heard clearly was a voice yelling “selfie” and a madrigal repeating after them. Still, you kept pedaling, your feet-hand coordination not shining for its precision. The harder you pedaled away from people, the faster you pumped Neil’s cock. 
Neil muffled out a whimper, his feet nearly faltered with a simple pedaling motion. More precum came out to lube him up, urging you on.
Away and alone once more, your hand kept pumping him up, from base to tip, coating you in deliciously filthy secretions. His tip was sensitive, you took advantage. Your thumb circled around the head, he could swear he could feel the ridges of your fingerprint driving him insane. His hips gradually started to buck, baby blues stared into the distance and fought off the need to close in pleasure, lips sealed with an enamel grip on the pink flesh, muffling out any suspicious sounds.
His hand, with its mission of commanding the boat away fulfilled, now found rest over your closest thigh, finding something to grip harder and harder. You kept working him up, forcing the tip to brush against the denim fibers and sending shudders down his spine. 
“Baby…” His whisper intertwined with a rough groan, he was fighting hard in that swan boat seat. The more you stroked and gently twisted him in the confines of your jacket, the more his cock twitched. He had to repeat himself, this was a warning. You would have to hide the inside of that jacket well afterwards.
The Chapultepec lake rippled beneath you, the distant skyscrapers looked over like gods as your sweet boyfriend sank his nails on your clothed thigh and took everything so well. A good few twists of your wrist over his sensitive tip were enough. 
His lip nearly bled from how hard he sank his teeth on it, his hips bucked, the denim and the shape of the swan hid it as best as it could. A familiar warmth poured down your hand and fingers and stuck to your jacket. Neil whined pathetically, his face went so red he looked drunk. Drunk on you and your skillful little hand. 
Spurts of hot cum coated everywhere they could, your now ruined denim jacket serving as a makeshift cumrag with a slightly rougher texture that made him whimper quietly when you cleaned him off. Your criminal hand tucked him back in with a politeness that could have made him chuckle. Oh, you. So sweet even after committing a felony against good morals and making him cum. Even in his haze, he loved it. Before the boat with the selfie crew caught you, you leaned towards the lake, dipping your hand in the water like a curious child and pedaling so the waves washed you themselves. A part of Neil was now part of the Chapultepec lake. He was ingrained in Mexico forevermore. 
“Jesus, baby…” Neil whispered, watching as the unknowing boat passed you by. Post orgasmic clarity shining down on him like an epiphany. He looked around, discreetly, like those spies in the old movies. No judgemental stares, no naughty chuckles, and most importantly, no police.
“You good?” You asked so innocently it made him smile. He nodded, recovery suiting him well.
“Yeah… Think we got lucky this time…” He murmured, perhaps a bit afraid of counting his chickens before they hatched. 
“Let’s hope that luck lasts us the whole trip.” You teased, of course you did. Neil sometimes feared how brave and bold you could be. He chuckled.
“Well, baby, how many lakes do you want to get touchy on?” He joked nervously, dorkily, aware that his own desires would let you do as you pleased anywhere. It was you who chuckled now.
“Just this one, amor. But we still have to go stay at my parents´ house, remember?”
Oh, your parents´ house... Now that’s a place where Neil would need that luck. In all senses. For finally meeting your family in person, and for being stealthy enough to get you in bed without anybody hearing a thing. God help him...
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Pinterest board to envision this date!
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whenmemorydies · 7 months ago
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Lessons of a mentor: every second counts
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The Bear brainrot continues unabated and a character that has been sitting at the back of my mind since I first watched 2x07 Forks has been Chef Terry. Her influence is felt in a multitude of ways throughout season 2, most notably via the impact she's had on her former chefs, Carmen and Luca. What fascinates me more about Chef Terry though are the parallels between her and Syd and the home truths that both these powerhouse women keep dropping (and which many a loudmouth dude on this show keep missing...*womp*).
Lots more under the cut. This is a long post but this show is so bloody juicy I couldn't help myself!
Who is Chef Terry?
So quick recap: Chef Terry is the Executive Chef at Ever, a 3-Michelin starred restaurant in Chicago, loosely based on and shot on location at the actual Ever. In the show, the restaurant opened in 2012 and was awarded "the best restaurant in the world" that same year.
In 2x07 Forks as Richie walks past portraits of Ever's alumni, we learn that both Carmen and Chef Luca (now based in Copenhagen, Denmark) both worked at the restaurant together, under Chef Terry. This is previously hinted at in 2x04 Honeydew when Luca talks to Marcus about working with a chef who worked "harder and faster than [Luca] ever could," and who inadvertently pushed Luca to get "better than [Luca] possibly could be, just from trying to keep up with him."
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Chefs Carmen and Luca at Ever.
In 2x07 Forks, we get Chef Terry's origin story as she recounts it to Richie, who Carmy has sent to Ever to stage for a week. We learn that:
Chef Terry, like Richie and Syd, is an only child. She likely had a tense relationship with her father (who we learn was a Corporal in the military) before he passed, but is incredibly close with her mother, her only living parent.
Carm getting Richie a spot to stage at Ever was not a favour because Chef Terry doesn't do favours:
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Chef Terry is quick to praise folks who try to learn. Note when she asks Richie if he'd like to peel mushrooms with her and she tells him that his first attempt is great (despite the fact that process-wise, he peels them in the exact opposite direction she does):
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She had previously tried to open "a giant place" years ago when she was younger, and by her own description, "was on fire [and was] arrogant." Chef Terry then says she moved too fast and couldn't keep the place open.
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She later opened Ever after coming across the building's "For Lease" sign while walking.
Its clear from her conversation with Richie about Ever's beginnings that Chef Terry is a firm believer in it never being too late to try again:
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But for me, the most important thing we learn about Chef Terry in the 5 minutes she's on screen with us, is her belief in time being well spent. When Richie first sees Chef Terry, she's quietly peeling mushrooms by herself in the kitchen. When Richie asks her why she's doing this work, instead of a stage, we get this lovely bit of dialogue:
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Chef Terry then goes on to tell Richie about her father and how he kept pocket notebooks in which he made hundreds of entries about different experiences while he was on military tour.
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While Chef Terry never tells Richie how her father signed off on each of his pocket notebook entries, its implied by the end of the episode, that The Bear's mantra of "every second counts" originates from those very notebooks.
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This was revelatory to me. Up until Chef Terry and Richie's conversation in 2x07 Forks, "every second counts" in this show was synonymous with Carmy's "sense of urgency", taped to the pass in 1x02 Hands and tattooed across his knuckles in the form of "S O U".
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Prior to 2x07 Forks, "every second counts" was wrapped up in the frenetic pace of a restaurant's back of house, with Mikey dying well before his time and by his own hand, with the panicked need to fix the regret and broken-heartedness that accompanied years of estrangement, with Donna's litany of cooking timers going off every other minute in a kitchen covered in chaos and passata. It had to do with time slipping away and the persistent, but always losing battle to try and steal it back.
But in Chef Terry's conversation with Richie, it is made clear to the audience that the lesson in "every second counts" is not about speed or clawing anything back. Those notebook entries were not made for any other reason than to describe, remember, and step into a moment. Chef Terry peels mushrooms at first light in her restaurant because it attaches her to her work and connects her to those whose bellies she fills with her food. "Every second counts" is about savouring every second that we have, while we have it, and being present in each of those moments, as much as we can.
Its about realising that every second does count because every second has meaning.
Time spent informed by this knowledge, is time well spent.
Lessons and Parallels with Sydney
Like Chef Terry, Sydney also tried to run her own business, Sheridan Road, but it "got too big too fast", and she was unable to keep up with its demands. As she tells Carmy in 1x05 Sheridan,
My credit got destroyed. I mean, my whole shit got rocked.
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The failures of both of their respective businesses pushed both women into the depths of existential crisis. Chef Terry tells Richie how she had been "unemployed, angry, depressed", and "blaming everybody else for all the time I'd lost."
While Sydney never makes an admission like this about the fallout of Sheridan Road, the depth of the impact of that failure on her is clearly apparent in the show, most notably in 2x09 Omelette. In this episode, Syd's father Emmanuel asks her why she is putting so much pressure on herself to be successful with The Bear. Syd responds, its because she doesn't know if she could start another business.
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Later in the same episode, we hear Syd's even more vulnerable admission to Carm about her fear of failure, under that pretense for intimacy table.
Like Chef Terry, Sydney does not do favours. Recall when she fixed Tina's bouquet garni-infused cream in 1x04 Dogs after the latter kept ignoring Syd's advice on how to prep the mashed potatoes and ended up ruining her first batch of cream in the process:
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Also, bonus Fak attack (lol) from the same episode:
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But also like Chef Terry, Syd is generous with her praise when folks try - as opposed to only praising those who succeed. The praise is for the attempt in the moment to grow, not in the growth itself. Recall in 1x02 Hands as Syd calls out orders to Ebra, he falters and says back the wrong count. Syd gently corrects him and Ebra tries again, after which Syd says,
Gorgeous. Thank you, chef.
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Its a small moment, but its one of the first times we hear the word "gorgeous" used inside The Beef. You can literally see Carmy's shock at the utterance, at the firm kindness of the exchange between Syd and Ebra. I personally like to think this might also be a moment of recognition for him, where he sees an echo of his mentor, Terry, in the woman he's about to hire as his sous chef.
And finally, of all the characters on this show, the one who seems to best understand that every second counts because every second has meaning, is Sydney. To me this is epitomised by her omnipresent notebooks in which she's always writing, clearly echoing Chef Terry's father and his will to remember the detail.
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Sydney's question to her father in 2x09 Omelette is also indicative to me of a person who understands that each moment we have on this tiny blue dot is precious. When Emmanuel tells her that he doesn't think she needs to make everything "the thing" because she will always have his support, Sydney asks him,
Why can't we put everything that we have into everything that we can?
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I've no doubt that Sydney's ethos, embodied by this question, is the result of the passing of her mother when she was a child. With that loss, Sydney would have learned from a young age that every second is important. She knows that you can't get more time, so you make the most of that which you have. Or in her words, you put everything you have, into everything that you can.
Its striking to me how differently Syd and Carm have interpreted the intention behind "every second counts" in the context of death and bereavement. Sydney moves through life with a drive borne out of knowing that our lives are finite and so every second contains the potential for possibility. Its why she had the guts to start her own business, had the optimism to apply to work at The Beef under a culinary hero, and had the hope to take a punt with The Bear.
In contrast to this, Carmy rails against time: at the time that he lost with Mikey, at the seconds that he might lose with each hiccup that delays a plate on the pass. For him, there's never enough time because it is constantly being snatched away.
He tells us in 2x03 Sundae that he struggles with being present in the moment and open to the world because he is always waiting for "the other shoe to drop",
I have to remind myself to breathe sometimes. I have to remind myself to be present, you know. Remind myself that the sky is not falling, that there is no other shoe. Which is incredibly difficult because there is always another shoe. I dunno, I think, you know maybe if I could provide more-more-more amusement or-or enjoyment for myself, it would be easier to provide for others, you know.
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This isn't to say that Carmy isn't trying. Throughout the show, we've seen glimpses of him stopping to sit within a moment: his making time to talk to Richie about purpose in 2x01 Beef, his constant beckoning to Sydney to "say more" in both seasons 1 and 2, his return to art and drawing in season 2 - an act that physically forces you to slow down and observe detail, his repeated attempts to check in with Natalie about how she's doing despite his discomfort at the question, and most obviously, taking the time to softly, intentionally and unhurriedly comfort a worried Sydney with less than 25 minutes to open on the opening night of their restaurant.
To me, there are a number of reasons why its no surprise that Carmy is drawn to Sydney. I've mentioned a few here in this reply to @mod-doodles. Chief among them though are her consistency, her stability, and her integrity, all informed by Sydney's ethos of putting everything she has into everything she can; into making every second count, just like Carm would have seen his mentor Chef Terry do while he was at Ever.
I reckon Carmy's ultimate challenge in The Bear is going to be getting to the realisation that Chefs Terry, Sydney and even Luca (recall his chat about "openness" with Marcus in 2x04 Honeydew) have already reached: that because every second counts, happiness and peace - indeed amusement and enjoyment - are to be found in the doing, in the process, in the getting there, together. I'm sure by the end of our journey with these lovingly crafted characters, Carm will get there too.
Author's note:
Incidental to the above is this show's God-tier level casting. Storer and Calo have made it a point to cast famous and immensely talented actors in some of the smallest parts on this show...why? I'm thinking specifically of the casting of Jamie Lee Curtis as matriarch/walking emotional vortex Donna Berzatto and Olivia Colman as Capo/Chef Terry. Jamie Lee Curtis appears in The Bear throughout one full episode (2x06 Fishes) and in one scene (with everyone's favourite unproblematic king, Pete) in 2x10 The Bear. Olivia Colman appears in the show for just under 5 minutes, at the end of 2x07 Forks.
I reckon that, while the speaking parts for these characters are relatively small compared to other roles in The Bear, the casting choices here are reflective of the impact of these two characters on Carmen (in particular) and others on the show. The showrunners needed to cast folks whose reputations would precede them in order to instil in us, the audience, the same gravity of their presence as would be felt by the characters in the world of The Bear.
Donna Berzatto:
Donna's impact on the psyches of her children is huge. For evidence of this, watch the faces of Carmen, Natalie and Mikey whenever they're in proximity to their mother in 2x06 Fishes. They are constantly watching her, gauging her reactions and her levels. This is most clearly the case for Natalie who spends most of Fishes in a state of panicked fear, anticipating her mother's every move. Who better to cast as the anxiety-inducing-word-slurring-flirtatious-alcoholic Berzatto matriarch than scream queen, 80s/90s sex symbol and survivor of intergenerational substance abuse, Jamie Lee Curtis?
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Chef Terry:
In contrast to Donna, Terry is a stable, consistent force of nature who has mentored successive waves of chefs that have walked through Ever's halls. She's overcome setbacks and had to relaunch herself, doing so with great success, while remaining grounded. While Olivia Colman's been plugging at acting on screen for over twenty years, she didn't reach the height of fame that she's currently enjoying until much later in her career and her life. By many public accounts, she's an incredibly talented, kind and down to earth A-lister. Also this interview with her is so Chef Terry coded I wouldn't be surprised if Calo and Storer read it and offered her the role the next day:
“There’s some amazing actors who don’t get asked back because they don’t behave very nicely,” she said. “Learn your lines, try and know everyone’s name, be on time … There’s a million people who would have your job in a second and more … who are better than you. Take your job seriously and not yourself.”
Without naming names, Colman said: “We all have actor stories of people who were unpleasant, unkind, ungenerous – and it goes around.”
Nor should actors ever become too grand to take on even a short film, she suggested: “Some people might think: ‘I don’t do that any more.’ I think that’s exciting to do. You’re going to meet new people or a new writer who might remember you later on … [Do] not get too up yourself, too grand. Work is work. If I now decided: ‘Oh, I will only do feature films,’ I might not work again.
“If you get accolades for something, enjoy it for a bit, but put it aside and pretend that hasn’t happened a week later. You still need to work and no one else will remember it either after a week. So crack on.”
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Yes, Jamie Lee Curtis and Olivia Colman are fantastic actresses who could have acted the pants off their respective roles without their own personal backstories and filmographies doing any lifting...but given the limited time that they're on screen, having actresses who can bring all of that history and shorthand to the role is GOLD for quickly creating meaning and depth for the audience.
As soon as Donna first turned that corner in the kitchen in 2x06 Fishes chaotically balancing a tray of branzino in one hand and a cigarette in the other, yammering about spilling shit everywhere, I knew I was in for a ride. Likewise, as soon as Chef Terry gently suggested where Richie might find the polish he was looking for (instead of biting his head off because he was a mere stage and she was Capo), I knew I needed to be seated for the lesson that 2x07 Forks had been building up to all episode (and indeed that Richie's entire character arc had been building up to for almost two seasons). And phew...did these two brilliant women absolutely deliver.
K that's the end. If you made it this far, DM me because you are probably incredibly patient, kind and like to read and I need more of that energy in my life LOL. Thanks for spending some of your precious time with me <3.
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eyesxxyou · 1 year ago
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❝ nude bodies ❞ (artist!hobie x trans ftm!reader)
。゚・ ¡ content. friends to lovers, a little bit of awkwardness, oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), reader has a t-dick, very sweet sex (bordering on love making), creampie, hobie gets a little sappy at the end. you've been long time best friends with hobie for years, both secretly pining after each other. you both think nothing will ever come of your feelings until hobie asks to draw you nude.
wc: 5k
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The sun was hot on your face. The rough sound of pencil meeting paper tickled your ears. Hobie hummed a soft tune while his hand carved out the rough shapes of your face into paper. His eyes kept flicking from his sketchbook to you, his gaze lingering on your closed eyes before wandering a little lower to trace the shape of your honeydew lips.
He reached out, his hand tenderly caressing the side of your face to get you to turn your head to the slightest degree so that the sun hit your face at just the right angle to make you glow honey gold. He touched you like a masterpiece, one of the old greats, like you would crumble if pressed too hard. His thumb traced your lip and you shivered ever so slightly.
“Have ya ever though’ of letting me draw ya nude?” Hobie had a way of saying things. Careless or carefree, you chose because he doesn't have the energy to do it himself, too busy drawing or playing the guitar.
You open your eyes, a deep frown painting itself across your honeydew lips. “You want to draw me what?” You sat up on your arms and Hobie sat up with you on his knees, his hand on your chest to push you back down onto the smooth wood of his deck. “Nude. Was I no’ loud enough? Keep still, dove. ‘m no’ done.”
You sigh and relent, laying back in the sun with your head tilted towards him to catch the golden rays. Hobie settled back down beside you and began sketching again.
You won't say Hobie didn't rattle something within you. Nude was intimate, nude meant vulnerable, nude meant served on a platter with all your feelings splayed out so brazenly before him. You couldn't hide anything from him while naked, couldn't hide how every gentle touch of his warm fingertips made your heart leap and your groin ache with feelings you’re forced to call want. You couldn't hide from his wandering gaze powdered with the stark neutrality of someone who didn't care either way.
“Why would you want to draw me naked?” You try not to move too much while you talk, try not to make a big deal out of his request. Why would he want to draw your body? Your body didn't look like everyone else's, the crescent-shaped twin scars cupping your chest made sure of that. Not to mention all the changes gone on between your legs. You’re not the most ideal person in the world to draw nude according to every societal standard.
But Hobie wasn't one to care about a social standard. “Why wouldn' I? I draw ya all the time. Yer my lovely lil muse.” He touched his pencil behind his ear and set his sketchbook down closed beside him. He shifted himself, laid down right beside you with his head propped up on his hand, looking down on you as you lay below him.
Hobie reached out and pinched your cheek. “Jus’ think ‘bout i’. No pressure. I wan’cha to be comfortable with the idea.” He lied down completely beside you, just the two of you lying on the deck of his boat, shirtless, arms touching all the way from shoulder down to the backs of your hands. You could grab his hand if you wanted to. He could grab yours. Your finger twitches with the idea of it. But that's not what friends do.
“What would happen if I agreed?” You asked timidly. Hobie turned his head, eyes carefully tracing the lines of your side profile. “We’d wait a week before we did anythin’. Jus’ in case you became a chicken and wan’ed to back ou’.” He teased as he always did and that set you at ease as you turned your head to meet his gaze.
His deep-set eyes traced the contours of your face with dedication and admiration. If you hadn't known any better you might have said he did it lovingly. But he was an artist at the end of the day and your best friend. Any love he had beyond a platonic one was for what you do for his art. “You bring it to life.” He once said. He did not love you the way you loved him. You were sure of it.
“Lemme finish this piece then we can grab a bite, yeah?” Hobie sat up and placed his hand on your chest, patting you the way a friend pats another in the back. He doesn't let his touch linger even though every atom of your body begged and pleaded for him to just touch you, touch you anywhere, you didn't care where. Just let it stay there, let it linger a little longer, let it hold so you might know that he's real and he’s yours.
You consider it while he draws with your eyes closed and your hands resting on your belly, tracing imaginary lines and imagining it’s Hobie doing it with the tips of his nimble fingers. He wouldn't make it weird, wouldn't tease you about it for the rest of your lives, wouldn't embarrass you by telling others. That's not how he is. It would just be between the two of you, from one man to another.
Hobie sits beside you in silence, hoping he didn't ruin anything you two had, the soft progress you have made with each other years in the making. He’s been dropping hints for years now, the obvious ones only made in the last few months. Unnecessary lingering touches, brushing his hand against yours to give you the opportunity to grab on and stay that way. He holds your face so softly so fucks sake, leans in so close he might just kiss you but leaves it to you to make the final move. You never do. He called you his muse, told you his art is nothing without you and yet you still look at him with that blank, oblivious look in your eyes that makes him want to tell you straight up that he’s in love with you. You’d probably still tilt your head like a puppy, confused and unknowing.
His eyes lavish over your body, every piece of exposed skin being feasted upon by his greedy gaze. Your eyes are closed, you’d never know. He wants to trace his fingers along your scars, kiss them, kiss you, feel your skin on his and know you a little more than he already does.
“I’ll do it.” You concede. “You can’t show it to anyone though. I’d die of humiliation.”
“Never planned to, dove.” Hobie smiled. “It’ll just be between me ‘n you. It’s just anatomy practice.” Anatomy practice sounded good, sounded reasonable, sounded like he wasn't just trying to find any excuse to witness you naked. Did it make him sick, perverted, what he’d end up doing with that drawing as he did with nearly all his other drawings of you? Did it make him bad that he’d end up with his hand firmly wrapped around his cock, pleading for a single moment, a single chance? Did it make him wrong that he’d ruin the page with cum and would have to redraw it all over again?
You remind him, “I don't have regular anatomy.”
“I don't need regular, dove.” Hobie looks up from his sketchbook, flipping his pencil to erase a small imperfection in his work. “I just need you.”
-
Hobie gave you a week. An entire week to reconsider and yet you remained steadfast in your decision. It wouldn't be weird. Hobie has a way of making awkward situations completely comfortable with his light-heartedness. He never took anything seriously so why should you?
Boarding his boat meant accepting wholly that you’d be naked in front of him and a part of you, while nervous, was comfortable with that. If you were to be naked in front of anyone in the entire world, you’d want it to be your best friend, the person you trust most in this world.
Hobie was waiting for you inside, guitar in lap while strumming some cords to a melody he was humming. You kicked your shoes off at the door and let it slam shut behind you as if it were sealing you in. You can't back out now. You had promised.
Hobie put his guitar down on it’s display rack and tossed the pick into a small box of picks he had sitting on a small table beside his bed. “Mr. Punctuality ova here. I wasn' expectin’ ya fo’ anotha hour.” He hopped down from the ledge he was sitting on, stumbling a bit but ultimately landing on his feet. He came over and tossed an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body for a half-hearted hug.
“You told me to come at 1.”
“But when I say tha’ I really mean 2. You know ion run on other people's time.” He offered a cheeky little dimpled smile across those dark lips of his that you adored more than you could ever say. He rubbed your shoulder a little before patting it and letting you go. You wanted to run back to him, to tell him to embrace you once more but fully this time. You didn't want to embarrass yourself by doing so.
“Are ya sure ya do this?” He offered you one last chance to back out before the two of you started. “We can always stop if ya feel uncomfortable,” he assured you.
You nodded slowly, lips curling into a soft, self-assuring smile. “I’m okay. Let’s do this.” Your heart beat so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat and hear it in your ears. You balled your hands into fists, thumbs in your palms, squeezing with anxiety. You trusted him, knew he would do nothing to make you feel uncomfortable.
“I’ll be back in a momen’, you can get on the bed when you’re ready.” Hobie went to leave to afford you some privacy. You appreciated his thoughtfulness and watched him go with a shaky breath. You wrung your hands, grasping the hem of your shirt to sooth yourself before you began.
You started with your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding it up neatly before placing it on the edge of Hobie’s bed. That was soon followed by your pants, then your underwear. You’re not used to being naked, especially not in Hobie’s boathouse. You felt vulnerable, your hands immediately went to cup your love and cover yourself without so much as a second thought.
You climbed up onto Hobie’s bed and covered yourself with his duvet, waiting for him to return so that you can get this over with. You tell yourself it’s for anatomy practice, that it’s nothing more than that. But there’s something oddly intimate about being wrapped up in his planets, lying in his bed with his deep, musky scent permeating your senses and soothing your raging nerves.
You lay there with your face pressed into his pillow awaiting Hobie’s return. Your fingers gripped his sheets, twisting and fingering the fabric anxiously as you watch the door crack open and Hobie’s head poke inside to ensure you’re properly prepared. He saw you curled up in his bed and smiled with a tender softness. “You ready?”
You nodded, nipping at your bottom lip. Hobie came shuffling in, closing the door behind himself gently. He rummaged about his flat, grabbing his sketchbook and a sharpened pencil before coming over to you in his bed.
Hobie climbed in with you, shuffling over to kneel beside your covered body. He set his sketchbook down and carefully reached out to grasp the edge of the blanket you had covered your modesty up with. “May I?” His eyes were soft looking upon you, they ask for permission too, ask for you to let your guard down for just a moment. They ask for you to trust him
You do. You trust him wholeheartedly. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you nod subtly and let go of the blanket. You let him peel it away from you but your hands return between your legs to keep yourself covered.
“Jus' relax f’me, dove.” His slender fingers grasped your wrists, carefully and gently pulling them away from your tender lips. You don't resist him, you let him take your hands in his and remove them from the spot where you find yourself feeling the most vulnerable. There's something about his touches that feels more intimate than before. Your nudity amplified every caress of his hand against your skin. You could feel it linger throughout your body.
Hobie gazed at you, his eyes scanning down the length of your trembling body, hitching at your chest and groin for just a lingering moment. You don’t hear the way he murmurs soft prayers under his breath, a plea for strength, for the worthiness to admire such a sacred body in its most bare state.
Starting the sketch was the hardest part. Hobie was used to touching you, holding your face, dragging a finger along the curve of your jaw, his fingertips kissing your eyelids, tracing the underside of your lips. He was a physical learner and with time, he knew your face like he knew his own palm, all the lines and shadows that made it up.
But he didn’t know your body. Not the way he wanted to.
You could see the frustration crossing his face as he turned his pencil and erased his work for the second time, “Is there anything I can do to help?” Your voice was timid and beautiful, ringing with an air of genuine concern. You hadn’t expected Hobie to ask to touch you.
“F’r visual purposes only. I don’ – know ya body yet. No’ like I know ya face.” His hands wrung against his lap, refraining from making himself too comfortable with your pretty body. He imagined your skin would be soft beneath his palms, supple as he dipped his graphite-covered fingers into your flesh. “You don’t have’ta.”
“You can.” You say almost too quickly. Did he catch the desperation in your voice? Did he catch the way you leaned in just a little further, the way you crossed your legs at the mere thought of his hands stroking down the length of your bare skin. Had you given yourself away? Had you shown all of your cards like an amateur?
You watched Hobie place his things down and come over to climb back onto the bed with you. You sat up and let out a startled little gasp. Hobie was suddenly closer than you had expected, sitting beside you with his hands on either side of your legs to prop himself up.
“Jus’ tell me when t’stop, yeah?”
He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help but to touch. Hobie started at your face, the familiarity of it offering you ease and comfort. His hand cupped your cheek. Brushing a soft thumb under your eyes, palm cupping along your jaw and his thumb moving up slightly to skim over your soft eyelid. The pads of his fingers move to your lips, tracing them left to right, right to left. His eyes flick between your lips and your coy gaze, too shy to fully meet his every time he looks at you.
His other hand skimmed at your waist. His fingertips touching at your chest, tracing your scars with such loving care. Hobie likes the way you shiver under his touch, likes the way your body rolls as he makes his way lower to your belly where your happy trail begins, leading lower and lower. He doesn’t go all the way though you so desperately wished he would.
His hand touches your thigh, the other trailing down your shoulder, to your elbow, to your hand where his fingers slip beneath yours. Before you know it, your fingers are laced with his. There was something so innocent about it, something so beautiful and soft. His hand on your thigh, tracing circles into your flesh felt just as innocent in the beginning. But his fingers were trailing .along your inner thigh, gripping the flesh there with something far darker that anything platonic.
It was hard not to melt into his touch, a touch so hot that it left your skin burning where he met it. Your chest burned with desire. Your gaze, a little more brazen now, showed as much. You swallowed thickly as you caught Hobie’s gaze and suddenly you were doing just the same as him, staring at that lip piercing that glinted under the dim lighting of his bedroom.
It was the same thought that crossed your minds.
“Can I kiss ya?”
“For your drawing, right?”
Hobie nodded slowly, leaning in with a subtle tilt of his head. His lips hovered slightly over yours, not exactly kissing you but not, not kissing you either. “Yeah…for the drawin’.” He whispered against your lips, taking them with his. He kissed you like he’s been waiting for this moment since he’s known you. Kissed you like he needed this, kiss you in a way that said “if you stop, I’ll die.”
He can't help the way his hands wander, touching you in places he'd never even dreamt of touching in the first place as his hands grow more greedy. His hands trail everywhere, feeling your skin grow warm under his touch as he commits every brush of skin against skin.
You could feel a heat pool between your legs, your pussy ached and your dick throbbed to attention with each inch gained by Hobie’s fingers closer to your wanton core. You spread your legs for him, silent permission for him to touch where he pleased and where you craved.
Hobie did not touch you there, not yet. His hand held your waist and his lips began to trace a trail down the side of your neck, placing sloppy, open mouth kisses on your exposed flesh leading down to your chest. He peppered kisses along the crescents of your scars, worshiping exactly where they cut into you and made you a little more of who you are.
His lips pressed kisses down your naval. His hand gripped yours tighter. “Lay back, luv.” His free hand pushed you back gently, coaching you to lie in the mess of pillows stained with his scent. Hobie held your smaller hand, pressing it into the mattress, his free hand still roaming and touching and studying your warm body.
How could he possibly go back to pencil and paper after this? His drawings could never satisfy him now that he’s gotten a taste of the real thing. His art was meaningless now, served no purpose now that your flesh was beneath his tongue, in his hands, gripping, touching, loving.
He’s come on your face a thousand times over in his mind, on his page. But he could not bear the idea of sullying your sacred body with such degeneracy. Hobie would only touch, only please. He would come last.
He settled himself between your legs, his hand parting them a little further until your pretty, wet lips parted with a nice, creamy sound. You turned your head away, embarrassed but Hobie found it quite lovely. You are hard and wet for him, your sweet, little cock firm behind the hood.
Hobie kissed your pelvis just above your t-dick, ending his journey to where you desired him the most. He glanced up at you and found your eyes cast away with what could only read as humiliation.
“C’mon, dove, look a’ me.” He kissed the tip of your dick and smiled as you shuddered with something of a pathetic moan. You willed yourself to look at him with timid eyes. Hobie kissed your tip again, his fingers pulling back your hood to give him more space to work. His tongue licked firm strokes between your soaked lips all the way up to your pretty cock which he licks then takes into his mouth.
He sucked on the engorged bundle of nerves, swollen and sensitive on his tongue. Hobie worships the way you cry a little, your back arching from the sheets, his tongue stroking lick after lick against the tip, each one sending jolts of pleasure throughout your heated body.
You placed one of your hands on the back of his head, not applying pressure but to give him a few encouraging scratches to his scalp. “Just like that, keep going.” Your body shows all its cards and you couldn't care in the slightest. Breathless moans and soft whimpers keep him going, keeps him sucking your pretty dick with his tongue occasionally lapping at your sweet little hole.
Hobie used his fingers to stroke between your pussy lips where you ached the most. It was easy to ease a finger in with how utterly soaked you were and with a few slow pumps, the second finger was not too far behind.
He took his time with you, unraveling you like a gift splayed out before him. He could rush, he could take what he needed but he wanted this to be slow, intimate. He needed to tell you just how much he worshiped his body of yours, how much he valued every piece of flesh you offered up to him. He needed to study you, inside and out.
Your hushed moans were beautiful and the whines the broke out between them were just the same. “My lil’ muse.” He hummed against your cock, kissing it and the flesh around it in an act of praise. His fingers worked in and out of you, curled in search of that gummy little ridge that would send you into orbit and make this all the better for you.
He knew he found it when you let out a nice, little, high-pitched moan and your whole body lept. Hobie chuckled softly, much to your dismay and rubbed you at your sweet spot right where you needed him.
“Why– fuck~ why are you always…so mean. L-laughing at me ‘n all.” You pant out, hips bucking against his soaked fingers, all your pretty, little parts rubbing against his knuckles.
“On the contrary, I think ‘m bein’ rather nice, don' you?” He kissed your belly, slowly making his way back up your body to find your lips again. “I only wanna be sweet wit’cha, luv.” His lips pecked yours once, twice, before he kissed you fully again. His fingers thrust into you, his thumb playing with your dick to keep you nice and stimulated. “You don't think ‘m bein’ sweet?”
You shook your head and he pressed his fingers into your sweet spot to make you gasp. “I-I think you’re the meanest person I know, Hobes.” You wrapped an arm around his neck to pull him in, your lips still stealing kisses from one another. “I think you’re mean peck ‘cause peck it’s your fingers inside me and not peck you.”
“I can change tha’. I can be so nice t’ya.”
You’re lucky he’s in his pajamas and not his entire getup. It’s easy to get him to pull himself out of his pants enough to reveal his length to you. He’s thick and long, nothing to make a passing statement at. He slips his fingers from your eager cunt and uses them to drag along the tip of his cock, spreading it down his length with a few sloppy strokes against his palm.
Hobie pulled you closer. You settled back against his pillows, whining a little when Hobie pulled his hand away from yours to brace himself against you. You toss your arms over his shoulders and around his neck. Your gaze is a bit more confident looking into his and Hobie kisses you softly.
You're dripping, trembling as he drags the tip of his thick cock between your soaked lips. He teased you, pressing the tip into your sopping entrance before pulling away. It coats him, your wetness, making it easier for him to slowly inch his way inside. He stretches you slowly and your nails sink into his back. You bury your face into his neck, muffling your moans.
His hands caress your body, holding you tight as if he craved that same warmth from you as well. His hips pressed flush against yours, his cock buried deep within you. He lets you adjust while he familiarizes himself with your tight cavern. Your walls hug him, imprinting every vein, every groove of him. Soft and welcoming like you've been waiting to invite him in since forever.
You two stare at each other, the warmth of one’s breath breezing over the other's supple skin. "Move." You encourage, nudging your nose against his. His hands tightened on your waist as he pulled his hips back until only the tip remained inside before surging them forward. He liked being soft with you, liked touching you like you were one of his drawings, like you would smudge if he pressed too hard.
You didn't mind slow or careful. It made you feel all that more special, like you were worth taking up that time where he could be doing other things. He kept his strokes paced, gentle. The soft slapping of skin mingles with your moans that fill the room.
"Hobie~" You claw at his back, leaving your mark on him in bright red lines that cover his skin. His cock filled you to the brim, pressing every point of pleasure along the way to his tip kissing your cervix. Hobie’s size was nothing to laugh at. He touched places never before discovered, his hips rutting into yours in firm, paced strokes.
He pressed his against the side of your head. Your shampoo was nice, lavender and vanilla he supposed. Hobie made a mental note to write that down in his sketchbook with all his other notes about you.
Hobie smelled like subtle cologne and natural musk. It's comforting, not overwhelming or violently invading your nose. You kiss his neck, along his sharp jaw, and over his prominent Adams Apple. Your teeth nip softly over his supple flesh, easily able to leave hickeys on his skin, smooth as paper.
Your moans are like music to his ears. High-pitched and uneven. With each thrust, he's rewarded with such a beautiful sound. You chew on your bottom lip in attempt to contain them but he doesn't like it. "Uh-uh, I wanna hear you. Don't deny me such a beautiful sound." He reaches up and pulls your lip from your teeth with his own. A spark.
Hobie took your hand with his much larger one and laced your fingers with his like before. He pinned your hand to the bed, rubbing off graphite onto your skin, his mark on you, his love on you. “Am I nice enough now?”
You nod, “so nice~”. You sighed out, pulling him in and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “So good.” You murmured against his skin, sucking on that piece of flesh to calm yourself. His strokes were deep, solid, unquestionable in his dedication to his craft.
He kisses your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, then your lips, a innocent little kiss that belies the way he’s fucking you right now, his pelvis rubbing your dick with every roll of his hips.
His hand touches the side of your face, skimming it, holding it, worshiping it as if he were drawing. Your eyes fluttered softly, your lips parted to let out a shaky breath and your eyes admire him the way he admires you, like an artist looking at its masterpiece.
Hobie’s hand trails down the length of your body and reaches between your bodies to touch your dick. He strokes it between his fingers, smirking at the way you cry into the bend of his neck and take the time to bite. You sink your teeth into smooth muscle, tongue lavishing over smoother skin. You’ll undoubtedly lean your mark and he wouldn't have it any other way.
You were so sweet too, so sweet to tell him before you came in short, fast pants. You begged in soft “please”s for him to keep going. “Jus’ like that.” Your legs hooked over his slender hips to keep him in close.
Your mind went hazy with the rush of your climax, your body tensed and rolled with the waves of it. That pretty pussy of your clamped down around Hobie’s full cock, stroking him in beautiful subtly pulses that coaxed him towards his own orgasm.
“Ya wan’ me to cum wit’cha, pretty boy?”
You nod and whine, nails sinking into the back of his neck. Your legs tuck in and pull his hips closer and oh those silky walls of your milked him so nice and thoroughly he couldn't help but to cum.
Hobie didn't mean to cum inside, didn't mean to sully your body with his spunk. He didn't want to ruin you, ruin the temple of your body but God, he couldn't help it and you weren't letting him move.
And oh, he didn't mean to get so sappy, didn't mean to lift your intertwined hands and kiss the back of yours as he came deep inside, hot cum rushing to fill you to the brim. He sighed with pleasure and contentment and looked you in the eyes. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, luv. My lil’ muse.”
He rolled over with you still holding on to him, slipping from his little sanctuary between your legs with a wet pop. He readjusted himself, made himself decent before kissing you on the head.
God, what would this mean for your friendship? Would this become a regular thing? Did this make you something more. You were too afraid to say anything in fear of ruining the quiet serenity of the moment.
“You got what you need for your drawing?” You ask innocently, as if he did all of this for some damn drawing. Hobie scoffed against your scalp and pulled away to look at you. “Yeah, but ‘m no’ in the mood to draw anymore. Jus’ lemme hold’ja, yeah, dove?”
You could let him do that.
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moonstruckme · 8 months ago
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Honeydew
I'm doing a rewatch of the bear and god he is just so irresistable. My childhood crush on lip gallagher has been revived and given new purpose! I can't promise to write for carmy consistently but if y'all have requests I wouldn't be opposed to them :)
cw: blood 
Carmy Berzatto x fem!reader ♡ 972 words
There are tons of benefits to being in the same kitchen as a classically trained chef. For one, Carmy always gives you the easy tasks. Stirring pasta, scrambling eggs, chopping scallions. Today, you’re cutting up melon while he whips up some kind of citrus sauce, because your boyfriend is incapable of making just a fruit salad. No, it has to have some kind of fancy factor, or else they’ll take away his star, you guess. (Not that you’re complaining. That sauce is gonna be awesome.)
One thing that doesn’t tend to feel like a benefit is that any time you mess something up, you feel about three times more stupid than you would if you were by yourself. 
How were you supposed to guess that instead of cutting down through the melon when you try to slice it in half, the tip of the giant knife you’re using would come jutting out of the melon and embed itself in your palm. 
You gasp and pull away on instinct, and for a second, can only stare at the strangeness of it. You can see straight through to the inside of your hand, which is as unsettling as it is sickening, freezing you in morbid fascination until blood wells to the surface and your brain catches up to what’s happened. 
“What?” Carmy asks flatly, having heard your gasp and well used to your kitchen mishaps. 
You tear a paper towel off the roll, jamming it over the wound and fisting your hand around it. “I cut myself,” you say, somewhat shakily. 
“How bad?” 
You look down at the knife, miraculously clean-looking despite the blood now flowing from your hand. The paper towel is already starting to feel damp with it. 
You use your good hand to take the knife out of the melon, setting it in the sink so you don’t forget to wash it. “I don’t—” You’ve never cut yourself this deep before. You don’t know how bad is bad. “It seems not great.” 
You startle when a tattooed hand wraps around your elbow. 
“Chill,” Carmy says, turning you around to face him. He takes your wrist. “Open your hand.” 
“I can’t.” Panic makes your throat hot and tight. “It’s bleeding a lot.” 
“Let me see,” he says, trying to pry your fingers away from your curled-up hand. 
“I think it’s fine.” There are tears in your voice, and sometimes you wish Carmy was the type of person whose emotions naturally adjusted to balance out those around him, but your alarm only works him up. 
“Let me see,” he insists sharply, and you don’t have the will to resist, letting him unfold your fingers. You flinch as he removes the paper towel, blood running quickly into the crevices of your palm. 
“Shit,” Carmy hisses, tugging it over the sink. Your hand looks like a delta of crimson streams. He picks the paper towel up again, dabbing roughly so he can see the cut better. 
“Do you think it needs stitches?” you worry aloud, then immediately want to hit yourself. Even if he says it does, you think you’ll push back, too fearful of hospitals and needles and odd, stinging pains to consent to getting them. 
Your boyfriend is quiet, bending close to your hand as he lifts the paper towel again, and your voice goes a bit shrill. “Carm?” 
“No,” he says, staunching the wound again. 
Relief washes over you like a warm tide. Still, you ask, “How do you know?” 
Carmy presses your fingers closed like they had been, loosing a breath as he gives your fist a light squeeze. “I’ve seen enough cuts that do need stitches to know the difference. What the hell did you do?” 
You try to breathe out like he had, but your chest still feels too tight. You can feel your heart beating in your hand. “I don’t know,” you admit. “The knife slipped and went through the skin, or, like, the peel.” 
His brows knit together, and Carmy picks your knife up from the sink. You have no clue what he sees that you don’t, his eyes narrowing, but he shoots you a look once he’s done, setting it back down. 
“It’s dull,” he says, like this is a punishable offense. Maybe in his kitchen, it is. “This is why we keep our knives sharp, so these fuck-ups don’t happen.” 
“How was I supposed to know sharp knives were less dangerous?” You’re trying to joke, but your voice comes out watery. You press your lips together as adrenaline catches up to you, your vision blurring. 
“Relax.” Carmy sounds tired. His grip is strong, though, as he wrestles you into a hug, thick arms banding across your shoulders. You feel stupid, and silly, and he can tell, his hand cupping the back of your neck as tears carve hotly down your cheeks. “You’re just supposed to know.” 
You laugh wetly, breaking up some of the emotion knotted in your chest. Carmy pulls back until he can see your face. His hand moves to the side of your neck, thumb pressed against your jaw. 
“You’re okay,” he says firmly. “Does it hurt?” 
You shake your head. “Not really, I was just scared.” Your lips wobble pathetically, tears dribbling off your chin. “And you yelled at me.” 
Carmy blows out a breath, his mouth slanting wryly. “That wasn’t yelling,” he says, but brings his other hand to your face, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “I’m sorry.” 
“It’s okay,” you choke out, pushing against his hands until he gives in, letting you fold yourself into his chest again. “I’m sorry I didn’t sharpen my knife.” 
“I’ll do it for you later.” You can feel his biceps bulging as he tightens his grip on you, holding you closer. “But there’s no fucking way we’re using that melon now.” 
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