#he's rather fond of his job...usually
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rafey-baby · 3 months ago
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sweet treat
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This picture is making me have thoughts about sexy construction worker!rafe who spends his days lifting heavy stuff and building shit, as he words it when shy!reader inquires about his job since he’s always showing up to the small cafe she works at all sweaty and white shirt dirtied...
hope you enjoy xx
part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
cw: construction worker!rafe being flirty and having some improper thoughts about reader, slightly suggestive
wc: 1k
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Every time the golden bell above the door of the coffee shop dings and Rafe's eyes settle on her soft form the edges of his mouth tilt up; offering her a lazy grin as he asks what baked good she’d recommend for him to try that day. 
His visits have become something she begins to look forward to, him asking about her day with his raspy voice and big biceps bulging as he leans against the counter; always managing to drag a nervous giggle out of her. She feels like a Pavlov’s dog, her brain tingling and mind buzzing like a bee when the clock ticks away and the time he usually walks through the mustard yellow door approaches.  
And he thinks she’s just as sweet as sugar, especially when she smiles at him all bashful, trying to hide the way her eyes round out and her breath gets caught in her throat whenever he leans closer to her, asking what she's doing after this with a slow drawl, lifting his thumb to her cheek and swiping away a smudge of flour dusted over the skin there, lingering for a second too long.  
“Messy girl,” he'd murmur, purposefully trying to make her blush, being mean.  
Slowly but surely, his visits become the best part of her day and she starts to harbor fond, gooey feelings towards the slightly older guy who makes a show of loudly humming in satisfaction when he bites into a raspberry chocolate muffin she’s made, honey dripping from his tongue when he showers her in compliments.  
He seems to be pleased when she diverts her jittery eyes from his intense gaze and tries to busy herself with swiping a rag over a spot on the countertop (for the fourth time already), sneaking glances at him indulging in the confectioneries she's practically forcing him to taste test now; whenever she tries a new recipe, she always wants him to be the first to try it. And he's not complaining.  
And when he finds out she walks home by herself, even after night shifts, there’s no other option for him but to insist driving her home from then on, because he doesn’t like the idea of such a pretty girl walking alone in the dark, doesn’t like it at all.  
She of course denies him immediately, going on about not wanting to bother him and that she’s fine, to which he simply furrows his brows, telling her it actually wouldn’t be a bother at all since he can often work quite late as well, demanding to know what time she gets off that night. And she has no choice but to hesitantly reply, his stern tone almost compelling her to give into his every wish.  
It then becomes a routine for them, him waiting for her to finish up cleaning and her mumbling out a soft thank you when he holds the door of his truck open and she crawls onto the passenger side with his palm on the small of her bag guiding her, just resting there, reassuring. He often refers to her as ‘my passenger princess’, making her melt into a puddle on the seat every single time; trying to hide her flustered face from him, but failing miserably. 
She often feels rather overwhelmed in the small space of his car, a plum tinge heating up her face whenever she feels his eyes on her, catching her staring at his big hands. She's not sure how he's allowed to have such alluring details; a singular gold ring adorning his index finger, strawberry lips so inviting, it's making her head spin.  
Therefore, it’s not really her fault when her mind gets lost in a haze and her brain turns foggy when she notices how his strong arms flex whenever he turns the steering wheel, thumb tapping against the leather. Or when his blunt fingernails scratch at the slight stubble on his face and she wonders how it would feel on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs or- 
“You good, Sweetheart?” Rafe asks and she blinks, realizing he’s asked her a question. A question her dazed cerebrum has no recollection of.  
“Sorry?” She's embarrassed.  
A low chuckle rumbles from his sturdy chest. “What’s on your mind, hm?”  
“Oh, um— nothing just tired and…stuff,” she tries to sound convincing and his grin widens 
“Yeah? So, you’re telling me you weren’t just checking me out?” His tone turns into something condescending, patronizing.  
“What? I— no, no I was just—” 
“Relax, I’m just fucking with you,” but there’s a mocking glint in his eyes that indicates she’s not being very subtle. Her face burns. 
“Asked you if you were hungry?” He flits his eyes to hers. 
“Uh...yeah, sure. I mean, I don’t even remember how long it's been since I ate lunch to be honest,” she starts to ramble, trying to ignore the murky thoughts trying to reach beyond the surface.  
“Why don’t you come over to my place then and I could make you something? All I’m saying, is that I’m a great cook, feels unfair to me that you’re always the one filling up my belly with your baking,” he says as his mind starts to concoct a few other ways he could fill up her belly, willing to bet that she’d let him.  
He’s not an idiot, he sees the way her moony eyes travel down his features whenever she thinks he’s not paying attention, thinks it's adorable how sheepish she is about it.  
However, he’s hesitant about the right way to approach it, not wanting to scare the shy little thing away. But he’s not sure how much longer he can go without having her in the way he wants, in the way he needs.  
Therefore, he opts to warm her up with a homemade meal, and afterwards let her have a sweet treat; he'd fuck her dumb, stuff his cock into her tight cunt until tears start to trickle down her cheeks and she's a whimpering mess.  
He knows he could make her feel so good, wants to show her just how much she's missing, make her beg for it and wants to be a little mean, but most of all he just wants to make her his.  
“Um…okay,” she agrees with a nod of her head. How is she supposed to deny him of anything when he’s looking at her with eyes that resemble dulcet water puddles? 
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st4rbwrry · 6 months ago
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𝒩𝒪𝒪𝒦𝐼𝐸.
⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: getou isn’t fond of the new gardener you hired who’s clearly flirting with you when he’s not home.
warnings ౨ৎ 2.7k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, cunninglingus/face riding, cottage core au? + getou’s a farmer, missionary in da kitchen, praising ofc, exhibitionism, jealousy, possessiveness, getou’s kinda rude, sub / dom dynamic, established relationship, rough play, m oral, impact play, unprotected, pet names ex. [ baby, sweetheart ], minors aren’t welcomed! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡
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getou doesn’t appreciate that you aren’t greeting him with his usual kisses after you raise on your tippy toes to smooch him after he comes home from a long day of churning butter and tending to livestock. it doesn’t make him happy to know that you’re not tending to his attention and rather giving it to another man after he strolls through your large kitchen, that he built for you, to head into the back of your farmhouse to find you giggling and conversing with the new gardener. a gardener that you personally hired that he had yet to meet.
he could smell the pan of shepherds pie and cornbread in the oven, ignoring the way his stomach growls hungrily and it quickly being consumed with irritation. you’re wearing your cute pink apron with tiny patterns of sunflowers and bunnies as you hold a woven basket of freshly picked strawberries the man before you tossed into. having a conversation about fucking strawberries. he didn’t expect this man to be. . . of your type. tall, nice smile, good hair, makes you laugh a little too fucking hard. what about fruits could possibly be so fucking funny, [♡]?
“what a surprise,” getou’s voice is laced with annoyance, deep and causing the two to go silent as he makes his way down the steps to stand directly next to you. you blink, knowing your husband very well and easily you could tell he’s off.
“hi, baby! this is matteo, he’s our new gardener! we were talking a lot about the new setup i plan on having!” the smile on your face is pure, looking back and forth between getou and your gardener. “he just started today.”
“hey, man. nice to meet you. your wife told me all about you,” matteo remains professional, extending his hand for a handshake. you roll your lips in, waiting for your husband to comply with respect. it’s silent as you stare between both men, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck rise from anxiousness.
“mhm,” is all getou can say, matteo taken aback by his approach. it’s extremely rude, and you blink excessively to keep your composure. taking a deep breath, you form a tight lipped smile towards your gardener.
“excuse me for a moment,” you speak, side eyeing getou before pulling him to the side, matteo continuing his job by picking juicy fruits from their stems.
“what’s your deal? that was fucking rude,” you denounce, gawking up at him with a raised brow. getou folds his bulky arms, not understanding how you’re acting dumb right now. you knew this would piss him off.
getou leans down to get closer to you, lips inches from your ear. “who told you to hire somebody like this?"
"hire somebody like what?" the man retaliates, overhearing getou’s weak attempt of whispering to you, taking offense. regardless, he spoke on his name when he was right there.
getou turns his face only an inch or so, barely giving the man full attention. you swallow, his face nearly touching your own possessively, like an animal protecting it’s mate. getou then switches his eyes fully, intensely staring at the man. "like someone she'd fuck."
his immature response causes you to step away from him with a look of disgust, brows pinched with anger. you couldn’t believe his mouth. you’re not sure what the fuck’s gotten into him, but it wasn’t cute. quite frankly, he looked stupid.
“you’re making a fucking fool of yourself,” you spat, eyes burning. knocking your head back in the sweet gardeners direction, you hold your hand over your heart apologetically. “i am truly sorry for my husband’s rudeness. please forgive me for this, but i think it’s best if you go. i will give you a call tomorrow. i’m sorry again.”
the man nods only once, keeping his focus solely on you, not even bothering to glance in your husband’s direction. his possessiveness a black cloud over the party. “it’s not a problem at all. have a great rest of your day, ma’am.”
the minute your gardener is out of view, that’s when you give getou an irritated snarl, looking him up and down as if the man had no shame. which he didn’t, and that was the problem. “what is wrong with you?!”
getou intakes air as you strut away angrily, heading back into your kitchen to adapt into the ignoring him bubble and completely tuning into your dinner prepping. since you have freshly picked strawberries, you decided to start a mixture for muffins you could sell to the neighborhood tomorrow morning. a festival was being held at the ranch a few blocks down, already promising a few ladies you’d whip something up sweet.
getou follows behind, studying as you huff and puff to yourself while gathering eggs, milk and other things you needed.
“you didn’t answer my question.”
“because it’s fucking stupid. why’d i hire someone to help me out? oh my god, such a mystery.”
“you’re being immature.”
that causes you to stop all movements. holding onto the edges of the island and staring at him with disbelief, mouth actually drawn open as you scoff. “i’m immature? because you didn’t just disrespect that man for no reason. you know him or sum?”
“don’t act slow. you hired that man ‘cause he’s someone you can eye fuck when i’m not home. don’t pretend you don’t find him attractive,” getou grits his teeth.
you roll your eyes. “ohh, so it’s jealousy! why would i want to cheat on someone i’m in love with? you’re being extremely distrustful. take that shit out of my kitchen, suguru.”
“say that again,” he’s approaching you now, getou observing as you cross your arms and pretend to be unfazed by how much bigger he was compared to you. his bare feet thumps along the floor as he nears you, hands in the pockets of his dark washed jeans, shoulders broad as he stared down at you darkly. now your body’s pressed up against the kitchen counter, turning your head the opposite way to avoid eye contact.
“suguru,” you stand on what you say, uncaring. your husband deviously grins.
getou kisses his teeth smugly. you practically moan when his hand grips your jaw to bring your attention back, fingers denting into your cheeks to make your lips pout, head tilted back. “watch that mouth of yours. there’s no need to be bratty.”
teeth sinks into your lips he gawks at for a split second before meeting your eyes again. a feeble noise comes from you as he swiftly pulls up your white sundress, hands on the backs of your thighs to spread you open, fingers pulling your pussy open. not surprised to see you weren't wearing underwear. really, that pisses him off even further. it’s windy out and you were engaging in conversation with that man knowing your pussy was bare. he wants to laugh, seeing how wet you are already. fucking nympho. even though you’re mad, you can’t ignore how hot his touch makes you. you gulp, holding onto the edge of the counter as your gut flips after he crouched on one knee.
his breath hits your clit, and instantly your thighs tremble, getou slowly sticking his tongue out his mouth, wide, long, and slick with saliva. it hovers over your clit, barely touching it. part of you wants to grab his hair and shove him down, but the look in his eyes says not to try it. his fingers come up to your face, extending two of the long digits inside of your mouth. you suck obediently, moaning around them while rolling forward towards his, aching for it. his free hand smacks your inner thigh causing you to release his fingers and whimper, getou wasting zero time and curling them deep into you, shaking them frivolously as his lips suction on your clit, kissing your pussy deeply, using so much saliva.
his stare is hard on you the entire time, wrist moving instantaneously as he fucks you with them. he’s having a ball watching you wither and roll your hips, squealing and raising your thighs higher to your chest, listening to his fingers slam into you, that gushing sound of your pussy coating his fingers.
"c-can’t. . .”
"shut up," briskly, he pulls his fingers out and spanks your clit with them, standing to his feet, towering over you. you rest your head back against the wall by the window, shifting your body since your ass hurt a little from being on a granite countertop.
most of his words are blocked out as you watch the sexually pent-up man drag his pants down until they sit at his waist, pussy clenching at the dark pubic hairs sticking out, lust in your eyes as his veiny, big hand fists his cock. the thick vein leading up to the crown leaking precum makes you smile hazily.
"look at me when i’m talking to you."
you're too fucking mesmerized by him. his slightly dirty white tshirt is hiked up now, godly sculpted abs enticing you to run your fingers over them with a giddy laugh. getou tilts his head to the side, clenching his jaw.
"hey," he calls to you, snapping his fingers twice in your face, voice deeper than usual. you can see that he's not up for bullshit. he’s arched over you, hair sticking to his forehead as he places his right hand on your lower back, arching into him until your chest presses against his. "listen to me when i talk to you, woman.”
the smell of his skin is intoxicating, reaching your hands behind him to claw at his ass, open mouth on his chin, moaning as he slides deep into you, looking down at you with a groan escaping his throat, furrowing his thick brows. getou tries not to lose it, because despite his frustration, there's no way he could deny just how fucking good you felt pulling him deep right now. you hold tight, eyes hazy as he pounds into you without another word, arm stretching over to press his palm on the cabinet above, balancing himself and dragging you to meet him thrust for thrust.
"pussy so needy for me. it fuckin’ better be,” please shut up, is what you think. his voice is too damn addictive, and the way he fucks you, virulently, like he fucking despised you . . . you didn't know if you could take much more. the other half of your brain is the opposite, thanking him over and over.
"oh, look, princess. there’s your favorite man,” it doesn't register that the two of you are legit fucking near an open window where anyone could see. “let’s say hi, baby."
unsure why he came back, it only takes ten seconds for your sweet gardener to immediately be swept with trauma, catching a glimpse at the two of you, getou’s dark eyes burning into him while yours are shut to hide the embarrassment, stomach still flipping with rouse. his fingers has your jaw locked still to keep your fucked out face in the direction of the man who’s nothing short of unimpressed. tasteless, he thinks. wasting no time and turning away to hop back inside of his truck, only coming because he forgot to give you back the key to your garage. his lips are by your ear now. "looks like we’ll have to hire someone else.”
"you’re s-so . . . mean,” it’s the only thing you can think of, trembling and yanking your face out of his grasp. you wanna say you hate him, but deep down you knew this is what you've been craving all along. he’s exactly how you wanted him to be; lecherous. "fuck, can’t stand you.”
"you love me, sweetheart,” he coed, you hiccup. sobbing as he throws one of your legs over his arm, angling his hips slightly to the right and hitting into you faster, rolling your neck back, listening to how viscous his skin claps with your own, and his breath fans over your face.
"awe," he pouts, giving your forehead a chaste kiss. "y‘not gonna say it back?”
“d’nt deserve it,” you’re slurring your words and it pisses you off how dumb he makes you. his hand is around your neck now, choking you until you feel the blood rushing to your skull, luring the back of your own hand to your lips, using it as some sort of blockage for how loud you were being. louder than usual.
inching his lips towards yours, he studies how desperate you are to latch your lips with his, only for him to snatch them away. “then you don’t deserve my kiss.”
a frustrated whine leaves your throat, getou humming tauntingly, delicately skimming his bitten red lips over yours with a moan following along with a whispered ‘no’. tightening his lock around your neck, he rolls his hips deeper, your hand clutching his wrist with tears in your eyes. “not until you tell me you love me.”
you gently sink your teeth into the back of your hand, getou leaning closer before sloppily kissing at your palm where your lips rested, an evil stare painted his expression. he sucks, licks, and moans on your hand, knowing you were wishing he'd do that to your mouth instead. fuck, that was enough to get you to the breaking point. thighs trembling as you drop your mouth open, nothing coming out.
"wait, are you gonna cum?" his mouth upturns as he widens his eyes and mouth with fake surprise. "you’re cumming, aren't you? don’t cum. if you cum, i’ll stop."
"suguru, fucking stop—"
"stop what, huh? why you talkin' back?" shoving his thumb in your mouth, he fucks you harder, body jolting as your eyes roll back and your mouth drools, clutching his wrist harder to keep him there. "weren't you gonna cum?"
"yessss!" you wail, tears falling down your eyes. that coil in the pit of your stomach is ready to snap, getou’s sadistic voice ringing in your ears as he praises you, hips ramming harder to get you to break, clutching the back of his neck and screaming into his chest, giving him the answer he wants, riding the wave. "love you. love you.”
“good girl, good girl,” he proceeds to fuck you through it, just enough until you're pushing at his stomach to stop, kissing up the side of his neck drunkenly. getou slides out of you, holding back a moan before he's grabbing your hand and pulling you off the counter, holding your waist so you don't fall over.
"knees, now."
you're more than happy to lower to your knees, already knowing what to prepare for, lulled, teary eyes focusing on him and the slick coated cock stretching over your face. you hold onto the back of his thighs, widening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, getou holding your head still before gliding his dick inside the cave of heat now inundating him, jaw dropping, using the other hand to hold the cabinet once more and mercilessly fucking your throat. his moans are coarse, grunting and throwing his head back, hips stuttering as he holds you still and shoots deep in your mouth, cursing thousands of times he nearly filled the dictionary.
"swallow it and show me," and you do, without hesitation, sticking your tongue out proudly and it makes getou even prouder. "that’s my girl."
"whatever," you wipe the side of your mouth, getou lifting you off the floor, legs still too weak to function.
“there’s that mouth again, sweetheart. cut it short before i fuck you harder,” oh, he’s serious. that darkness in his eyes telling you not to try it again.
“s-sorry, baby. love you,” you give him those pretty doe eyes he falls weak to, rubbing your hands over his waist while placing your chin on his chest. batting your lashes innocently.
getou hums. “tell me that after you get rid of that fuckin’ gardener.”
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© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡
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luviestarz · 1 year ago
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yoon jeonghan fic recs!
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✧ such a flirt ! - @amateurasterism (it’s simple: jeonghan knows he’s a flirt, but didn’t realize you flirting back was the key to breaking him.)
✧ deeper in denial ! - @amateurasterism (if there’s one thing you know about jeonghan, it’s that he’s a tease. what happens when the teasing makes it to soonyoung’s game of spin the bottle?)
✧ MON ANGE ! - @itadorins
✧ KIDULT - @hvae (jeonghan always believed he was never fond of children, especially when he took the job at your daycare. little did he know the child in him was playing hide and seek, finally revealing itself after growing to love the kids. oh, and you too)
✧ mirror mirror - @cheolism (jeonghan asks to roleplay him being jealous and fucks you like the little desperate slut you are)
✧ It's Nice To Have A Friend | yjh x reader - @sluttywoozi (You and Jeonghan have embarked on your fifth annual Best Friends trip, but it's a bit different than usual, considering he made the reservation under Yoon Y/N and told them he was your husband. What's a honeymoon between friends anyway?)
✧ a little attention - @onlymingyus
✧ MY ATTENTION - @slytherinshua
✧ when jeonghan realizes he's in love with you - @wonwoonlight
✧ 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 ♥︎ - yoon jeonghan ! - @hoshzone (not being able to wait until Jeonghan gets off the phone with Joshua, you decide it’d be a good idea to get yourself off on his thigh. He makes sure you pay for that.)
✧ call me by his name | yoon jeonghan [M] - @sweetlemontart (to you, one of jeonghan's most admirable trait is his candid nature. he's straightforward with most people—if he's angry, they'll definitely know. but with you? he'd rather swim the ocean day and night than take his anger out on you. well, that is, of course, unless you ask him to.)
✧ to live again | yoon jeonghan - @viastro (it’s been years since your last milestone birthday; a time when everything still felt right in the world with youth and ambition. now that you’re older and times have changed, would you dare take a chance to save someone else in the past at the cost of your own future?)
✧ 彡 my heart is beating for two. — yoon jeonghan - @seuonji (daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan — you’re a worker at the daycare and of course, your main priority is the safety of the kids. how’d you deal with an unfamiliar face trying to pick up one of the kids one day?)
✧ the long way | yoon jeonghan - @trblsvt (it was just like any other shoot. go in, pose, drink water, don't get food on the clothes, and don't joke around with the staff. easy. except it wasn't that easy.)
✧ — ode to you  - @lovelyhan (if there's one thing you've learned from all the lives you've spent together, it's that jeonghan isn't always someone you'll end up wanting. he can be crass. he can be secretive. he can be nothing short of vexing. but in the end, he's everything you need him to be.)
✧ rain and kisses | yoon jeonghan - @babyleostuff
✧ sharing is caring - yoon jeonghan - @etherealyoungk
✧ lowkey — yoon jeonghan - @chenfleur (Jeonghan's supposed to be on stage in twenty minutes, and he's nowhere to be found.)
✧ our dawn is hotter than day. - @ikigaisvt (in which you and your boyfriend says i love you for the first time surrounded by his friends.)
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yamujiburo · 7 months ago
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HANAMUSA HEADCANONS
Woo! Some fun lil headcanons~
Jessie and Delia Headcanons
Delia is a morning person and was surprised to learn that Jessie was even more of a morning person than her
Jessie's a massive romantic and is usually the one to plan all their dates
Jessie and Delia enjoy doing karaoke together
After finding out Delia wanted to be model, Jessie started making a lot of new outfits for her using her years of expertise from making disguises
Jessie enjoys giving Delia makeovers and Delia loves getting them
Delia enjoys being big spoon
Delia initiated their first kiss
Jessie cuts Delia’s hair for her
Once Jessie becomes a nurse and starts going to work, Delia starts packing lunches for her every day. It’s usually way too much food
Whenever Delia’s working in the kitchen, Jessie’s always waddling right behind her. Not really being much help but Delia doesn’t mind
Jessie's not great at cooking but makes an effort to make food for Delia when she notices Delia's tired. It's usually bad but Delia appreciates the thought
Delia is incredibly fond of Jessie’s Pokémon, Wobbuffet and Gourgeist in particular 
Delia is terrified of snake Pokémon
Delia never really drank before meeting Jessie but now they have wine nights together. They usually end with Jessie passed out in Delia’s lap
When Delia gets really drunk, she gets REALLY affectionate and grabby
Delia can't swim and it's her secret shame
Professor Oak is very cordial with Jessie but also wary of her. He mostly wants to make sure Delia is taken care of and won't get her heart broken
Pikachu comes around to Jessie rather quickly after realizing she’s not really a threat and finding out how good at head scratches she is (she has nice long nails)
Mimey takes the longest to come around to Jessie 
Jessie calls Delia “my Deerling” and Delia calls Jessie "Smoochum"
Delia loves when Jessie gives her kisses on the forehead
Delia is a huge Jessilina fan. Jessie reveals that she is Jessilina but Delia doesn’t believe her at first
Jessie and Delia do a lot of movie nights together. Jessie loves sobbing at romcoms and Delia likes really fucked up horror movies for some reason (Jessie’s terrified of them but doesn’t want Delia to think she’s a coward)
Jessie likes to randomly scoop Delia up and carry her around the house
Delia picked up a habit of talking to herself prior to Jessie moving in. It frequently catches Jessie off guard
Jessie gets irritated when people flirt with Delia. Mostly because that's her girl but also because she's mad they weren't flirting with her, herself.
Delia tends to keep a lot of her negative feelings to herself but after meeting Jessie and seeing how unapologetically expressive she is, she starts letting her guard down a bit. She rants about rude customers and Jessie could listen to her all day
Because she lived alone for so long, Delia sometimes needs her space. Jessie’s still getting used to this (as someone who hates being alone)
Delia is very particular about how chores are done as well as how things are organized in her house
Prior to getting her own job, Jessie would just do chores then sit around at the Ketchum house waiting for Delia to come home. She’s very bad at entertaining herself
Jessie puts on a healthy amount of relationship weight over time. Long gone are the days of Jessie eating snow (out of necessity) and starving
Jessie still likes snowgasboard as a treat
Delia and Jessie both have abandonment issues and require a lot of reassurance from one another
Delia's not super strong but she starts working out in order to one day carry Jessie on their wedding day
Jessie, who is used to being on the run, gets antsy from staying home more frequently. She takes up a lot of yoga and running. Delia joins sometimes.
Ash Headcanons
When Ash first found out that his mom was dating Jessie, he was, justifiably, suspicious of her.
Early on Ash would secretly prank Jessie in hopes that it'd make her leave
Jessie and Ash slowly bond through Pokémon battles as well as sharing Pokémon facts with each other
Ash never calls Jessie “mom” and she’s very okay with that. He does however call her “dad” to piss her off
Jessie calls Ash “champ” in retaliation
Jessie's been quietly invested in Ash's love life, having seen him travel with so many people and witnessing all the crushes people have had on him.
James Headcanons
James is aroace and happy not being in a relationship
Now that he's settled down in Pallet, James spends a lot of his time indulging in his many hobbies (bottle cap/Pokéball collecting, gardening, building miniature models of various things, raising and training Pokémon, etc.)
Because Jessie kept passing out at wine nights, Delia started inviting James to them and it's now become more of their thing
James started off as just a waiter at Delia's restaurant but Delia found out he was great at cooking so they exchange roles sometimes
Jessie frequently goes to him for advice on how to impress Delia and be a better person for her. He's the nicest person she knows.
Jessie is still pretty affectionate and close with James and he gets freaked out about it, thinking Delia would have a problem with it (she does not)
James and Ash really get along. Even early on when he was still getting used to Jessie being around the house, he'd confide in James (and James, like a secret helper, would help Jessie out by letting her know Ash's needs)
Meowth Headcanons
Meowth took getting fired from Team Rocket the hardest
Delia and Professor Oak filled the Giovanni shaped hole in his heart
Oak had a really hard time trusting Meowth at first and whenever he translated anything from the Pokémon, Oak wasn't sure whether to believe him or not
After some time working at Oak's lab, Oak gave Meowth a pet on the head after he did a good job and it altered his brain chemistry forever
Meowth had a hard time making friends with Ash's Pokémon at Oak's lab (obviously) but Infernape, right away was happy to have him around. He helped all the Pokémon come around and get to know Meowth
Meowth was the first one to pick up on Jessie's crush on Delia. Unlike James, he didn't get too involved, worried that Jessie dating Delia then potentially blowing it might ruin a good thing (his views on love are a bit jaded after his experiences)
Meowth is now very supportive of Jessie and Delia, and is happy that one of his best friends found love
Other Headcanons
Professor Oak is very cordial with Jessie but also wary of her. He mostly wants to make sure Delia is taken care of and won't get her heart broken
Pikachu comes around to Jessie rather quickly after realizing she’s not really a threat and finding out how good at head scratches she is (she has nice long nails)
Mimey takes the longest to come around to Jessie. Jessie's asked Meowth to help her figure out what Mimey's deal is but Meowth is also scared to talk to Mimey.
Seviper desperately longs for Delia's love and attention but she's too scared of it. She eventually gets to the point where she can pet it with no issues as long as Jessie is also in the room
Early on, Delia's customers start to pick up on the fact that Delia was happier. They assumed she'd finally found a new boyfriend but they were very surprised to find out she was dating a bombshell of a woman
The people of Pallet were initially a bit scared of Jessie. Not a lot of women there look quite like her. She has an intimidating aura but over time find that she's quite pleasant, especially when she's with Delia
General Team Rocket Heacanons!
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ddejavvu · 1 year ago
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What about spencer with a reader who is normally so independent and does everything for herself but she’s so soft for spencer and lets him dote on her and take care of her and the team is like :o bc they can’t believe she is letting someone do things for her
"I'm not a tyrant," Spencer's voice is inexhaustibly patient, and his fingers are slightly awkward as he holds them around his phone, angling it awkwardly so that you can see his upper half on face-time while he sits at his desk, "I just want you to take your medicine so that you can get better."
"I am better," You insist, your voice a far cry from its usual drawl. It's more ragged and weak, and you definitely have a stuffy nose, which indicates how untruthful your words are. Everyone knows it, most of the bullpen can hear your insistent griping, and they're beginning to feel bad for Spencer. They can't imagine how he'd gotten you to stay home today, but they're shooting each other knowing grins each time you push back against his gentle insistence.
"No, angel, you're not." Spencer croons, "You're on the mend, but you're not recovered yet. And you'll get worse if you don't take your meds. I put them on the nightstand for you, and some water. All you have to do is take them, and go back to sleep."
"I don't want to sleep!" You insist, and it's a whine- a whine! Emily's mouth splits in an incredulous grin, and a laugh threatens to tremble Derek's broad shoulders at how juvenile your attempts at protest have become. They're used to your biting words, your forceful demeanor, your inability to surrender any control, but Spencer's got you tucked into the covers begging for a kiss on the forehead.
"I've been sleeping all day, and I slept all day yesterday, and the day before that. I'm tired of sleeping. Just let me fill out some paperwork! Anything, Spence, please."
He chews on the inside of his cheek, ignoring the way that JJ giggles suspiciously with Penelope, who's leaning against the side of her desk, drawn out of her office for the spectacle.
"You can read," He relents, "And you can watch tv but only if you do it on your computer with the night light setting turned on," He narrows his eyes, taking on your rather rough persona to ensure that his orders are obeyed, "Promise?"
"Promise," You rasp, and the team can hear the smile in your voice, "Thanks, Spencer."
"Use the night light setting," He warns instead of accepting your thanks, "I'll check later to see if it's turned on!"
"Okay!" You laugh, and Spencer winces lightly as the sound morphs into a thick cough, "Okay, I'll- ah, I'll see you later, baby."
"See you later," He concedes with a fond smile, waving in addition to his verbal goodbyes, "Love you."
"Love you too," You promise, then end the call. Spencer feels the weight of everyone else's stares on him as he sets his seldom-used phone down and resumes working, refusing to acknowledge them unless they prod at him first.
"Good job, Spence," JJ congratulates, "I didn't think she'd ever take a sick day."
"I know," Emily gushes with bright eyes and a wild smile, "If I tried to tuck her in she'd probably bite me."
"Well, that's 'cause you don't have Pretty Boy's charm," Derek cracks, though the smile that he flashes Prentiss is reassurance that he's teasing Spencer more than he's teasing her, "Congrats on wearing the pants today, Reid. Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause as soon as she's out of bed, she's taking the wheel again."
Spencer takes great pleasure in levelling Derek with a meaningful, "Shut up," because he's more than happy to be your passenger princess any day.
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pastorpresent · 29 days ago
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Logan, who rolls his eyes at Wade's constant moving and squirming in their bed. Logan, who grumbles at him to shut up during the night when they are both trying to sleep because Wade won't stop rambling nonsense. Logan, who growls and shakes him off whenever they accidently end up intertwined in their sleep.
Except then Wade ends up on a merc job that runs through the night and Logan can't fucking sleep.
At first, he isn't sure what the problem is. He did his usual routine, set up the pull out and climbed under the covers, looking forward to a night with the bed to himself.
He then proceeds to toss and turn for hours. His brain won't shut off enough for him to fall asleep, and he can't get fucking comfortable. It's driving him insane, and he lies there for hours, utterly frustrated because he is tired. He's exhausted, actually, and yet he can't fall asleep and the why of it all doesn't hit him till about 3am.
The bed isn't creaking softly under Wade's constantly bouncing leg and shifting positions. There's no running commentary that quietens his own thoughts enough to let him drift off. There's nothing warm and solid that smells like Wade to wrap himself around during the night when his body is craving touch the most.
He gives up with a growl, flicking on the TV and relenting to the fact he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. His brain won't shut the fuck up repeating Wade's name like a damn mantra, and his body is practically vibrating with anxiety over the fact the merc wasn't next to him right now where he was supposed to be.
(Ridiculous and possessive, he scolds himself. Wade is his own damn person, and he has more important stuff to do that be Logan's emotional support teddy bear. Not to mention he's over two hundred fucking years old, and shouldn't need an emotional support teddy bear.)
Wades gets back at six in the morning. Logan can smell the thick scent of his blood before he actually sees him, and he's already up and at the door as Wade enters silently.
He almost jumps out of his skin when he sees Logan standing there waiting for him.
"Fuck, peanut! Warn a guy next time! I thought you'd still be sleeping," Wade says, pulling his mask off, clutching his chest dramatically.
Now that Wade's here, standing in front of him after Logan spent the last eight hours craving his prescence to a nauseating degree, he doesn't know what to say. Doesn't want to freak Wade out with his own stupid attachment, settles on a "you okay?"
His voice cracks, and Wade looks instantly worried, taking a step into his space.
"I think I should be asking you that," he frowns, and Logan shrugs, tries to keep his tone light and casual as he replies, "couldn't sleep."
It comes out the opposite of light and casual. The heaviness of the emotion there is embarrassing and obvious, and Wade clicks on without any further clarification.
Logan cringes, waiting for the jokes. Waiting for Wade to gloat about making it so he can't sleep without him, and the thing is Logan would take it all on the chin. Would accept every condescending word if it meant that Wade would just come to bed with him.
Except Wade's face goes soft instead, and he's tugging off his blood stained gloves and lifting both hands to cup Logan's face. His expression is... fond, and Logan wants to tell him he doesn't deserve it, but instead he just kind of melts into the touch. Into Wade's warmth. His smell. It's intoxicating, and a better distraction than any bottle Logan had ever found himself at the bottom of.
"I... come to bed, please? I'm so tired," Logan mumbles, and Wade smiles.
"There's no where else I'd rather be, sweetheart. Let me shower off the blood and I'm all yours."
Logan's anxiety spikes a little despite himself, and he's scanning over Wade with concern, "are you definitely alright?"
"Immortal, remember? I'm completely fine peanut, but if you want to join me in the shower to examine me yourself I'm not complaining," he wags his non-existent eyebrows, and Logan snorts.
"That shower would never fit the two of us."
"Is that a challenge?"
And he isn't sure why, but the warm familiarity of their back and forth sends him into a fresh wave of emotion again, and he finds himself pulling Wade in for a hug before he could chastise himself for even wanting it.
Wade hugs him back tight, running a hand over his back, "so no more overnight jobs?"
Logan grumbles his disapproval, and Wade chuckles in his hold.
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pearlymel · 15 days ago
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☆ cw. mdni, fem!reader, fluffy smut, talks of having children, established relationship.
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Zayne Always admired that look on your face whenever he would start making love to you.
Your messed up hair that no matter how much he tried smoothening it out with his fingers, it would end up even messier, your swollen parted glossy lips, and half-lidded awaiting eyes.
Zayne doesn't really know when he became fond of you. Perhaps it was when he first met you all those years ago, when you two were kids. Maybe it was when he found you passed out under a tree during a storm.
But ever since he realized his feelings for you all he could think about was making sure you don't get hurt. He's not sure if he's been doing a good job with that. Especially when you're asking for another round after he just wrecked your pussy from the long hours at the hospital, could you really blame him?
As if you could read his mind, you whisper "you're doing well, dearest."
"I should be the one reassuring you, love." He chuckled as he pressed a kiss on your forehead. He's quite glad you're in his arms. There are days where his work takes a toll on him more than usual.
He knows sometimes you're able and willing to go another round since you're quite greedy to keep the feeling going, he'd always make sure to stop you. You can be a little too impatient sometimes, it makes his cheeks flush a rosy pink as he rubbed the tip of his re-hardend flushed length against your slit, coating himself in your slick.
And there's your gasp and arch of your back once he pushed in with a slow, deliberate thrust, filling you all at once, like your cunt was swallowing him in that it never misses to make him dizzy.
His right hand traces along your left arm until it reached your hand to enclose your fingers together, where he could feel your wedding ring on his skin. with that, Zayne starts to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm. He sets a gentle pace, focusing on long, deep strokes that aim to please rather than overwhelm as your lips find his into a messy, open-mouthed kiss, your tongues tangling lazily.
He angles his hips, hitting that spongy spot inside you that never fails to make you whimper and squirm underneath him. He reaches his free hand down between your bodies to find your clit, and he rubs slow, tight circles around the sensitive bud, matching the rhythm of his thrusts and your hand squeezes his so hard, signalling your pending orgasm.
Zayne can feel his own release building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, he redoubles his efforts, his fingers working on your clit faster as his cock starts pounding into harder, deeper for your pleasures. Your fluttering walls responds with a tight clench around his cock until your eyes are rolling back.
"Zayne," you pant his name softly like a prayer to his ear, your fingertips brushing over his shoulder to his cheek, "do you ever.. ever want to have a baby—"
The question catches him off guard. It's not that the thought of having kids with you doesn't excite him. Quite the opposite. You've both been married for a while, and he's quite keen on the idea.
"Haaah—" So keen that that it makes him cum right on the spot, he buries himself to the hilt inside, he groans low and long, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed into your awaiting womb in hot, thick spurts.
You're both silent in eachother's embrace for a while before he pulls out, you watch his every move without a word, from him cleaning you up to joining you back in bed so he could hold you close.
"You didn't answer me." You poke your question at him, and he raises an amused eyebrow, ".. the thought of having kids with you crosses my mind everytime i see you play with them." He answers you with passion, your heart skips a beat.
"... I think a copy of you and i would be cute." The idea of having a child that's a mix of both him and you being cute was something he also thought many times before. "Is that the only reason you want a kid?" He teased lowly, his hand moving to caress your nape now.
"Well you'd be a great father," you say it as if it's the obvious, and Zayne's smile grows wider as your statement, he couldn't help but feel happy hearing you think of him as a father.
The thought of you, carrying his child was quite appealing to him. He's quite sure he'd pamper you and take care of you ten times more than before.
"Do you really think so?" He asks as he watches you blink sleepily, "of course.. you're attentive, caring, loving, plus a doctor."
"And you think those will make me a great father?" His hand moves further down from your nape, it's now resting on the top of your hip, grabbing it lightly. Zayne's thumb continues to trace the skin of your hip in a soft manner. "How about you? Would you be a good mother?" He asks genuinely.
You're hesitant, "i don't think so."
"Why not?"
"..."
"I think you'll be an amazing mother, you just don't know it yet." Zayne softly pecks your cheek, and you blink slowly at the kiss.
Sometimes even he wonders why you can't see yourself the same way he does. He's sure if you were to give birth to his child, you'd instantly be in love with the little baby in your hands.
"you're so easy to love." You murmur, and his eyebrows furrow, "i mean.. anyone could fall for you because of your loveable nature." You peck at the corner of his lips this time.
Zayne's response is silent as he's still bewildered by what you said. He's never considered himself to be someone that would make a woman fall madly in love with him, when all he's ever thought of loving was that one person he's known all his life, in every universe.
"Don't think about it so much," you look down at him from your side in this still night, with your arms moving to cage him in close, "I love you."
He's quite lucky to have someone like you in his life, you're too sweet and kind with your words. He's always known that.
He stares at you quietly for a moment before responding. "I love you, so much."
You both retire for the night, with your heart's content knowing there still is a long way to your marriage.
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teratosfavouritesnack · 4 months ago
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~Wet for the Doctor~
gynecologist!lizard man x fem!human - medical kink, dub-con (is it?), gyno exam, vaginal fingering, finger fucking, multiple orgasms, soft dom/sub power dynamic, monster with human kink
You've been missing your doctor so much that you come up with a dumb excuse just so you can see him again.
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The chill, comfortable aura of the clinic wasn't really helping soothe your nerves; your thighs were twitching and your hands sweating even more than usual. You pressed your palms on the fabric of your dress, attempting to stop your legs from shaking and wipe your skin.
You weren't scared. On the contrary, you were excited. Your jitters weren't caused by apprehension but rather by... anticipation. 
Yes, anticipation. You had been waiting for this day. You had called in, asking for an appointment way before your routine check-up because you had been missing him terribly. 
It was a wicked attraction. Deplorable even. You couldn’t help it, though. Just thinking of him made your whole body tingle in elation. You couldn’t control it. You couldn’t fight against it, no matter how much your mind implored you to.
“-see you in three months. If the issue resurfaces in the meantime, call me immediately so we can reschedule our appointment.”
You could hear a muffled but very familiar voice coming from behind the door. You squeezed your thighs, squirming on your seat, seeking out relief from the ache between your legs. You had been on the edge since you woke up in the morning, tensed up and wet even before you left your house to head to the clinic after lunch. The moment you’d see him again was getting closer and your body was growing restless. It was as if it ached for him, longed for his touch. Only he could give it solace.
The sound of steps grew closer. Your eyes were already locked on the door as it swung open, seeking to lay upon the source of all your sinful thoughts. A tall and lean elf woman stepped outside, lingering by the doorway, blocking your view of the room. Your jaw clenched upon seeing the saccharine smile plastered on her chiseled face. 
“Thank you dr. Duskcale. I wish you good work. May Lady Arassea watch over you.”
“Ah- Thank you. Take care.”
You were burning holes into her skull, mentally ordering her to leave and you didn’t avert your gaze from her until you saw her walk away and disappear behind the corner. It was ridiculous to feel jealous over someone you had no right to lay any claim to, someone who had to deal and take care of plenty of people’s needs on a daily basis, as his job requested. Many people like you. Yet, it made your stomach churn to think that anybody else beside you could harbor similar sympathies for your doctor. In your mind you were… special. You were different. His behavior towards you implied so, you were sure.
“Y/N.”
His voice startled you. Your head instantly snapped towards the door and there you saw him, standing in all his imposing height, the white coat hanging open from his broad shoulders, its pristine color a stark contrast to the teal blue shade of his skin. His long scaly tail was resting heavy on the floor beside him, with just the tip raised from the ground, swaying gently in your direction. Your chest fluttered the moment your eyes met his and you noticed the small smile grazing his reptilian features. Frustration left your body at once, jealousy leaving room for gratification as he gave you yet another confirmation to your thoughts; you were the only one he would welcome in himself instead of sending his assistant. That had to mean something.
“You may come in.”
You nodded and followed him into his office. Your hair stood on end, feeling his almond bright eyes trained on your back. When you turned your head to look at him, his gaze was indeed traveling over your body, pupils dilating and contracting in that odd way that you had grown very fond of. You had heard reptilians had a superior vision than humans and most other creatures, some could even see infrared rays… You prayed the latter wasn’t the case for your doctor, otherwise he would be able to see how hot your blood boiled under his gaze. How incredibly warm he always made you feel.
“Such a beautiful dress you’re wearing today. It suits you perfectly.”
A bashful smile took form on your lips just like every time he complimented you and your appearance. No matter how many times he did it before - at least once during each appointment - he’d always take you by surprise. Perhaps it was his way as a doctor to create a more friendly and easy going environment for the patient, or perhaps it was something he did only with you. You preferred to think it was the latter.
“Thank you… doctor.”
He had encouraged you to call him by his first name after only a few visits, but you preferred to use his title since you enjoyed watching him adjust his coat on his large body and give you a long look every time that word left your lips.
“Please, remove your underwear and lie on the table.”
And perhaps he enjoyed how he was always able to affect you with that routine request. His keen vibrant eyes remained on you until you nodded and moved behind the room divider to undress. 
You hurriedly removed your shoes and folded your soaking undies on the chair before returning to the center of the room. You tried not to pay too much attention to the cool air of the office meeting the dampness between your thighs. Your motions were rapid, almost hurried, yet sure as you hopped onto the table and laid on your back, shifting your body to find the most comfortable position. He approached you just as you were about to settle your feet on the footrests, his large rough palms gently wrapping around your calves to assist you. Your body buzzed with a wicked thrill as you watched him delicately roll the dress over your tummy to get it out of the way.
“There you go.” he whispered with that warm gentle voice of his, and you almost went into ruptures. Even with only a few simple words he could have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You were truly and utterly infatuated. 
At that point it was impossible not to focus on the humid air touching your damp folds, spread out as you were in front of him, nor at any slight brush of his coat against your skin. He could even as much as exhale in your direction and your body would shiver in response.
You locked eyes with him as he rested his hand on your thigh and squeezed it softly, almost affectionately one would say - it certainly felt like that to you. Your walls instantly fluttered at the contact.
“So… What’s the matter? Something must have come up for you to take a new appointment before our routine checkup in three months.” There was a hint of concern in his tone as he said that, as well as in his gaze as he let it sweep your exposed pussy. He took a seat between your legs and his pupils started to do that weird thing again while he carried out the general pelvic examination. “I don’t see any changes from last time…”
As soon as his fingers made contact with your folds, your legs jolted and he halted his ministrations to look at you. Even from a seated position he towered over you so you could easily watch as his face scrunched up in a soft frown.
“Do you feel any pain?”
“Y-Yes… Well, no… Not exactly-”
His puzzled expression told you it was time to provide him with an explanation. It was time to reveal the ridiculous lie you had made up simply to have an excuse for seeing him again. When you went over it at home in the days leading up to the appointment, you didn't feel as silly and embarrassed as you did now that you stood - well, laid - in front of him. Despite how dumb you felt however, you couldn't avoid it.
"I recently started to see someone…a-a werewolf." you blurted out and instantly felt your stomach clench as you watched his eyes narrow. Did he… not like that? You had only seen him look that pensive, maybe even irritated, when he had to postpone one of your previous visits because his agenda was too full. He didn’t say anything about it though, so you cleared your throat and resumed with your lie. “He is very… uhm… endowed. Perhaps too much for me… So I'm afraid we can't… uhm-”
He hummed thoughtfully. His eyes were scanning your face now, peering at you as if he could see right through your blatant lie. Were you so easy to read? Or did he actually have some crazy eyesight abilities?
“Did you have intercourse with this… werewolf?”
You should have expected such a question, yet it caught you off guard, almost making you jump. One of his hands promptly moved to your upper thigh to knead your flesh as if wishing to ease your tension.
“I need to know in order to proceed.” he pointed out, his tone gentle and nurturing. “I’ve had many a patient who had very unfortunate encounters with such creatures. Werewolves tend to lose all lucidity when sexually aroused, especially when in heat. I should hope this wasn’t your case-”
“Oh, no no-! I-It wasn’t like that… Nothing really bad happened..”
“Well, that’s good to hear. But I still need you to answer.”
You nodded and bit your lip as you held his intense gaze.
"I did." you replied, watching his face harden. "B-But it didn't feel good so we stopped almost immediately!" You rushed to add, hoping that instead would please him.
You were mentally face-palming yourself at what you were saying. You hadn't really thought this through, you realized; you hadn't considered how nervous you'd be in his presence. Making up a lie was easy, saying it to his face was a completely different matter.
He was not pleased with that information, at all. He exhaled heavily, as if disappointed by what he had heard, and his gaze landed on your genitals once more. He stroked his fingers across the flesh of your inner thigh a few times before raising his thumb and slowly trailing it over your labia in a circular motion and then along your slit. His palm still resting on your thigh eased your instant tremors.
"He must not have had much experience if he couldn't manage to please you. He may not have prepped you adequately or at all... Inconsiderate, selfish beast." 
The gruff note in his tone was something you'd never heard before, but it rivaled his typically sweet and gentle voice in the way it made your stomach twist and your body heat up. It's possible you made a mistake by bringing up a werewolf since he seemed to have a quarrel with those creatures, or perhaps that could ultimately work to your benefit...
"It's not your fault," he said, eager to comfort you, sounding like himself again. That honeyed voice of his and the following flick of his thumb on your clitoris had your butterflies fluttering. "You are healthy. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.” 
Your breath hitched as you felt the enlarged tip of his finger probe at your wet entrance, teasing contact that sent you quivering in anticipation. You gulped in a poor attempt to pace yourself.
“However, I do need to carry out a vaginal examination just to make sure he didn’t cause any damage.”
He looked back at you, eyes silently asking for your approval. Only when you meekly nodded did he move his free hand to rest upon your lower abdomen and turned the other palm-up as he slowly placed one finger inside your hole. It slid in quite easily - given how slick you were at that point - despite being at least two sizes bigger than a human finger. 
You shuddered and turned your head to the side, making an effort to focus on anything besides him so as to release your muscles and delay the inevitable, which you sensed was already on its way. 
Your wandering gaze landed on the tools on the nearby table: a speculum and other strange-looking metallic objects he had never used on you before. There were also lube and gloves. He had never used those either. You were always ready for his examinations, and lubrication would be wasted on you. And the gloves… You had seen him take them off when the patients before you would head out but he never, not once, put on a new pair for you. 
He had given you an explanation at one point, as if picking up on your curiosity, stating that the large tips of his fingers were particularly sensitive to touch and could better detect irregularities when there was no layer between them and the surface being examined. His words made reasonable sense, although they didn't exactly explain why he wouldn't wear gloves for you, specifically. From that point on, you had more than once entertained the possibility that he actually enjoyed touching you with his bare hands…
You did now as well, that wicked thought redirecting your attention back to the finger exploring your channel and the friction caused by its scaly, bumpy texture rubbing against your sensitive walls. That rendered all of your efforts futile. You stiffened even more, unable to focus on anything other than the way it curled into your g-spot, hitting it insistently and expertly, until an orgasm crashed into you just a couple of seconds later.
You tried as hard as you could to mask it, sealing your jaw, stilling your tremors, gripping the edges of the table with your hands as hard as you could, but he could definitely feel you fluttering and gushing juices around him. You didn't look up, too embarrassed to meet his gaze, but you felt his palm fondly rub your tummy, which combined with the overstimulation, made it even more difficult for you to remain silent. You had to gnaw on the inside of your cheeks to muffle your moans, nearly to the point of bruising yourself.
If he sensed your orgasm, he said nothing about it as he kept on rubbing your throbbing walls. With your hole even more slick than before, he added another finger to the examination and pushed them both all the way to your cervix, curling them to reach that tender spot with his large fingertips. Your lips parted in a muted cry and your hand promptly rushed to cover your mouth.
“Do you feel any pain?”
He knew you felt no pain, he knew for certain but he still played the part, maybe because it aroused him just as much as it aroused you.
You hastily shook your head in response, your gaze returning to him to chance a look. You regretted it immediately. He was already staring at you, probably relishing your blushing and contorting face or perhaps even your stiffened nipples showing beneath the fabric of your dress. He seemed to have been waiting for you to look at him because the instant he had your attention, he stood up, opening your legs even wider, and pushed a third finger into you, forcing you to bite your lips to conceal a lewd whimper.
“He hurt you, didn’t he?”
You were too overwhelmed by the warmth and shivers rushing through you and forcing slick to gush from your hole to understand what he was referring to and so you simply nodded your head.
His face hardened again but the motion of his fingers didn’t falter. It remained slow, careful yet precise and deliberate. A touch that only someone like him could offer. A touch that would make anyone lose their right minds. It certainly made you lose yours.
You were totally unprepared when he inserted a fourth thick finger inside you, and you could not hold back a cry this time, nor stop your back from arching away from the table or your sock-clad feet to curl and fight against the footrests. The huge palm on your belly pressed gently but firmly into your soft flesh, pushing you back down onto the surface. 
"It's okay… It's okay.” he crooned. “You’re a bit tight. Please, try to release your muscles… It will be easier.”
Release your muscles? You had barely any control over your body at that stage but you mindlessly obeyed, only to tense up all over again when you felt another finger probe at your entrance, meeting resistance. This time, he rushed to your aid by pressing his other thumb against your clitoris. The additional stimulation of its pad tapping and rubbing tight circles over your pulsing bundle of nerves did the trick and his fifth finger promptly slid in, filling you up so perfectly as if it had a place within you designed specifically for it.
“Mmm… Good. Very good." 
The stretch was so insane, it took your breath away. You had his whole hand inside you. A hand that could easily exceed the huge girth of any werewolf’s cock, was moving in and out of you, fucking you leisurely, its fingers curling when deep inside your walls and hitting your cervix every damn time. You would have been trashing if he didn’t hold you still with his other palm resting on your hips, a palm that covered the whole expanse of your stomach. Even only the sight of it could make your insides melt in wicked pleasure and the thought that its exact twin was now buried inside you had your brain turn to mush.
“Is everything ok, sweetheart?” 
You gasped, your eyes widened in shock and locked on him. He had never called you like that before. The sound of his lovely, warm voice addressing you in such an affectionate manner caused you to short-circuit. You watched, dumb and panting heavily, as his free hand stroked your belly and traveled possessively up your stomach, even past the rolled hem of your dress, nearly touching the swell of your breasts before trailing back down to settle on your lower abdomen in an intimate and protecting grip. His thumb came to contact with your swollen bud again, and you barely had time to register the knot snapping in your belly before your body began to spasm violently and your vision went white. Waves and waves of pleasure overwhelmed you, triggering every nerve in your system to send electric shocks to course through your body.
His fingers continued to move inside you, slower than before, guiding you through the aftershock, while his other hand tenderly caressed your tummy, providing a comforting touch that helped you ground yourself.
"That was such a... good response." He said and you thought you heard his voice crack through the haze clouding your mind.
His cool palm settled on your cheek, fingers wiping the drool of saliva rolling off your lip. You struggled to focus your vision back on him, your heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open and closed a couple times before you managed to fix your gaze back on his face.
"Did he stretch you out like I've just done? Did anyone ever do it?"
You lazily shook your head, chest heaving hard, gaze still hazy. A low threatening rumble reached your muffled ears but it was gone before you could pinpoint what it was.
"That's very unfortunate. I'm sorry you had to encounter such miserable individuals." 
His fingers finally slid out of you with a lewd squelching sound that made your walls flutter and your face redden. His eyes were trained on your slick cunt, fingertips gently dragging along the slit, smearing your juices from your hole to your clitoris and back, causing you to jerk at each touch.
"Some beasts shouldn't be allowed to be intimate with anybody." he grumbled, eyes attentively following the movement of his fingers against you. "Especially not with creatures so fragile...so precious…”
It looked like he was talking to himself rather than to you. His tone was so soft you could barely hear it but packed with emotion. His head bent down towards you as if attracted like a magnet, and his jaw parted to reveal his forked tongue. The tip flicked through the air with clear purpose... 
Was he tasting your scent?
“You deserve so much better…”
His shocking words made your still tender body shudder and a gasp erupt from your lips. The sound seemed to break him out of whatever trance he'd fallen in. His eyes met yours, and the slit in his pupil narrowed so much to turn into a thin line. He drew back abruptly, as if he had caught himself upon doing something inappropriate. Turning to the adjacent steel table, he grabbed the paper towels and cleaned you with newfound self-control.
“I… need to see you again. Soon. As soon as possible.” He announced as he walked to his desk, discarding the dirty towels on the way. He sat and buried his smooth snout in his agenda, scanning over the pages with ever-growing irritation.
You still didn't feel completely like yourself as you eased down from the table and anchored your unsteady legs on the floor. Silently, you moved behind the divider with quick mindless steps and pulled your panties back on as well as your shoes.
When you came back out, he was standing in front of the desk, facing you and looking rather disappointed.
“We’ll have to see each other next week. Same day, same hour. I postponed some appointments but this is the best I could do.”
You simply nodded, unsure of what to say. You didn’t really trust your voice yet, anyway.
"I must ask you to abstain from attempting penetration again with that werewolf... or anybody else, if possible. Until I finish with your treatment."
You hadn’t the faintest idea what kind of treatment he was referring to but you didn’t dare ask. Whatever excuse he had for having you come over again worked for you. At least you didn't have to make up another stupid lie yourself. 
His bright eyes seemed to pierce you, as though expecting your agreement, and you rushed to answer.
"I w-won't see anyone."
"...Good."
You both fell quite for a moment. Your gazes were locked but your mouths were sealed shut. Neither of you risked giving voice to your thoughts, nor acknowledge the obvious tension buzzing between you two. 
He broke the silence first by clearing his throat.
“I hope you have a good week, Y/N. It's been… a pleasure to see you again.”
You took a long breath, hoping to ease your thundering heartbeat. Oh, you were hooked. Totally smitten with him… and whatever had happened only a couple minutes earlier made you believe that he had a soft spot for you, too.
“It's been a pleasure for me too… Adryan.”
🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me ♡
Tagging: @strawberrypoundtown, @hikotaru, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @loveloveloveeee, @just-a-sewer-goblin, @h0n3y-l3m0n05 🖤
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soobnny · 5 months ago
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the making of a morning person — lee minho. established relationship. fluff. there is still time for love even in busy mornings (1.7k words)
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Lee Minho hasn’t been too fond of early mornings as of late.
Despite being used to how his job requires him to be awake at odd hours of the morning, he still finds himself groaning when he hears the first ring of his alarm, hand jolting to stop it immediately. 
The sound feels like a punch in the gut, and Minho thinks he can bear it until you shift in his arms. Now he’s falling straight from the bed towards a man made hell he’s dug himself into.
He thinks (knows) that must be why he hasn’t enjoyed early mornings the way he used to. 
Before knowing you, there was no sacrificing the comfort of having you in his arms in exchange for getting up and starting his routine. Now, everyday feels like a struggle for extra time with you, even if it’s just a minute or two. 
How is he supposed to willingly peel himself off of your skin and warmth? 
Though, it seems you make it easier for him when you shift your weight instead, enough so you’re completely off him before he has a chance to pull you back in — the way he always does, despite you scolding him that the both of you would be late.
A small whine escapes his lips as he tries to reach for you again, eyes still stubbornly closed.
When you don’t give in, he sports a frown on his face, similar to the one he used to wear before you’d gotten together. Though, after years of knowing each other, you’ve grown unfazed to his cold exterior. Besides, you know it only takes a soft, unexpected kiss to get him shy and fumbly—a side he doesn’t show very often.
It was always like this with him. Love and the way his heart generally feels is a secret experience between you and him. He prefers it like this – quiet and intimate, for your eyes only. 
He doesn’t think he could allow anyone the sight of him whining and asking you to come back to bed for five more minutes while you’re struggling to convince him that the both of you had places to be and deadlines to meet. 
Eventually, Minho does get up from bed, albeit a little grumpy. 
Mornings together were usually calm, however, the sudden influx of deadlines and schedules for the morning has the both of you rushing around each other to get to your appointments in time. 
Minho has memorized you enough to know you’re racing for the bathroom as soon as you leave the bed (you always take way longer than he does), so he moves to open your kitchen cupboards to make the two of you coffee and to feed the cats.
He takes the time to review the things he has to do today, mentally noting the most suitable time for him to eat healthily in between such a tight schedule before moving to recall the choreography he’s made so far so practice runs seamlessly later in the day, all the while cuddling Dori on his lap.
When the sound of water running stops, his feet guide him to discard his mug in the sink, placing his cat back down on the ground before moving towards your shared bedroom so he can choose what to wear before hopping in the shower himself. Though, when he walks in, he finds you struggling to pick what to wear, holding out two options with eyes peering back and forth. 
Without a second glance, he speaks. “Like the red more.”
“Hm?” You snap out of your reverie, eyes trailing towards your boyfriend who’s skimming through his hangered clothing in search of what to wear for the day.
“Red looks good on you. Reminds me of our first date.” 
You smile at the memory.
Your first date with the boy sure was memorable, shaking hands and nervous laughter as he opens doors and pulls out chairs for you like the gentleman that he is. He ends up spilling wine on you, and he apologizes over and over again. He doesn’t remember much of that day anymore. He only remembers how you told him to make it up to you on your second date. 
He did, and he continued to date after date – each one peeling back his cold exterior and showing you his rather weird side. But you wouldn’t have him any other way. Afterall, he wasn’t your boyfriend if he didn’t bite you randomly or search for your ass whenever you passed by him. 
“Thank you.” You press a quick kiss on his cheek before ducking into the bathroom to get started on your makeup. 
You don’t question him when he walks into the same bathroom, moving past you in all his shirtless glory and pausing for a moment to send a small slap on your butt. Then, he nonchalantly hops into the shower as if nothing happened, the way he always does.
When he walks out, you’re just about done with your makeup and have moved on to putting on the red dress he had picked out for you. He allows himself a minute to stare at you fumbling with the zipper of your dress, a string of curses leaving your lips as if the dress had wronged you in all ways possible. 
“Stupid fucking zipper. Making my life so much harder than it is, just zip up.”
“Come here.” 
Minho motions for you to walk over where he’s standing, towel wrapped around his waist with hair still dripping wet from coming out of the shower. When you plant yourself in front of him, he gently pulls your hand away from the zipper, and you allow them to fall limp on your sides. He laughs when you let out a huff in frustration. 
“As much as I love seeing you struggle, let me help you, darling.” His hands move to grab the zipper, hands cool from just having hopped out of the shower. 
Minho has never been the biggest fan of physical touch unless absolutely necessary, but he finds he never minds with you. He’d even go out to say he liked it, the proximity, the feeling of your skin on his – to the point where he’s always looking for you just so he can hold you in some form. 
He tries to focus on the task at hand, but it’s a little difficult when he’s becoming more and more aware of your lingering presence in front of him, with the curve of your back and the way your hair falls perfectly past your shoulders. The feeling has him mentally groaning again for having to let go of you so early in the morning when you could’ve been bunched up in his arms. 
Maybe when your schedules are less busy. 
Yeah, he’d like that a lot. 
Finally, after a few moments of struggling, he manages to get the zipper all the way up, releasing you and stepping back to admire his work for a moment. 
“Thanks, Min.” He waves you off, attention back on his own clothes as he starts to dress himself in front of you. 
“Would’ve liked it the other way around actually.”
“What?” You tilt your head, looking at him suspiciously as you pull down at the ends of your dress. He grins to himself, looking up at you with wiggling eyebrows. 
“Wish you asked me to unzip it instead.”
You laugh, throwing his socks in his direction. “You’re impossible.” 
“I prefer to think of it as charming.” 
You simply roll your eyes in response, patting at his chest firmly before moving to grab a cup of coffee in the kitchen. When you arrive, your heart swells in fondness when you see Minho’s already prepared one for you. 
“Baby? Did you put in—”
“Two creams and one sugar.” He yells back from your bedroom, and you have to bite down at your lips to stop yourself from smiling too much. 
“You have it memorized? Didn’t know you loved me this much.” 
“Well shit, was I too obvious?” You let out a breathy laugh, taking a sip of your coffee. Minho emerges from your bedroom not long after, toothbrush in hand as he rushes to grab something he had probably forgotten in another room. 
Before he can discard his toothbrush, you move to stop him, placing your coffee mug down and wordlessly fixing his shirt so it isn’t as crinkled, smoothening it down with your arm. 
He tastes like mint toothpaste as he leans in to give you a quick peck in thanks. And then he’s back in your bedroom, preparing his bag as you go over some of your paperwork at the last minute to make sure that everything’s there. 
You duck under his arm that’s leaning against the doorframe, taking some black stilettos to wear when you go outside. Minho has to grab your arm and pull you back to stop you from rushing. He doesn’t say anything when he successfully stops you, just swipes his thumb on the corner of your lips and letting his thumb linger there for a second longer than needed.
“Overlapped lipstick.” He states before pushing you so you can go back to what you were doing before he stopped you. 
The morning feels like forever, but eventually you bid him goodbye as you tell him you really need to get going if you don't want to be late. “Don’t forget your jacket. It’s cold.”
“Mhm.” You pull at a random coat from the rack, swinging it over your hands before pulling the door open. Minho follows you so he can make sure you take off safely, and when you both make it outside the house, he stands patiently as if waiting for something. 
“What is it?” You laugh, and he simply points at his lips, puckering them slightly. 
“You’re so stupid.” Shaking your head, you rush back to where he’s standing, grabbing his shoulders to pull him down before pressing a firm, but quick kiss on his lips. “Goodbye now.” 
Minho doesn’t seem too satisfied as he tugs you back by your hips, leaning down again. “Come back here, that kiss was too quick.”
“You’re going to ruin my lipstick!”
“Don’t care.” 
He smirks to himself before pressing his lips back on yours. You’re powerless to stop him, allowing him to draw out the kiss. You know he’s always preferred long kisses over hurried ones anyways. 
When you’re sure you’ve spent a good few minutes making out on your front porch, you finally pull yourself free from his grasp, pointing at him accusingly and blaming him if ever you were late for work. He simply shrugs his shoulders, blowing you an air kiss. 
“Okay, bye now! Love you!” 
With arms crossed and body weight leaning against your doorframe, he smiles to himself as he sees your figure retreating. 
“Love you more.” He says more to himself with a small smile on his face. 
Despite the chaos of your morning routine, the brief moments of love between you made everything feel just a little bit more bearable. It would be hell with anyone else. But it’s not anyone else, it’s you, and he thinks maybe waking up this early isn’t so bad after all. 
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euthymiya · 5 months ago
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friendly reminder ft. scar
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you might have helped your boyfriend escape his jail cell, but that still doesn’t mean you’re done being mad at him for flirting with another girl
contents: fem reader ; spoilers for main quest—mentions of rover and scar interactions, mentions of reader helping scar escape jail ; established relationship ; reader is part of the fractsidus ; reader and scar are both low key toxic in a way that almost balances each other out to be healthy LOL. they are in love, just in crazy ways ; reader is not rover. in fact, she’s rather jealous of rover and scar loves it ; hand jobs—his cock zipper LIVES ; cum eating ; reader sits on scar’s lap ; not proof read pretend there are no mistakes if you stumble across one
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“you’re awfully affectionate today,” scar chuckles, relishing in the trail of your lips along his face. they map out the marks that permanently reside along his skin, trekking the familiar path from one to another as you meet each destination. “i take it that means i’ve been missed?”
“hardly,” you grumble. but your actions say otherwise as your lips find his neck, kissing along the path to his pulse point, biting down and making him shiver happily at the pain.
“oh, i’m sure that’s true,” he snorts, humming happily at the way your teeth graze his skin.
it’s sure to leave a mark—and it’s on purpose. you’re lips aren’t there to reward him, or to shower him in your usual fondness. this time, it’s a reminder. it’s to make sure he knows you’re the one—the only one who can touch him like this.
“i think you should be more affectionate,” you glower, lips pulling away from him to form a sweet, precious little pout. it warms his heart, enough that he doesn’t miss the press of them against his skin as much as he normally would now that he gets to see that perfect little curl of your mouth. “i rescued you out of prison, you know.”
scar is never shy with his affection—but that doesn’t always mean he’s generous with it. sometimes, he withholds. just to be teasing, just to make you ache for it, just to be a bit cruel. it’s never enough to go too far, but it’s just enough to let him have his fun.
you don’t usually mind it. not until he seems to be generous with someone else.
“well now,” he drawls his words, almost like he’s playing a sick, twisted game. you think he is, watching him narrow his eyes in amusement as he leans closer, hovering his lips just above yours as he says, “rescue is a bit of a strong word, don’t you think? of course, i’d be fine escaping on my own, but needing a little aid here and there holds no shame, hm?”
you pull back as he leans even closer, not letting him feel the satisfaction of your lips against his own, glaring at him as you huff. you’re thoroughly unimpressed, and you want it known. (of course, all things considered, it’s a rather soft glare—as aggravating as scar can be, he’s easier to love than he is to be infuriated with. you know he knows it too, if the smug tug of his lips speaks for anything. still, you’re not pleased, and you think he should be made abundantly aware regardless).
“i could’ve left you in there,” you purse your lips, “stuck in that cell with hardly enough food and water because of that girl you’re so interested in.”
“oh?” he quirks a brow with a gleam in his eyes—so excited, so enthused by the prospect of your bitterness as you sulk, “is that jealousy i see on that beautiful face? oh my, we can’t have that, can we, my dear?”
“oh, am i your dear? i distinctly remember you calling her that too,” you huff, pulling back from him as you cross your arms.
he stops you, arms wrapping around your back and pulling him up his lap to press against his chest, closer and closer and even closer, until his mouth is back to being millimeters away from yours, hot breath fanning over you and sending goosebumps along your skin. he’s evil, too—traces the raised bumps with a delicate finger along your arm, chuckling at the way you shiver slightly.
“oh, this simply won’t do,” he pouts theatrically, “i didn’t think you’d take that so personally, sweetheart. you understand, don’t you? i was just trying to earn her trust.”
“hmph,” you turn away from him, looking off to the side stubbornly as you add, “i didn’t realize you’d have to have a happy little date, as i recall it, in order to earn trust. is her trust really all you want?”
“why, of course,” he gasps, hands cupping your face to bring your gaze back on him, his palms squeezing your cheeks together as your lips slightly pucker from the action, “how could i ever have it in me to want someone else when i have such a precious sight right before me? hm?”
that’s the thing about scar. so nice when he wants to be, so good with words, so easy to drip saccharine promises from his tongue like honey—sweet enough to mask the lethal taste of venom. one drop is all it takes to kill you. one drop is all it takes to weaken you to be his prey.
but you like it. you like this sick, twisted little game he plays. you like him when he makes you want him so bad, you long for a girl you’ve never even met to drop dead for ever getting fractionally close to him—even if it was all under a facade.
scar is never shy about his affections, but he makes you work for them. makes you earn them as he dangles them over your head. but you’re just as stubborn as he is cruel, never scared to make him earn your affections just as much as he makes you earn his.
you hum in thought, hand trailing down to his crotch as you trace along the zipper over his cock. he’s already semi-hard, much to your satisfaction. he doesn’t have the shame to seem embarrassed by it, either—grinning wider as he stares into you with a darkened glint in his eyes.
“i should’ve left you in that jail cell,” you mutter.
he pouts, so theatric as he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. “don’t break my heart. i thought about you every second i was stuck in there, you know? it hurts my feelings when you say such cruel things.”
“oh does it?” you ask flatly, tracing the outline of his hardening erection through his pants. he hums and nods, letting out a soft, breathy moan as your palm at his clothed cock. “tell me something. would you kill her for me?”
“how extreme. that would be quite a shame,” he laughs, “she could be so useful, you know?”
you press the heel of your palm harder into him, earning a grunt as his hands grip your waist tightly with closed eyes. “would you?” you insist.
he opens his eyes to meet yours, dark with lust, sparkling with unyielding affection as he breathes, “of course. but you know that already, don’t you?”
you do. scar would kill anything—anyone. you like that. cherish it, even. blood would spill and life would drain before your love could die, and you like it that way. marvel in it. how satisfying it is, to have a man like him under your thumb, so intent to cross his already nonexistent lines just for you.
“good,” you finally smile, rewarding him with a proper kiss. he smiles himself against your mouth, letting you swallow his moans as your hand undoes the zipper over his crotch, pulling his hard, flushed cock free from its confinements as you slowly smear the precum along the swollen tip with your thumb.
he groans, biting your lip before he murmurs, “i missed this too in that cold little jail cell of mine. i missed how warm you always feel around me.”
your hand wraps around the thick girth, pumping the hot, velvety flesh as it twitches slightly in your hand. the filthy, squelching sound of your wet strokes mix with his low moans, a satisfying sound to your ears as you watch his face slack with pleasure, mouth parting to make the noises he knows inflate your ego.
scar is shameless enough to be loud, at least. it works both to your advantage and disadvantage at times. it’s certainly something you appreciate when you hear the proof of his pleasure, right there as the sounds bleed into you against your ear with hot breaths. but sometimes, when he takes you in not so hidden places, so risky and so dangerous of being caught, you appreciate his shamelessness a little less.
he’s never bothered by it, though. you think he’d love it, even, if anyone were to witness him fuck into you—so utterly careless of anything else other than having you as his.
his. because you do love being his, as difficult and infuriating as it might be.
“fuck, you always feel so good too,” he continues. he’s always so talkative, even when he’s dangerously at risk of cutting himself off with breathy, labored groans. you lean in, kissing along the scar of his left cheek as he whispers, “you feel that, don’t you? how hard i am just for you. what is there to be jealous of, sweetheart?”
“you should only be having dates with me,” you squeeze his cock tighter as you huff the words, stroking along his length quicker, earning a choked sound from him as he digs his fingers into your hips harder—it’s almost bruising. “the only one you should be calling my dear is me.”
“oh but you’re just so cute when you’re mad,” he pants through his laughs, closing his eyes and letting his forehead fall to your shoulder, humming before he bites into you as he muffles his sounds, “i can’t help myself. it’s nothing personal, okay? just a little good fun, that’s all.”
“i hate you,” you say petulantly.
you don’t. that’s why your other hand cards through his sweaty locks as his orgasm approaches quicker and quicker, the thick, pulsing cock in your hand twitching in your hold as he gasps, “oh now you’re really hurting my feelings. how can you say something so, so harsh?”
“i hate her too,” you say darkly.
he cums at that. like witnessing your jealousy gets him off, like hearing the pure hatred in your voice excites him until thick, hot ropes of cum release from his swollen tip, coating your hand as you stroke him through his high. he groans, a labored call of your name falling from his lips as he bucks into your fist.
you like the sound of your name on his lips. he sounds so good like that, strained from his own pleasure, so sickeningly smitten as he utters the syllables of your name like it’s his favorite word.
he says it so pretty. so sweetly. so affectionately.
one thing’s for certain—you know he’s never, ever said her name like this.
“look at you,” he coos once he’s done spilling into your hand, catching his breath as his head pulls way from your shoulder. your good hand is still in his hair, pulling it slightly to angle it up to meet your face as he grins and teases, “aren’t you lovely? rewarding me even when you’re mad at me.”
you bring your cum coated fingers to your lips, licking a stripe of his release off your hand before you reply, “just reminding you that no one could make you feel like this.”
“oh, sweetheart,” he tugs you closer, brushing your crotch against his still hardened cock as you gasp, “i could never, ever forget. don’t you worry, my dear.”
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a) rover is cool and all but scar seems like he wants her so bad and it simultaneously is kind of hot but also kind of infuriating like you’re mine sir
b) a reader who’s low key crazy like him is the kind of trope i need. someone who will stab him and then kiss him, you feel me?
c) i need his cock zipper back i’m very mad they got rid of it. and i also need to see his cock too. i am, of course, disappointed as neither have happened so. :(
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lovelyney · 11 months ago
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────𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒────
IN WHICH: You accidentally whack Wriothesley in the nose during a training session and feel bad !!
PAIRINGS: Wriothesley x (GN!) Reader
SCENT: fluff but gets kind of nsfw towards the end ??
WARNINGS: uh wrio makes a comment implying masturbation towards the end? that and you guys just makeout, lol.
FLORIST’S NOTE: Reader is a mix between Wrio’s and Sigewinne’s assistant !! Also happy belated new years, blossoms !!
SONG: Bang! Bang! (K,NAAN & Adam Levine)
───────────2023 !! #©LOVELYNEY
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WRIOTHESLEY LAUGHS as you drag him through the Fortress of Meropide, drawing the attention of those around you. Though typically, you’d feel uncomfortable, embarrassed, or perhaps self-conscious under the scrutinizing gaze of others, this time, it’s different. Your attention is focused solely on Wriothesley as he holds his free hand up to his bloodied nose. Knowing Wriothesley and his job here, it’s easy to imagine it resulting from a scuffle with a particularly stubborn criminal or something along those lines. However, the truth cannot be farther from that. In actuality, you’re the one responsible for this bloody nose. . . Allow me to expand on the situation a little.
Around a week or so ago, he unexpectedly marched into your office and insisted you learn how to fight. His motives for the sudden declaration were not out of a lack of appreciation for your work at the Fortress but rather a desire for your protection while he’s away. On another note, he believes you’re too “reserved and gentle” with others—“too much like a frightened kitten rather than a fearsome lion,” as he blatantly put it. It was a comparison you found somewhat degrading, yet you couldn’t deny it did speak the truth of your nature. In the end, you decided to comply with his wishes, and from there on out, he started to teach you self-defense and train you.
Cut to the present: Wriothesley pulled you aside for your daily training session. Everything was going swimmingly at first, with you defending yourself from his attacks as usual. Then, amid it all, you accidentally hit him square in the nose and rather hard at that. The punch was neither intentional nor malicious, but it still managed to send him stumbling back and clutching his nose in pain. A tsunami of guilt and worry flooded your system as you frantically apologized to him, but he simply brushed it off and smiled. The look in his eyes was one of mild shock but also of something more. . . fond. He seemed amused rather than angry or annoyed, appearing to be impressed and even a little smitten.
Sigewinne enters the infirmary with the medical supplies you requested, stopping just inside the door to ask you a question. She furrows her brow in concern, noticing the panic in your expression. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of him, Mx. (Y/N)? You’re a bit pale. . . Maybe you should sit and rest for a little while,” she offers kindly.
Wriothesley observes you with a lovesick expression as you prepare a cotton swab, your tongue poking out between your lips from concentration. His heart singes when you take his hand that’s pressed to his nose and lay it gently on his lap; your skin is warm and soft compared to his, scarred and calloused, from his duties here at the Fortress.
When you assure her with that enchanting smile of yours—the same one that drives him wild—it feels like his entire body has been set on fire, and he’s certain you can feel that fire when you press your palm to his cheek to keep him still. “D—Don’t worry, Sigewinne. I’ll be alright. Thank you, though.” You answer calmly, despite your hold on him being slightly shaky.
With a brief nod of her head, Sigewinne slips out of the room, leaving you and Wriothesley alone. As you press the cotton swab to his nose, he lets out a sharp hissing sound as the disinfectant works its magic. “Ouch! Shit, maybe I didn’t give you enough credit. That was a hell of a punch. . .” he chortles, trying to lighten up your mood a little. But his amusement falters when you pout, your face a heartbreakingly adorable sight.
“I—I really am sorry, Your Grace! I didn’t expect to hit you so hard. . . In—In fact, I thought you’d move out of the way before I even got the chance too,” you lament and carefully tilt his chin up, making sure you cleaned all the blood off. “How badly does it hurt? Do—Do you want me to go get some painkillers or ice? Please, just—”
“Breathe, (Y/N).” Wriothesley’s tone is soothing as he speaks, seeming intent on consoling you. “I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart. I’ve dealt with far worse scuffs than this. So, please, don’t think for a second I’m mad at you or anything of that nature. I’m more proud than anything, really.” He adds, melting under the warmth and care of your gaze. He finds himself feeling a little selfish in this moment, wishing you’d always spend so much time doting on him. You’re always so engrossed in your work, and as much as he admires that side of you, he’s also become increasingly smitten with you without you even batting an eye. Your self-absorbed disposition has made you oblivious to his adoring eyes, and he can’t help but feel a mix of heartbreak and longing as he considers how blind you are to his affections. “Hm. . . Now that we’re alone, there is something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while,” he admits, humming contentedly as your hand presses to his face once more, oblivious to the surge of adrenaline that shoots through his veins with every touch. Your affectionate actions result from your nurturing demeanor, but he begs silently for them to mean something more.
Your puzzled expression, bearing a resemblance to a confused puppy, only further softens the gentle smile on Wriothesley’s face. “Is that so? Is—is there a reason you’re only bringing it up now?” You inquire anxiously, teeth sinking into your lower lip. You hope that your unexpected punch wasn’t the last straw for him firing you or something like that. The worry in your voice and tension in your body language betray your deep concern, and Wriothesley finds himself smitten by your innocence and tenderness.
The duke pauses momentarily, seeming to mull something over in his mind. “It’s been harder to get you alone these days, with you always engrossed in your paperwork or helping Sigewinne. I can’t bring myself to tear you away when you’re always so faithful.” He acknowledges. His eyes linger over your lips for just a moment too long, his imagination taking over as he considers the softness of them and how they taste. His heart pounds against his ribcage as he holds back the urge to kiss those teeth away and murmur how he’s the only one allowed to ruin your lips.
You mutter the words, “My apologies, your Grace,” as you press the bandage to the bridge of his nose. Taking a step back, you freeze under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, you have my full, unrivaled attention as of r-right now...?” You try to sound confident, but your sheepish expression gives you away.
Wriothesley hums in response, amused and enticed by the sudden color that washes over your face. Clearing his throat, he slips one hand around your waist and pulls you flush against his warm frame. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment as he allows the intensity of the moment to sink in. “Oh? Do I now? Good,” he purrs, his voice deep and velvety as it echoes in your ears—sending vibrations throughout your core. You shudder when the smooth of his fingers glide over the exposed skin on your waist, and he almost finds it a little sadistic with how much he’s enjoying you squirm when he hasn’t even done anything.
Your breathing becomes a touch erratic as you feel the lingering touch of his hand against your waist. You attempt to mask your growing excitement, skin prickling with electricity. Despite your best efforts, there’s a faint quiver in your words that you can only hope he doesn’t notice. “G—Go on. . .”
Sadly, nothing gets past Wriothesley’s gaze, and he’s able to take note of your trembling voice and hands; he isn’t the duke for nothing, after all. He can’t help but feel the boost to his ego when he realizes he has a tight grip over you at this moment. With a swift tug, you’re suddenly pushed against his broad chest, eyes blown wide. He chuckles as you choke over your words, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. “You know, (princess/prince). . . I can’t tell if you’re just dense or trying to prove something to yourself.” The raven-haired male teases. “I’ve been smitten with you for weeks now, you know,” he presses, eyes trained on your expression to read any changes. “I can’t help but wonder if you’re as aware as your actions suggest—or if you have been merely feigning ignorance. Please, explain yourself.”
Your breath catches in your throat as the magnitude of Wriothesley’s words settles in; he’s so direct and brazen with his declaration that it sucks all the breath out of your lungs. Your mind races as you grapple with the sudden realization that he is just as enamored with you as you are with him. Your expression must speak louder than words because as you open your lips to speak, Wriothesley closes the distance—slotting his mouth on yours.
It sends all your senses reeling like they’ve been drenched in ice water after burning for too long. Like a balm and a spark, it’s both a soothing salve and a blazing inferno, comforting and ravaging you in equal measure. All the tension of your attraction has suddenly become a physical manifestation, the culmination of all the unspoken words and feelings that have gone unsaid for too long.
Wriothesley pulls himself even closer to you, his passion only intensifying the longer the kiss carries on. The feeling of his body pressing against yours ignites a primal urge within you, driving the kisses to become more intense. His hands slide further down the bare flesh of your back, tracing your waist in a possessive claim to your body. His tongue dives underneath your bottom lip; it probes between them, trying to gain access to the interior of your mouth.
A noise akin to a muffled whimper escapes your throat as his tongue pushes into your mouth with a feverish, nearly desperate need. The intensity of the sensation is overwhelming, and you feel yourself shudder with a sense of raw desire as his hand slides down from your hip to your thigh, his fingers squeezing and digging into the soft flesh. His touch is both tender and possessive, sending your nerves reeling.
When his fingers climb closer up your thighs, you plant your hands on his face and gently push his head away, his mouth chasing after yours instantaneously. You sigh softly, your face flushed scarlet from the heat of the situation. “Wriothesley. . . We are still in your office. Anyone can walk in at any time.” You chuckle, swiping the saliva from his bottom lip.
His body hums with contentment at the breathless sound of his name coming from your lips. He lets out a displeased huff as he nestles his nose in the crook of your neck, sharply inhaling your scent and drowning himself in the warmth of your body. He absentmindedly starts nipping at your skin, “And? I’ve had enough nights getting off—”
“O—Okayokay! As an. . . apology for keeping you waiting, how about after work, we fulfill those fantasies of yours?” You chuckle nervously and thread your fingers through his hair, smiling when he leans his entire body onto you. “Don’t think I didn’t see the way some of the inmates looked at me when I dragged you in here. . . I don’t think I could recover if they walked in and found out they guessed right.”
Wriothesley’s laughter is like a deep, thunderous rumble that soon after swarms your stomach with butterflies. His kisses pepper your face in response, the sweet scent of your skin filling him with a sense of contentment. He pulls away and smiles down at you, the heat and adoration in his eyes impossible to miss. “After work, then,” he repeats and holds up his pinky, signaling you to do the same. Rolling your eyes, you indulge him and hook your pinky to his—a cutesy gesture veiled in a not-so-innocent promise. 
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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year ago
Text
I Can See You
pairing: Peter Parker x Happy’s daughter!reader
synopsis: You can see Peter being your addiction and Peter can see you as a secret mission
real synopsis: Happy forbids you and Peter from dating, which only makes you want to do it more
Masterlist
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“Hey.” You nodded at Peter as you wandered into his room. The hair on Peters neck stood up on high alert now that a stranger was in his bedroom. He shut his laptop and swiveled in his desk chair to follow what you were doing. He watched you walk over to his Lego shelf as if you’d been in his room a hundred times and admired his Lego titanic.
“Um, hello. Can I help you?” Peter asked.
“Did you build this?” You asked in reply.
“Oh, yeah. I did. It took me almost a full month.”
“Wow. It’s huge.” You said and gently ran your hand along the side of it.
“I know. It’s kinda cramped in here, though. I want to display it in the living room.” Peter told you. His tingle was telling him you weren’t a threat so now he just saw you as a pretty girl who had wandered into his room.
“You totally should display this thing. It’s awesome. What’s stopping you?” You wondered.
“The family pictures in the way.” Peter laughed dryly.
“Psh. Who needs those?” You joked, making him smile.
“Not me.” Peter played along. “But my aunt might be just a little upset if I replaced photos of her dead brother and dead husband with my Lego titanic.”
“That’s nothing. My dad replaced my high school graduation picture with a photo of his dead best friend eating a cheeseburger. It’s not even a good picture. It’s blurry and my dads pinky is in the frame.”
“Damn, your graduation picture? That’s next level. Either he really loved his best friend or it was a really good cheeseburger.”
“Probably both.” You shrugged. “Uncle Tony knew all the best cheeseburger spots in Queens.”
“Wait, Tony? Like Tony Stark?” Peter asked and stood up from his desk chair.
“Yeah, Tony Stark. Oh, that’s right. I forgot you knew him.” You said and tapped the side of your head.
“Your dads best friend.” Peter said to himself. “Wait a second. Are you…”
“Y/n Hogan. Your aunt invited my dad and I over for dinner.” You said and you held your hand out.
“Wait, you’re Happy’s daughter? But you’re so pretty.” Peter said in disbelief as he shook your hand.
“What?” You laughed.
“I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. Your dad is a very beautiful man. I can see the resemblance.” Peter quickly followed up.
“Seeing the resemblance is impressive considering I was adopted.” You laughed again and continued looking around his room. You saw his Spiderman suit hanging in the closet and touched it with a fond smile on your face.
“Oh God. Can we start over? I feel like I failed at this conversation.”
“You didn’t. I actually think you’re doing a pretty good job talking to me considering the deep lore that runs between us and our mutual acquaintances.” You assured him.
“Oh.” He blushed. “Thanks.”
“No problem. So did this thing come with a Lego iceberg?” You asked and pointed to the Lego titanic.
“No. That would’ve been perfect. But unfortunately, Lego didn’t have a dark sense of humor.”
“But I do. Do you have any blue legos?” You asked with a devious smile.
“Yeah. What are you thinking?”
A few minutes later, you and Peter were sitting on his bedroom floor with his Lego bin between you. You led the conversation, much to Peters delight, as you added onto each others creations. Even though Peter was usually shy and awkward around strangers, he found it very easy to talk to you. Maybe it was because you were already apart of his secret world and he didn’t have to lie about anything, or maybe it was just because you got along. Whatever it was, Peter really enjoyed talking to you. You felt more like an old friend rather then a stranger. Happy came into the room after a little while and was surprised to see you already in there.
“Oh, there you are. I was looking for you. But I see you found Peter.” Happy said and gave Peter a stern look.
“You never told me you had a daughter.” Peter playfully scolded him to keep the mood light.
“That’s because I don’t disclose any personal information to teenagers in spandex.” Happy said curtly.
“Dad. Be nice.” You whispered harshly.
“What are you guys doing in here anyway?” Happy asked as he folded his arms.
“Making a Lego iceberg for Peters Lego titanic.” You explained and held up what you had built so far.
“Interesting, interesting. Peter, can I talk to you for a second?” Happy said through a fake smile.
“Yeah. Sure. Be right back.” He told you before getting up to follow Happy into the hallway.
“What’s up?” Peter asked kindly.
“Don’t even think about it.” Happy said immediately.
“Huh? Don’t think about what?”
“My daughter. Don’t even let it cross your mind. Because if it crosses your mind, I’ll know about it. And if I know about it, I’m gonna kill you.”
“Wait, you think I’m trying to date your daughter? I just met her. Relax.” Peter laughed.
“No, I won’t relax. I don’t ever want to see my daughter in your bedroom, okay? That’s gross. I don’t want you getting your horny little nerd germs on her.”
“We were just playing with legos.” Peter pointed out.
“That’s always how it starts.” Happy wagged his finger. “I know your type. You lure girls in with your boyish charm because they think you’re safe.”
“I am safe, Happy.” Peter insisted. “You know me. You know I’d never break her heart.”
“I know you won’t. Because you won’t get the chance.”
“I’m sorry, but why is it okay for you to date my aunt but not for me to date your daughter?” Peter asked and folded his arms.
“Oh, so it has crossed your mind? I knew you were thinking about dating my daughter.” Happy pointed accusingly at him. “I knew it the second I walked into your room. You’re thinking about her right now, aren’t you? Well stop. My daughter is not allowed in your head, okay? Ever. Get her out.”
“I wasn’t thinking about dating her until you put the idea into my head. But I kinda want to do it now.” Peter laughed in amusement and looked back at his room where you were.
“Don’t you even dare.” Happy whispered and took a step closer to him.
“Or what? What’ll you do?” Peter challenged him. He didn’t even care that much about it, he just wanted to antagonize Happy for his own amusement.
“Kill you.” Happy stated like it was obvious. “Like I said.”
“What if she likes me? Huh?” Peter smirked. “You can’t tell her not to date me. That’ll just drive her straight into my arms.”
“That’s not gonna be a problem because she’ll never like you. She’s too smart.”
“I’m a good guy, Happy. Tony knew that. Wouldn’t you rather her date a nice, responsible guy that you’ve known for years over some random stranger whose intentions might be impure?”
“She can date a guy I know.” Happy shrugged. “Just not you.”
“We’ll see.” Peter shrugged as well.
“What? What does that mean? We’ll see? We’re not gonna see anything because you’re not dating my daughter.” Happy declared.
“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.” Peter shrugged again.
“No, you definitely won’t.”
“How are you gonna stop it?” Peter asked him.
“With a gun.” Happy replied. “That I use to kill you. To death.”
“I don’t think your daughter would appreciate you killing her future boyfriend.” Peter said innocently.
“You’re not her future boyfriend. You’re not her future anything. But you’re a future dead person if you keep this up.”
“Relax, Happy. I’m just messing with you. I’m not gonna date your daughter.” Peter laughed and patted Happy’s shoulder. Just then, you came out of Peters room with the Lego iceberg you had built.
“I’m gonna help May in the kitchen. Maybe I’ll accidentally knock down a few family pictures while I’m in there.” You said and winked at Peter.
“Why would you do that?” Happy asked you.
“Peter gets it.” You smiled coyly before disappearing down the hall and into the kitchen. Peter watched you walk away and felt something blossoming in his chest. That simple moment of sweet understanding between you was all he needed to fall head over heels for you.
“Happy?” Peter said without taking his eyes off where you had just been standing.
“Yeah?” Happy replied. Peter turned to face him, put his hand on Happy’s shoulder, and smiled sympathetically.
“I’m gonna date your daughter.”
Before Happy could respond, May called everyone in for dinner. Peter and Happy exchanged a look before throwing on smiles so that you and May wouldn’t suspect anything. Happy sat across from Peter with you sitting beside him, meaning that every time Peter looked at you, he got a kick under the table from Happy. Similarly, anytime you tried to ask Peter a question or start a conversation with him, Happy cut you off. Peter tried to do the same with you but was always met with a death glare from Happy. The incredibly silent and awkward dinner ended all too soon and Happy could not have taken you out of Peters apartment fast enough. You waved to Peter as Happy pulled you out the door but there was no time for an exchanging of words. What a beautiful wedding jk jk iykyk.
Peter was fully prepared to let his little crush on you go away on its own without any intention of acting on it. He knew it was a bad idea anyway to get involved with the daughter of the head of security, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about you from time to time.
“Hey Happy. I just wanted to report that I found a lost dog today. But then it ran away again after I returned to to the owner. I’m starting to think it wanted to be lost. Maybe he met a bunch of stray dogs and felt more at home with them on the streets than he ever did in his owner’s apartment. What do you think?” Peter asked over FaceTime as he gave Happy his daily report from patrolling the neighborhood.
“Kid, I don’t care. I never have. You don’t need to keep calling me with random updates of what you do on patrol.” Happy told him. In the background of Happy’s video, Peter could see you walking into the room with nothing but a towel wrapped around yourself and your wet hair hanging around your face. He perked up and felt his face heat up at the sight of you.
“Is that Peter?” You asked and walked over to where Happy was sitting.
“No. It’s not.” Happy said and tried to shut his laptop.
“Hi Peter.” You opened it back up and waved, leaving you with only one hand to hold your towel onto your body. Peter turned bright red as he stared at the screen and felt all dialogue options leave his mind.
“Oh, uh, hi.” He stammered. “I didn’t see you there. I didn’t even know you were home. How’s it going?”
“Pretty good.” You shrugged. “What kind of dog was it?”
“What?”
“The dog you found. What breed?” You asked with genuine interest. Peter smiled at you wanting to know and felt his blush deepen.
“Chihuahua. His name was Pinto.”
“Aw.” You smiled. “That’s so cute.“
“Oh, yeah. Very cute. Very, very cute.” Peters eyes glazed over as he stared at your through the screen. Happy looked back and forth between Peter and you before realizing what Peter was staring at.
“I’m hanging up now.” Happy warned.
“Wait-“
The call ended abruptly and Peter was left alone staring at a black screen. If Happy was going to stop him from seeing you, he would going to have to get creative.
A few nights later, Peter formed a new plan. If Happy was gonna date his aunt, he was going to use it to his advantage.
“Oopsie. I just accidentally ordered two pizzas instead of one. Silly me. What will we do with all this incoming pizza?” Peter asked as he dramatically scratched the top of his head to make it look like he was thinking.
“I don’t know.” May shrugged. “Eat a lot of pizza?”
“That’s a great idea, May. Or, and this is just coming to me now, what if we invite Happy over to eat some? So you guys can have a little date night. He even can bring his daughter. What was her name again? Telulah? Annabeth? Marcy?”
“Y/n?” May chuckled and raised her eyebrow.
“Right. Her.” Peter played dumb. “She probably likes pizza, right?”
“I know what you’re doing, but I’m gonna go with it anyway because there’s no way we can eat two pies and I hate wasting food.” May playfully scolded him as she dialed Happy’s number.
Much to Peters delight, you and Happy showed up a few minutes later. You were standing behind your dad with a bag behind your back.
“Hey. Thanks for the invite.” Happy said and kissed Mays cheek. You looked at Peter over your dads shoulder and waved.
“No problem.” May replied. “It was actually Peters idea.”
“Oh, was it?” Happy asked and stared daggers at Peter. Peter shrugged innocently before making eye contact with you. He discreetly nodded towards his bedroom before going to it. You followed after him once the coast was clear.
“Hey.” You smiled at him and shut his door behind you.
“Hey. Thanks for coming over. I’m glad you could make it.” Peter played it cool but was screaming on the inside over you being in his room again.
“I’m glad you invited us. I have a present for you but I didn’t have any way of getting in touch with you.”
“You wanna touch me?” Peter said in a low voice as he stared at you with his eyebrows raised.
“What was that?”
“I said you have a present for me?” He quickly corrected himself and threw on a smile.
“Uh huh. Look what I found.” You held the bag up and pulled out the Lego Super Star Destroyer, a Lego set Peter had dreamed of owning since he was a kid.
“What?! You got this for me?” He jumped out of his chair and held the box to read it.
“Yeah. You mentioned last time that you always wanted this one. I know you’re a big fan of the movies so I wanted you to have it.” You smiled sheepishly as you stared at him. His childlike excitement and wonderstruck expression made him even cuter than you typically found him. His expression changed suddenly when he realized he could never accept such a costly gift.
“This set costs a fortune. You really didn’t have to do this.” Peter looked apologetic as he looked into your eyes. You laughed a little at how bad he felt and put your hand on top of his.
“It’s okay. I wanted to do it.” You assured him. “Plus, Uncle Tony put me in his will so I’m kinda flushed with cash right now. I would’ve just spent the money on something stupid. And I know he loved you so he’d be happy I used the money to buy a Lego set for us.”
“Us?” Peter cracked a smile and felt his excitement return.
“Yeah. I thought we could build it together while my dad makes out with your aunt.” You suggested.
“Gross.” Peter grimaced. “But the part about building it together sounds fun.”
Now that he was willing to keep it, you tore the box open and dumped the pieces out. You and Peter sat next to each other with your knees touching as you built the spaceship. Peter snuck glances at you every now and then, and you caught them every time. You accidentally made eye contact at one point and he turned pink.
“You know, my dads been up my ass all week because of you.” You said with a soft laugh.
“Me? What did I do?”
“I don’t know. Did you tell him we were dating or something?” You questioned him, making him gulp.
“Actually, he told me not to date you.” Peter admitted.
“He told me the same thing. Little does he know, that just makes me want to date you even more.” You replied. Peter froze and realized that if what Happy said made you want to date him more, that meant you already wanted to date him in the first place. You realized that you had said too much at the same time Peter did and looked at him out of the corner of your eye to see if he was weirded out. To your surprise, he was staring at you with a soft expression. He quickly cleared his throat and looked away when you caught him staring.
“Doesn’t he know that the hottest thing a guy can do is be disliked by the girls dad?” Peter said like it was obvious.
“Exactly. I told him disapproving of you was just going to send me straight into your arms. And who could even blame me? They’re really nice arms.” You shrugged and gave Peter a coy smile. Peter laughed shyly and busied himself with the legos so you wouldn’t see him blushing.
“What did he say to that?” He asked you.
“That there will be a cold day in hell before he lets me go out with you.” You laughed.
“And what did you say?” Peter asked as he looked up at you and found that you were already looking at him.
“I told him that he can’t tell me who to date and if I wanted to go out with you, I will.” You said simply. Peter gulped and never broke eye contact with you and he reached for a Lego brick. Your hands accidentally touched and he saw sparks fly.
“Do you want to go out with me?” He asked quietly. You opened your mouth to answer just as May opened hers.
“Hey, kids. Pizzas here.” May said as she appeared in Peters doorway. You looked at him apologetically before getting up and following May to the kitchen. He desperately wanted to get you alone again to finish your conversation, but Happy was never gonna let that happen.
It came time for you and Happy to leave and Peter was visibly disappointed. As Happy and May said their goodbyes, you pulled Peter to the side.
“Goodnight, Peter. I had fun tonight.” You said sincerely.
“So did I. Thank you again for the legos. It’s the nicest thing anyones ever done for me.”
“I’m glad you liked them. Hopefully I’ll see you again. Hopefully soon.”
“Yeah. Totally.” Peter nodded eagerly.
You held out your hand to shake Peters, which Peter found a little strange. But when he shook your hand, he felt you slip a piece of paper into his. Peter waited until Happy was out the door before opening the paper up. Written in your handwriting was your phone number. Peter looked up in surprise and made eye contact with you.
“Call me.” You mouthed to him and made your hand like a phone just as Happy pulled you away.
And that’s exactly what Peter did. It became your nightly secret mission to sneak off and call Peter once you were sure Happy was asleep or preoccupied in front of the TV. You would talk for hours in hushed voices so no one would hear.
“Can you imagine what my dad would do if he found us out?” You asked Peter one night as you hung over the edge of your bed to talk to Peter.
“So there’s an us to find out about?” Peter asked and felt grateful you couldn’t see his blush over the phone.
“I don’t know.” You smiled timidly. “I really like talking to you, Peter.”
“Well that’s good. I’m happy to hear that. Because I like it too.” He laughed shyly.
“I think about you a lot when we’re not on the phone.” You admitted as you switched positions and rolled onto your stomach.
“You do?” Peter gulped.
“Uh huh. All the time.”
“What do you think about?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe half the things I see inside my head.” You chuckled. Peter gulped again and felt his face heat up. He cleared his throat before speaking again.
“Why don’t you explain it to me then?” He asked. Before you could answer, a loud crash sounded from his side of the phone.
“What’s all that noise?” You asked him.
“Mays looking for the pasta maker.” Peter sighed. “We have a thousand boxes of mezzi rigatoni but she wanted fettuccini.”
“Fettuccine actually sounds amazing right now. I need to get up and make some food. I just hope my dad went grocery shopping or else I’m eating sleep for dinner.”
“You should come over tonight.” Peter said before he would overthink it.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Come make pasta with us. May usually burns something and then gives up about 15 minutes into cooking so we wouldn’t have to hang out with her the whole time. We could make pasta together. Just the two of us.”
“Okay. My dads watching a movie in the den so he won’t mind if I go out. I’m in.” You smiled and started to get ready to see him.
“Awesome. Great. See you soon.” Peter grinned and hung up the phone. He quickly brushed his teeth and put on a fresh shirt before joining May in the kitchen. There was a knock on the door soon enough and Peter practically ran to open it.
“Ciao.” He said as he flung the door open.
“Ciao, bello.” You replied. “Scopiamo stasera o cosa?”
“Wait, what? I don’t actually speak Italian.” Peter sheepishly.
“That’s probably for the better.” You laughed and walked into his apartment.
“Oh, good. You’re here. And you brought wine! Even better. Come in, come in.” May kissed your cheek before taking the bottle of wine and opening it.
“Peters been dying for you to get here.” She whispered in your ear, but loud enough for Peter to hear.
“May.” Peter whined and motioned for her to zip it.
“What? I’m just being honest.” May shrugged. “Honesty is the best policy. That’s what I always say.”
“She’s right. That’s a great policy.” You said and gave Peter a look.
“Oh yeah? Does your dad know you’re here?” Peter asked you and folded his arms, already knowing the answer. Your smile dropped when you realized he was right.
“A little lie never hurt anybody.” You replied. Peter smirked, knowing he caught you.
“Come here. I’ll show you how to make the dough.” Peter said and led you to the kitchen with his hand on your back. You and Peter made the pasta dough while May chopped up some tomatoes and made a sauce. May switched the radio on to play some instrumental background music that made the apartment feel like a small cafe in Italy.
“All right. I think we’re ready. I’m gonna get the pasta maker. It should be in the attic.” May broke up the party and put the meatball back in the sauce.
“If you can’t find it, what do we do with all this dough?” You asked her.
“I don’t know. Make a shit ton of Pizza.” May shrugged and left to go find the pasta maker.
“Okay then.” You chuckled. Once you and Peter were alone, you hoped up on the counter and leg your legs swing.
“Should we try it to make sure it tastes good?” You asked as you rolled some dough between your fingers and made a snake.
“Yeah, but not that piece. You made a worm.” Peter said and pointed to your dough.
“So what? It’s just dough. Try some.” You replied and dangled the dough in his face.
“Dough way.” He laughed at his own pun and swatted the dough away.
“Oh, we’re making pasta puns now? You’re gonna pay for that.” You playfully warned him.
“But I dough not want it.” Peter pouted and leaned on the counter you were sitting on so you were caged in between his arms. You both became aware of how close you were at the same time and laughed shyly.
“Can’t think of anything other than replacing “do” with “dough” huh?” You asked and raised an eyebrow.
“Dough, I can’t.” He shamefully admitted. You gave him a look and he held up his hands in defense.
“That one was different.” He pointed out.
“All right. I’ll give it to you. Now eat the pasta worm.” You playfully demanded and dangled it in his face again.
“No. Get that thing away from me.” He laughed and smacked it away. It flew across the room and stuck to a nearby cabinet with a loud smack.
“Wow. Look at that.” Peter said, genuinely dumbfounded.
“It’s kinda beautiful.” You said as you quietly stared at the pasta in awe. Peter turned to look at you and rested his hands back on the counter.
“You’re kinda beautiful.” He said in a soft voice. You tore your eyes away from the pasta to look at him but couldn’t form a single word.
“Even with flour on your face.” He chuckled and wiped a smudge of flour off your cheek with his thumb. You gulped and discreetly picked up some flour off the counter.
“You have some flour on your face too.” You told him as you stared into his eyes.
“Where? Here?” Peter asked and touched his cheek.
“No. Here.” You smirked before throwing the handful of flour at him. Peter coughed and waved his hand to get it away from his face.
“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.” He warned and grabbed a handful of flour. He went to throw it at you but you caught him by the wrist to stop him. Peter wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him so that you couldn’t block his next attempt. But instead of feeling flour on your face, you felt Peter kissing you. You weren’t actually sure if you kissed him or he kissed you, but you didn’t really care. You wasted no time in tangling your hands on his hair and deepening the kiss. His hands slid up and down your back before finding their way up your shirt. You felt your entire body heat up as you kissed him and felt all the tension that had been building up release into the atmosphere between you. He kissed you until you felt dizzy but you didn’t stop even then. You started to unbutton his button down when the moment was interrupted.
“Found it!” May called from the hallway. You jumped apart so quickly that you fell right off the counter. You screamed on the way down as Peter watched with his hands over his mouth. He rushed to pick you up just as May came back into the kitchen. She took one look at the flour covering the two of your, most noticeably the flour handprints on either of Peters cheeks, and knew what had happened.
“Oh my God. What happened in here?” May played dumb.
“Fell.” You and Peter said in unison.
“Oh no. Are you okay?”
“Maybe?” You smiled weakly and rubbed your throbbing head. Peter touched his hands, which now felt cold from the absence of you.
“Oh my God. How did you get flour all over your back?” May laughed and turned you around to see the flour Peter had left all over your clothing.
“I’m a messy girl.” You shrugged and hoped she’d buy it.
“Look at that. The flour on Y/n’s butt looks like a perfect handprint. How funny is that?” May laughed again and pointed to the handprint Peter had left on your black leggings. He turned so red that he had to turn around so May wouldn’t see it.
“I’m gonna go potty.” You said quickly and ran to the bathroom.
“She okay?” May asked once you were gone.
“Her? What? Yeah. She’s fine. Nothing weird happened while you were gone.” Peter said a little too quickly.
“Hm. How did that piece of pasta get stuck to the cabinet?” May asked and pointed to the pasta Peter had flung.
“I’m not sure.” Peter lied.
“Are you feeling okay? Your face and neck is all red.” May asked and pressed her hand to Peters forehead. He knew she was getting suspicious and had to think of a lie to get out of there.
“I have to poop.” Peter blurted and walked out of the kitchen.
“Y/n is in there.” May called after him.
“I’ll go to the other bathroom!” He shouted back.
Peter passed the bathroom in the hallway and stopped outside of it. He pressed his ear against the door to try and hear if you were freaking out or not.
Which you 100% were.
“What the hell are you doing? You can’t just kiss him. You slut bag! You hussy! You don’t even know how he feels about you.” You whispered to the mirror. You splashed some cold water on your face to calm down before looking at your reflection.
“Woman up and get your shit together. Go out there and make pasta with your dads girlfriends nephew like a fucking normal person.” You warned yourself in the mirror.
The bathroom door suddenly opened and Peter fell inside. You gasped and pulled him the rest of the way in before shutting the door.
“I’m sorry! I wasn’t doing anything!” Peter said quickly.
“What are you doing out here?!” You whispered harshly.
“Nothing! I just wanted to talk!” He whispered back in a panic.
“So you wait outside the bathroom door? What if I was pooping?! You would’ve heard it.” You whispered even louder and angrily shook his shirt.
“But I didn’t.” He said weakly.
“I think I need to go home.” You sighed and left the bathroom.
“Wait, no. Please stay.” Peter pleaded as he followed after you. He caught you in the hallway and gently pulled your arm to get you to stop.
“I can’t. I can’t go back in there. She’s gonna know something sus happened.” You whispered to him and pointed to the kitchen.
“It wasn’t sus. But I really think we need to talk about it.” Peter said and looked at you with his big puppy dog eyes. You knew he was dying to talk about it and you felt guilty leaving him after what happened.
“Peter, look. I’m really sorry that I kissed you-“
“I’m not.” He cut you off and pushed you against the wall. The interrupted kiss was resumed and even more passionate than the last. He had you up against the wall as he kissed you as if he hadn’t seen you in years. You forgot all about the pasta and your dads warning and just got lost in his touch. You both knew it was wrong and that you could be caught any second, and that’s what made it feel so right. Peter squeezed your hip, signaling you to jump up and wrap your legs around his waist. You couldn’t feel him smiling into the kiss as he pressed you against the wall. That was the moment you knew you were never giving this boy up, no matter what your father said.
“Peter! Y/n! What happened to my sous chefs?” May shouted from the kitchen. You pulled apart and stared at each other as you caught your breath.
Peter gently set you back down on the floor but stayed in your personal space as he leaned against the wall. You never broke eye contact with him as he fixed a strand of hair that he knocked onto the wrong side of your part. You gulped and smoothed your clothing down before looking away.
“Can we talk after? Please? Don’t go home.” Peter pleased as he buttoned his shirt back up. You looked him up and down and knew you were at his mercy.
“Fine. You’ve convinced me. I’ll stay.” You agreed. Peter smiled in relief and led you back to them kitchen.
“Look who decided to join us.” May smiled proudly and stepped to the side to reveal Happy standing behind her. Peters knees buckled and he immediately fainted onto the ground. You caught him and let him lean on you as you waved your hand in front of his face to wake him up.
“Dad? What are you doing here?” You asked through a big fake smile.
“I could ask you the same thing.” He said through an even faker smile.
“I was making Peter with Pasta. I mean, pasta with Peter.” You stumbled over your words as Peter came to and nearly fell over again. You held him upright but his waist until he could stand on his own. Happy was watching the whole thing and growing more suspicious by the second.
“Hm. You didn’t mention you were going over my girlfriends house when you said you were going out. I find that a little strange. Don’t you?” Happy shrugged as he folded his arms.
“Maybe I find you a little strange.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.
“Now that Happy’s here we’re gonna need some more pasta. Honey, can you knead the rest of the dough?” May asked you.
“Sure. I can dough that.” You laughed nervously. Happy gave you a strange look and you gulped.
“I’m sorry. I kiss-poke. I mean, misspoke.” You gulped again and went over to the dough. Peter went to follow you and earned a longing glare from Happy as he did. The two of you bumped into each other and dropped things on the floor numerous times from how nervous you were now that Happy was there. Once Happy and May disappeared to the couch to drink wine, Peter knew it was safe to talk.
“Stop being weird.” He whispered to you.
“I’m about to murder-suicide us.” You said at full volume.
“Peter, can you help her? You gotta put your elbow grease into it.” May called from the couch.
“Yeah. I can dough that.” Peter replied.
“Stop making dough puns.” You hissed.
“I literally fucking can’t.” He deadpanned. You suddenly felt his arms wrap around you as he put his hands on top of yours to knead the dough.
“What are you doing?” You asked him.
“Helping you knead the dough.”
“Why wouldn’t you just stand beside me?”
“Because this is how men show women how to do things in rom coms.” Peter said very seriously.
“Okay, but we’re not in a rom com. We’re in real life in your real kitchen with my dad who has a real gun.”
“He won’t shoot me. I’m his girlfriends only nephew. I’m untouchable.”
“And so am I as long as my father is present.” You said and slipped out of his arms.
“Is everything okay over there?” Happy asked from the couch.
“Yes.” You and Peter shouted back in unison. You finished with the dough and brought it over to the pasta maker.
“You better speed run this fucking pasta before I lose my mind.” You whispered in his ear.
“I’m going as fast as I can.” Peter whispered back as he put the dough in the pasta maker as painstakingly slow as possibly. The pasta maker squeaked as he turned the handle and echoed off the walls of the silent kitchen. You could feel sweat running down your face and started to fan yourself.
“I can’t handle this. My dad is gonna know what we did.” You said and gave your hair a stressful tug.
“We haven’t done anything wrong.” He pointed out as he finished up with the pasta. You nodded in agreement and picked up the pasta he had made.
“Yet.” He added and stole a kiss against your neck. You gasped and put your hand where his lips had been.
“What are you doing? My dad is in the next room?”
“I know. That’s what makes it so exciting.” Peter said and leaned in to kiss you again.
“The water should be boiling by now. Can you start putting the pasta in?” May asked as she appeared in the kitchen. You quickly turned around and pretended to be doing something so she wouldn’t suspect anything.
“Sure.” Peter smiled calmly at her and put the pasta into the boiling water. May went back to the living room, leaving you and Peter alone once again. You picked up a wooden spoon and pushed the pasta around the pot in an attempt to look busy.
“I can see you. Stop staring at me.” You said when you felt Peters eyes on you. You looked up and sure enough, he was watching you with a soft expression.
“I’m sorry. I can’t help it.” He said as he walked over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and pulled you into him. It felt nice for a moment but you knew it shouldn’t be happening.
“I am off limits, okay mister? You cannot be staring at me like that.” You whispered and slipped out of his arms.
“Off limits? What does that mean?” He played dumb.
“It means that we cannot happen.” You said and gestured between the two of you. “We can never, ever happen. My dad will reign hell fire on you for even thinking about it. And he’ll reign regular fire on me because I’m his daughter which will be less hot but still really bad.”
“Psh.” Peter scoffed. “I’m not scared of him.”
“You should be. He has access to all of Uncle Tony’s weapons. So unless you want to get blown up or turned inside out, you need to stop. That’s means stop staring at me, stop touching me, and definitely stop kissing me.” You whispered as you got in his face. Peter smirked now that he had you close again and put his hands on your hips. You gulped and looked anywhere but his eyes as he got close to you.
“You want me to stop kissing you?” He asked as he tilted your chin up to look in his eyes.
“Yes.” You replied, but it came out like more of a question than a statement.
“Are you sure?” He asked and moved in even closer. His lips brushed yours when he spoke and you felt your eyelids flutter shut. Right before your lips could touch, you covered your mouth and stepped back.
“No. No more. We can’t.” You said behind your hand. Peter smiled sadly and nodded his head. He looked disappointed but like he understood.
“I know we can’t happen.” He said in a soft voice. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to.”
“It doesn’t matter what we want.” You gently reminded him and nodded towards the living room where Happy was.
“So you want it too?” He asked innocently and tilted his head to the side. You sucked in a sharp breath and thought about the way it felt when he had you up against the wall and how badly you wanted that again.
“Peter.” You breathed out.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful I find you?” Peter asked you. Footsteps approaching made you jump apart and turn your backs to each other.
“Hey guys. How’s the pasta coming?” May asked as she walked into the kitchen.
“It’s coming.” Peter replied.
“It’s definitely pasta.” You nodded in agreement.
“Great. I’ll set the table.” May laughed at your strange behavior and grabbed some plates. Once you were alone again, you answered Peters question.
“Yes.” You told him.
“What?”
“You asked me if I’d want this to happen too. My answer is yes.” You said and looked into his eyes. Peter smiled now that he knew you felt the same but didn’t want to let you off that easy.
“Oh. But then I asked you if you knew how beautiful I found you so I thought you were answering-“
“Shut up.” You laughed as you cut him off. Peter smiled fondly at you from across the kitchen and you felt yourself smile back.
“Do you really feel the same?” He asked, all teasing in his voice gone.
“I do. But I told you, it doesn’t matter what we feel. We can’t date. Ours is a forbidden love.”
“I know. That’s what makes me want you even more.” Peter said with a wicked smile. You stopped leaning on the counter and started to walk to Peter when your dad suddenly walked into the kitchen.
“What are you guys talking about?” Happy asked suspiciously when he noticed the love struck expression on both your faces.
“Dad.” You whined. “Don’t you knock?”
“Knock on what? You’re standing in the middle of the kitchen.” He pointed out. You and Peter exchanged a look, and then you and Happy exchanged a look. Happy looked at Peter and narrowed his eyes, making Peter panic.
“Dinners ready!” Peter shouted despite 75% of the people in the apartment being right in front of him.
“Um, Peter, the pasta is still raw. It’s only been in there a few minutes.” You reminded him.
“Dinner!” Peter said again. “Let’s sit and eat.”
You shrugged and went with it to keep your dad from getting suspicious. You drained the pasta and put it in a big bowl before Peter added the sauce on top. You brought it to the dining table that May had set and put it in the center. Everyone sat down and served themselves some pasta.
“So what’s new with everyone?” Happy asked.
“Nothing.” You and Peter said at the same time. You gave him a look and he gulped nervously.
“Is anything new with you?” You asked May politely.
“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “Talk about yourselves. Tell us everything.”
“Well, um, May and I have been thinking about getting married.” Happy said sheepishly. You spit out your water as Peters jaw dropped.
“Oh.” May smiled tightly. “I didn’t realize we were telling them.”
“Wait, married?” You asked them.
“Yeah. Thinking about it.” Happy nodded as May shook her head.
“But, uh, if you guys got married, what would that mean for us exactly?” You laughed nervously and gestured between you and Peter.
“Well, I’d become Peters uncle, so you guys would technically be cousins.” Happy shrugged as May nodded in agreement. A chill ran down your spine at the use of the “c” word. Peters mouth started to heavily salivate like it usually did before he threw up.
“Cousins?” You choked out.
“Or would they be siblings?” Happy wondered.
“Oh God.” You whimpered. “Not siblings. Anything but siblings.”
“No, just cousins.” May explained. “Because I would become Y/n’s stepmom but Peter isn’t my son so they would be cousins. But you guys could consider each other siblings if you really wanted to. It might be nice to have a sister, right Peter?”
“Stop talking.” Peter said in a grave voice as he gripped the table to keep from fainting again.
“Relax guys. It won’t be too weird. You’re basically cousins already.” May said with an innocent smile.
“Oh no. Don’t say that.” You whispered and clutched your stomach.
“I’m gonna throw up.” Peter said through a gag.
“Why?” Happy asked as he narrowed his eyes at Peter.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t you want to be cousins? It’s just you and me on holidays Wouldn’t it be nice to have a bigger family?” May asked Peter.
“Don’t call us “family”, please.” Peter said and gagged again.
“Yeah, no more.” You pleaded. “Not while we’re eating.”
“Are we missing something?” May asked.
“I don’t want her to be my cousin.” Peter grimaced and shook his head.
“Peter. That’s disrespectful.” May scolded him.
“No, it’s okay. I don’t want him to be my cousin either.” You assured her as you wiped some sweat from your forehead. You looked over at Peter and he was just as distraught if you were. He was pale and sweating and extremely close to breaking. You snapped your fingers at him under the table and motioned for him to keep his mouth shut. May and Happy exchanged a suspicion look at the strange behavior in front of them.
“Is there something you guys aren’t telling us?” May asked and leaned on her hand. She stared at Peter, who looked at you in a panic. You shook your head at him, making Happy frown in confusion. He turned to stare at Peter, and that’s what made Peter break.
“I made out with my cousin.” Peter blurted before gasping for air. You groaned and put your head down on the table as May and Happy reacted.
“You what with your what?” May scrunched her nose in disgust.
“You what with my what?” Happy asked and glared Peter.
“Haha. He’s just kidding.” You laughed nervously and waved your hand.
“He better be.” Happy stated without taking his eyes off Peter. Peter was staring all around the room at everything other than Happy.
“This pasta is amazing. Let’s all eat it and stop talking.” You said and shoved some pasta into your mouth.
“It’s a little undercooked.” May commented. “How long did you guys leave it in the water for?”
“Peter?” Happy asked calmly.
“Yes, sir?” Peter answered while looking up at the ceiling.
“Look at me.”
“Yes?” Peter said and looked near Happy, but not at him.
“Peter, look me in the eyes.” Happy commanded. “Right now.”
“I am.” Peter scoffed as he stared at Happy’s ear.
“Not at my ear. My eyes.”
Peter shut his eyes and turned to face Happy head on.
“Open your eyes.” Happy said through clenched teeth. Peter slowly opened one eye, then the other. Happy was glaring at him with a face redder than the sauce May had made.
“Did you make out with my daughter?”
“Which daughter?”
“The one sitting beside you. The only one I have.”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“Let me ask it again then. Did you or did you not make out with my daughter?”
“No.”
“Okay. Good.” Happy nodded in satisfaction.
“She made out with me.” Peter clarified.
“Peter!” You shouted and looked at him.
“You’re a dead man. He’s a dead man.” Happy declared and lunged across the table at Peter.
“Wait! She kissed me! I didn’t kiss her.” Peter defended himself as he scrambled to get out of his chair and run away from Happy.
“You did the second time.” You pointed out.
“Second time? There was a second time?” Happys voice got louder as he chased Peter around the table.
“Daddy, no. Don’t hurt him!” You protested and stood between your dad and Peter.
“Move it, honey. I’m gonna fight him. I’m gonna fight him up real nice.” Happy declared and grabbed the bowl of Italian bread off the table. He started throwing pieces at Peter, but Peter dodged every one.
“Stop dodging my bread!” Happy shouted and threw his last piece.
“Ha! You’re all out of bread.” Peter pointed at the empty bowl before hiding behind you.
“I’ll just have to use my hands.” Happy said and lunged for Peter again.
“Hold on. Step away from my nephew.” May said as she stepped in front of you and held Happy back. Happy stopped trying to attack Peter and caught his breath.
“Happy, you need to calm down.” May told him. “Your daughter isn’t your property. She’s a beautiful young woman. She is allowed to make her own decisions. And that includes deciding who she wants to date.”
“I know that.” Happy sighed. “She just can’t decide on him.”
“Why not, dad?” You asked him.
“For starters, he rented a very inappropriate movie when we were in Germany. No man who respects women would rent a movie called “Grinding Nemo”. I can’t have a guy like that dating my daughter.”
“I was like 15!” Peter whined. “I just bought the first one I found!”
“Grinding Nemo?” You turned and asked Peter.
“It’s like Finding Nemo but instead of fish it was this guy looking for this girls-“
“I don’t even want to know.” You cut him off.
“Happy, you know Peter.” May reminded him. “You know he’ll stop at nothing to protect the people he cares about. She’s in good hands.”
“But why do they have to be his hands?” Happy pointed to Peter and sat back down. You squeezed Peters shoulder before going to sit down beside your dad.
“May is right. You knew I was gonna start dating eventually. And you also know that Peter is a great guy. You should be glad someone like him turned my head. He’s nice, responsible, smart, respectful, and loved by Uncle Tony. So come on, dad. Let me date my cousin.”
“But Tony asked me to look after him. And I don’t always so the best job. I try, but you know he won’t listen if he has his mind set on doing something. God forbid something had ever happened to him….” Happy trailed off and looked down at the ground.
“You’d be letting down the two most important people in your life.” May finished his sentence with a sad smile.
“Its hard for me to remember you’re not a little girl anymore. I thought I would have more time to prepare for this.” Happy admitted. “And I thought Tony would be here to help me. But you’re just growing up so fast. I can’t keep up.”
“We’re both growing up, dad. But we’re doing it together so it’s less scary.” You told him as you put your hands on his shoulders. Happy smiled fondly at you before looking over your shoulder at Peter.
“Do you really like him?” He asked you.
“I do. He listens to me. And he makes me smile.”
“Gross.” Happy gagged.
“Dad.” You whined. “Stop it.”
Happy sighed and looked up at everyone in the apartment. When his eyes landed on Peter, he got up and went over to him. Peter raised his fists in case Happy tried to attack him again, but Happy lowered them.
“Peter, you have my blessing to date my daughter.” Happy said sincerely.
“You have my blessing too.” May spoke up. “But I don’t love the whole cousin aspect.”
“Me either.” You agreed. “Please never get married so we’re never actually cousins.”
“We were never actually talking about marriage. May just said “Aw” during an allergy commercial that showed a wedding.” Happy admitted.
“So we’re good then? We can date without it being incestuous or forbidden?” Peter asked hopefully and wrapped an arm around you.
“I guess so. Just no PDA in front of me, okay? I don’t need to be reminded of this. Ever.” Happy asked and Peter immediately removed his arm.
“No problem, sir.” Peter replied.
“I’m glad that’s settled. Let’s get back to the family dinner.” You smiled and sat back in your seat. Everyone scrunched their face in disgust and you realized your mistake. Calling it a family dinner now that everyone knew you and Peter had kissed and nearly become cousins made everyone a little queasy.
“I, um, I apologize for my choice of words.”
Tag List 🏷️
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101 @peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
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 @officialsimppage e @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
@olixerwxxd @whereismytelephone @leilanixx
@so-very-asleep @veryholland @white-wolf1940 @firwproof-blog
@nowayhomeparker @imobsessedzs @spideyspeaches
@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing
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coralinnii · 1 year ago
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Congratulations for 2.7k followers!!! For my request, I would like if you could write some sibling scenarios for the octatrio with a younger sibling who absolutely adores and looks up to them. They manage to visit NRC for some kind of event and the younger sibling just follows them around like a little puppy. Copying some of their mannerisms since they want to be just like their cool older brother. I just want to see some silly and fluffy platonic family moments with them, please. 〔´∇`〕
❋ Big Brother! ❋
↳ Younger sibling!reader visiting him (+ extra Leech brothers birthday special)
feat: Azul ⭑ Floyd ⭑ Jade
genre: platonic fluff, humour
note: no pronouns used with the reader, younger sibling!reader but age is unspecified, established filial relationships, reader is heavily implied to be merfolk, nicknames are used (little octopus, little one, little eel, kiddo)
2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023
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Since Azul’s mother divorced fairly early in Azul’s life, I would imagine that you would be Azul’s half-sibling born from his mother and stepfather. That doesn’t mean that Azul loves you any less.
He worked hard not only for himself, but for his younger sibling. Azul wanted to be someone who you can look up to. Someone strong, smart, successful, and most of all, admirable.
And he did a great job, because you can’t imagine anyone more amazing than your big brother Zuzu.
You managed to convince your parents to let you join their visit to NRC during their VDC festival. Even if Azul wasn’t involved with the competition itself, you always wanted to visit your big brother’s restaurant.
Imagine the merman’s surprise when he felt a pair of small hands pull on the edges of his coat. Your bright smile was brimming with joy seeing your brother get frazzled over your visit.
As much Azul wanted to entertain you, this time of year was an opportune time for business. He offered to let you stay in his big comfy office until he could find time for you.
However you refused, choosing to follow him around. Something you learned from Azul was unrelenting stubbornness, after all. You were content with grabbing hold of Azul's large coat as he walked suspiciously slower than usual. Another thing you learned from your dear brother? An itching desire for a good deal.
Your lovable charm was a hit with the customers who watched as you waddled after Azul, not quite used to feet yet. Nearby customers held in squeals as you wrapped yourself in your brother’s coat, watching Azul and mimicking the smiles and hand gestures that your brother was fond of, even pushing up the glasses you begged your parents to buy you, regardless if you needed them or not.
Enchanted, some of the customers requested a commemorative picture with you, which is where you took Azul’s skills for your practice.
“Hmm…if you buy Zuzu’s yummy drink, then I’ll take a picture. With a contract!”
With a poorly-made contract with messy ink splotches, you wore the biggest smile you could muster as you sent a thumbs-up to your brother, who couldn’t figure out if he should be absolutely flabbergasted or immensely proud.
“Naturally, I knew how adorable my baby octopus is. What kind of blind fool do you take me for?”
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Floyd is the kind of brother where he loves you and protective of you but he’s still his mischievous self. Rather than being careful or responsible, Floyd is always happy to bring you to every shenanigan and adventure if you ask him nice enough. This made for some unforgettable memories (for better or for worse)
You learn so much from the spontaneous eel. For example, you learned that sharks can swim really fast when angry, but your big bro Floyd is faster, even when carrying you in his arms.
As teasing as he can be, you admired how strong and cool Floyd was, and was excited to hear stories about his life on land with Jade, especially about the stories of his new friends. You even have a notebook with pictures of specific sea creatures to keep track of the friends he made, because if your brother doesn’t bother with names, why should you? (terrible influence, he is)
Imagine your excitement when you had the chance to visit Floyd during one of his basketball games. You practiced all week walking with feet just so you could run like Floyd does across the court.
Unfortunately, the tall merman was in his less-cheerful moods during this particular game. Boredom quickly struck him mid-way into the game which caused confusion for the opposing team and great distress amongst the NRC Basketball players. Jamil was quick to call for a timeout as soon as he could as the team whispered and panicked over this predicament.
But the timeout gave you a perfect chance get your brother’s attention, waving your hands as you called out to the tall merman as Jade stood by you with a genuine smile. Your other brother was quite aware of the bond his two siblings have so he took the liberty of escorting you as you were sure to get lost on Sage’s Island.
“Floyd! Over here!” You yelled out in joy, wearing a jersey similar to your brother to show off your clear bias. But that wasn’t the only similarity you shared with the teal-haired menace.
Shimmering under the gymnasium’s lights, your earring clipped onto your right ear caught Floyd’s eyes immediately.
The day Floyd and Jade made their earrings from the scales of the sturgeon they fought, you cried when there wasn’t enough to make one for you to wear as well. You pouted and glared every time Floyd flaunted his accessory to you, but when you stopped reacting, he assumed that you'd gotten over it.
But holding onto your ear, the sturgeon scales of your earring was as dazzling as your proud grin.
“Look, Floyd! We all match!” Your smile rejuvenated Floyd’s mood, making the once-moody eel grin back. When did you get that? And how did you get it? Floyd’s mind was flooded with curious questions so he soon turned to his teammates with a sadistic smile.
“I’m gonna crush the competition today. I wanna wrap this up quick, so let’s get serious~”
And Floyd started to have fun again, at the expense of the poor visiting team. How unfortunate for them, but Floyd needed to finish the game so he could hang out with his precious family after all.
“Little eel, come with me. Your big bro is gonna show you something fun!”
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As seen with his approach with Floyd, Jade is type to spoil his siblings. No matter how tall you get or how old you are, you are Jade’s precious little one, and Jade loves nothing more than to watch his cherished family have fun, regardless if nobody else is having fun in the process.
Jade is the cool older brother, someone who is calm and dependable. You always admired the way he could charm the masses with his suave words and gestures. In the sea or on land, no one is better than your brother (tied with Floyd)
No matter what anyone says, Jade is the kindest eel in the entire world. To the dismay of others, you started picking up little habits and hobbies of your idol. Your classmates were baffled by the odd terrarium filled with odd marine fungi and rocks you stole from the shores of the beach.
When the NRC’s annual Halloween event opened to the public, you were all too excited to see your brothers, especially Jade, to show off your small terrarium bowl. Once you and your family made it to the last day of the Halloween festival, you rushed to the room that your brothers were managing to greet them.
Unfortunately, you were unaware of the concerning issue of Magicam monsters the students were facing.
These rambunctious visitors, who cared little for anything, accidentally knocked you to the ground with your terrarium along with it. The glass bowl was broken into pieces, your hardwork spilling onto the once clean floor. The Magicam monsters offered nothing more than an insincere apology before immediately walking away, adding it wasn’t their fault they didn’t notice you.
Jade was passing by as he immediately recognized you at first glance. He was quick to scoop you up into his arms, a rare look of distress on his face as he tried to dry your teary face. “Little one, what’s the matter?”
You sniffled as you tried to explain what transpired, how you excitedly rushed to find him to show him your terrarium you worked hard on, which was currently a mess on the alchemy room floor.
Oh my, the merman thought. This won’t do. As an older brother, Jade felt a responsibility to teach you a very important lesson. One’s deeds does not go unrepaid in turn
Floyd and Azul had to shush you as you, a true Leech, giggled watching the looks of fear painted on the poor unfortunate souls as they ran for their lives out from the alchemy room, away from Jade’s especially frightening surprise appearance.
All for the fun of Halloween, of course. Not because they dared to do wrong to Jade’s dear little eel.
“You would like to play with me today? Of course, I cannot think of a better way to spend the day.”
BONUS Floyd and Jade’s Birthday Special
“Happy birthday, big brothers!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, throwing handfuls of confetti as high as you could to cover the pillars you call your siblings. The twins chuckled over your silliness, respectively giving their thanks.
“Thanks, kiddo!”
“Thank you, little one”
Smiling, you brought out another surprise. In your hidden hands, you held two small boxes, wrapped in ribbons matching the colors of your brothers’ dorm.
“Open them, quick!” Handing it over, your brothers obeyed your wishes. Afterall, you were the few in the world that the eels would willingly listen to.
Cradled carefully in cushioned cloth, a small keychain sat comfortably in the box. One for each brother, there was a glass sculpture of a moray eel attached to the keychain, one with a basketball by its side and the other with a cute mushroom.
Floyd and Jade stood in silence as they admired the gift, clearly made with them in mind. For the final surprise, you took out your phone where a matching keychain dangled from its case. However, your moray eel sculpture was decorated with two hearts, representing your brothers, next to it.
“I made it near the lava flows on the sea floors” you smiled brightly, hoping your brothers liked them. It was hard enough to try glass blowing but you had to find glass materials that work well underwater. But it was worth it. “I wanted to give you something to remind you of home. Where I’ll always be waiting for you two”
Needless to say, Floyd and Jade were satisfied with your gift. Even after you went home, Floyd was bragging about how adorable you were as he showed it off to everybody while Jade was suddenly pulling out his phone more than usual throughout the day, just to see your present every single time.
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gayboydetectivez · 4 months ago
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Tw smoking
Dbda drabble
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"Job officially jobbed, good work, guys!" Charles smiled at his companions, coat still covered in green slime from the evil plant they had just killed.
It hadn't been a difficult case, comparatively, but hunting through the forest for a cursed bush and then losing the bottle of weed killer had made it significantly more difficult than intended.
"We should head back to the office." Edwin replied, still scratching notes into his book as he led the walk back to the bus stop.
After a few minutes crystal began digging in her bag, retrieving a small paper box and a lighter. Pulling one of the thin sticks from the box, putting it to her lips, she ignited the end, inhaling deeply.
"You smoke?" Charles asked incredulously.
"Is that uncommon now?" Edwin chimed in, a confused look on his face.
"It's frowned upon, but plenty of people still do it." Crystal answered, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. In her months with the agency, she had grown accustomed to Edwin's cultural questions, no longer being overly sarcastic in response to his genuine confusion over time period differences.
Edwin hummed thoughtfully, watching the grey plumes curl in the air before being swept away by the wind.
"Did you ever smoke, Charles?" He asked after a moment.
"Occasionally. When the lads had a carton or I was at a party." Charles answered simply, leaving out the risk coming home smelling of cigs posed to 16yr old him and his fathers impact on his lack of typical teen rebellion. "You?" He asked, mainly to be polite. Charles knew Edwin had a sheltered childhood, as most childhoods seemed to be during his era, but he had grown fond of their usual back and forth routine.
"Me? Oh yes, quite frequently." He answered, earning duel shocked expressions from his companions.
"You smoke?" Crystal asked, disbelief coloring her voice.
"Well it has been over a century..." He corrected snarkily, "but yes. It was common place when I was alive for boys as young as 10 to get their first cigarette case and begin smoking. It was a right of passage of sorts, i suppose." He shrugged.
"Next you're gonna tell us you were shooting whiskey and doing lines of coke." Crystal retorted, earning a chuckle from Charles, who despite being well aware of his best mate's rebellious nature, simply couldn't imagine him getting drunk and doing drugs like some rockstar Charles had on his bedroom wall as a child.
"'A gentleman does not shoot whiskey, he sips it'" Edwin quoted, allowing Charles for a moment to envision what Edwins father had sounded like, "and cocaine was a very powerful and frequently prescribed medicine. It was a main ingredient in cough syrup." He informed his stunned counterparts.
Charles tried to press back the images flashing in his mind of Edwin drunk, cheeks pink, smoke swirling around him as a cigarette balanced carelessly between his fingers.
"Can ghosts smoke?" Crystal asked unprompted. "Like have you tried?"
"I can't say I have," he said, "though there were moments in Hell where I thought I could have killed for a cigarette and a drink." He added, laughing the way he usually did when speaking of Hell. Casual but with a faint tightness to it, not quite forced but not quite natural either.
Crystal dug the cardboard pack out from her bag again, offering one to Edwin. He gave his usual resigned sigh and took one, rolling the white stick between his long fingers, inspecting it, before bringing it to his mouth. Charles breath caught in his throat. Crystal flicked the lighter and Edwin leaned in to inhale through the flame. The smoke plumed around his face as his eyes fluttered shut in memory.
He exhaled a small cloud and looked at the expectant faces around him. "I can't exactly taste it, but it is rather pleasant." He answered their unasked question, taking another drag. If Charles could blush, he would be the same color as his shirt. "My apologies, would you like to try?" Edwin asked, holding the lit cigarette out to Charles who had spent the majority of this time staring at him in stunned awe.
Charles looked from the offending item to his partners expectant face and back again before sliding the cigarette from Edwin's thin pianists fingers and placing it in his own mouth. He tried not to think too hard about the fact it had also been in Edwin's mouth just moments ago. He inhaled, smoke filling his chest, the usual subtle burn missing as it flowed down his windpipe and back out again. Edwin had been right, he could almost taste it. The usual flavor dulled by death, instead a faint earthy flavor filled his senses. It was familiar enough to recognize as tobacco but lacked the overpowering taste.
Blowing out the smoke, he smiled at Edwin's expectant face. "That's brills." He said, returning the cigarette to his partner.
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schoenpepper · 3 months ago
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Isekai'd Chronicles 7
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Intro: Diasomnia in an isekai AU.
Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, ankle injury in Silver's part, Malleus being a cutie, also Silver's a fae
A/N: Diasomnia isn't my favorite dorm in the whole entire world, that's for sure. I tried though, but the ooc might be worse than usual. Enjoy.
Masterlist
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You've made up with your friends, hurray! In exchange for some space, you fill out your calendar to hang out with them because they don't seem to want to do it as a group. Tonight, you've decided to take a stroll into the woods near the human dormitory to clear your mind. Things have just been far too hectic lately, and you don't really understand why the capture targets seem a bit overly fond of you, if not possessive. There seem to be fireflies in the distance, and you chase after it subconsciously, your feet leading you deeper into the forest. The lights coalesce into an intimidating figure with horns and one of the most beautiful faces you've ever seen. Malleus Draconia, right, the fae prince likes to walk around randomly in the middle of the night.
For all you've done to try and avoid the male leads, you sure haven't done a very good job.
He greets you and calls you 'Child of Man'. When you take a step back, you see a flash of hurt on his face, and it makes you take a few more steps forward to give him a rather shaky greeting back. You've promised yourself not to get closer to the love interests more than you already have, but he's rather pitiful like this, isn't he? You lend him an ear and talk quietly in the woods with him, and you think maybe it's time to give up your 'avoid the male leads to avoid the bad endings' thing, since it very clearly does not work. Malleus is rather eloquent, so conversation comes easily even though he starts talking about gargoyles. You don't mind gargoyles, and you've gotten really good at dealing with infodumps because of Jade, so you let him rant his endless amount of gargoyle knowledge while occasionally chipping in your own thoughts. And before you know it, it's somehow become a nightly thing, and he's teleporting you both to all sorts of random places so he can talk about ancient architecture. You find his infodumping to be rather relaxing, actually, as are your nightly walks, so you're not too against it. You even manage to rant to him about your own hyperfixations.
He's a very good listener and a very good friend, and at this point, you don't care about that stupid otome game anymore. No, seriously, it's almost been a full year and those main characters that are supposed to be flirting left and right aren't anywhere in sight.
One more male lead that's not going to kill you, yay! Though at this point, there's only one love interest left. Maybe, if you're real lucky, you won't meet him.
"Child of Man?"
You're a little nervous when you hand over the ticket for the culture festival. Sure he probably has a seat in the VIP section but, you hoped the ones you have are good enough for him. "Uh, Tsunotarou, you can use this to get a seat in that play I'm on. I know they're not the best seats in the house, but they're the show's family tickets, and I'd really rather not have my family see me like that." He looks expressionlessly at the ticket in his hands.
"I don't think any of my friends are too interested in the tickets, and you said you're upset you're never invited so—" You cut off your rambling with a defeated sigh. Maybe you're not as close to him as you'd thought.
"Thank you, Child of Man." At least, until he gives you the sweetest smile you've ever seen as he clutches the ticket close to his heart. "For inviting me."
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Of course you're not lucky. If you were lucky, you wouldn't have gotten reincarnated into this game. You walk into the garden to try to find that pesky ingredient you were missing for Crewel's class, and you stumble right onto the last target. Literally.
You trip over Silver Vanrouge and fall very ungracefully to the ground, wincing in pain before the pretty man holds out a hand to you. You take his offer and stand up, and congratulate yourself for successfully managing to sprain an ankle. He's apologizing and offering to carry you to the infirmary which you initially decline. If any of your very clingy friends see you in the arms of Malleus' knight, they'll have very different reactions, but you just know none of them will be good! Still, you don't have much of a choice when you try to walk to prove to him that you can, and fall right back to the ground.
He's kind enough to lend you his shoulder once you explain about your friends, and you hop over to the infirmary while cracking stupid jokes that makes a pretty smile crop up on his pretty face. Why is this school just so chock full of pretty boys? He spends the better part of a week helping you because he insists that the injury is his fault. Though you try to tell him that he was just sleeping and had nothing to do with your own stupidity, he claps back with a 'I shouldn't have been sleeping in the gardens anyway', and you just can't argue with that. He's really good with a knife as he cuts you up some fruit that he bought for you, and you do your homework with him as company. Your first year friends gave you very unamused looks when you tried to ask them to help keep your senpais out of your room for fear of what they'd do when they found out you were injured, but they do it begrudgingly once you promise to make some treats for them once your ankle got all better. Even as your injury's all healed up, Silver doesn't seem too keen on leaving you be, and eventually, he's another friend to you.
Aren't you happy? Now all the capture targets are very unlikely to kill you.
The air is quiet, which isn't too unusual when you're with Silver. What is unusual, is the low, slightly sad mood he seems to be in. He looks at you when he asks a question. "Do you think that...humans and fae can be together?"
You shrug. This world's a romance video game after all, who are you to judge people's racial preferences?
"I think it doesn't matter who you want to be with. Especially when your lifespans are uneven. You already have such a short amount of time to be together, so you might as well make the most of it." You comment offhandedly. He doesn't respond, and when you look in his direction, he has an expression of shock and realization on his face.
"Right. What matters should be that they make the most of it..." He repeats in a soft whisper. "Love is a little less complicated than I thought it would be." 
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lighteyed · 1 year ago
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safe / steve harrington
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summary: nowadays parties kind of freak steve out, but you’ll make him feel safe again, don’t worry.
word count: 1.6k
steve doesn’t really party anymore.
occasionally he’ll have a few drinks, but there was a certain time when he was considered the party king of hawkins and nowadays he feels completely and utterly disconnected from that era of his life, having grown older and (sort of, maybe?) wiser, concerned more with his job, you, his girlfriend, robin, his best friend, and the hoard of children he’d unwittingly taken to looking out for somewhere along the way. he didn’t really have a reason to party anymore, and when you went out, still a senior in high school, a year younger than him, he would reject your invitations to come. he’d pick you up after, make sure you were home in bed safe, stay the night if you wanted him to, but you never got too drunk regardless. a few drinks and that was your limit. steve doesn’t mind. he’s just not a partier anymore, he tells you, insists on it, really, that he’d rather stay home, he’s grown out of that lifestyle, he’s moved on.
(but mostly he stopped partying after nancy wheeler told him their whole relationship was bullshit when she was shitfaced at tina’s halloween bash and steve hasn’t really had the courage to drink or be around people who are drinking ever since. especially you.)
you’re about to graduate, though, and steve knows he can’t miss it, miss one of the biggest moments in your life, where all you want is him there having fun alongside you, the person you care about most in the world. he’d be a shitty boyfriend if he did that, and steve harrington was a lot of things, gorgeous and funny and loyal, to name a few off the top of your head, but he was not a shitty boyfriend. not to you, not ever. he would sacrifice himself for your happiness ten times over if it meant you’d smile at him. if he had to brave the party scene again, he would. even though it kind of terrified him.
yeah, seeing you this drunk definitely terrified him.
he’s been nursing the same drink, only his second, and he was barely halfway done with it, for almost forty minutes now, lingering in the background of the room, watching everyone else have a lot more fun than him. he’s still enjoying himself in spite of that. he likes watching you shine, and boy do you. he forgets that being out of high school a year now means he rarely has a chance to see you in your element, popular, everyone adoring you, wanting you in their polaroids, congratulating you on the awards you’d gotten during the graduation ceremony, loving all the same things steve loves about you (not as much, he asserts to himself, never as much).
he sees you down your fourth jell-o shot and shakes his head with immense fondness. you’re going harder than usual, maybe because he’s there with you and you feel safer and more carefree in his company. you look over at him, beam and wave, and he does it right back, taking a small sip of whatever is in his hand (he’s not 100%, but who really is at a high school party?).
“stevie!” you wrap your arms around him, your eyes big, your voice a little silly from all the drinks you’ve had. even in your drunken haze you still think he’s hung the moon. “have another drink, baby, we’re walking home tonight,” you gesture for someone to come bring you another one for him but he gently pushes your hand back down.
“don’t worry about me, it’s your night, i want you to have fun,” he kisses the top of your head. you smell vaguely like your jell-o shots, that artificial strawberry scent like stomach medicine, but not in a bad way. it’s sweet.
“i want you to have fun with me,” you say, a little pushy, a lot drunk. he shakes his head again, still smiling. you mean well.
“i’m having fun, i promise, just not used to this anymore.” he squeezes your side playfully. “maybe chill on the drinks for a minute though, yeah? i don’t want you to get sick.” he plants another kiss on you, this time firmly on your lips, smiling against you when you gasp at the song that’s come on.
“aw come on steve dance with me,” but you accidentally tug on his hand holding the drink and he would’ve danced with you he swears he would’ve if you hadn’t gotten his drink doused all over the front of your shirt. “fuck,” you mumble, suddenly that weird mix of sober and drunk, your head fuzzy staring at the stain and steve’s head fuzzy with bad memories that make his breath bitch and his heart constrict.
“i’m sorry, babe, shit, come on, i’ll get you cleaned up,” he tries to steady his breathing as he walks you, stumbling and blurry-eyes, to the bathroom, don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic, but he hears it in his head. he hears all of it.
it’s bullshit it’s all bullshit you’re bullshit like we’re in love-
he shuts the door behind the both of you and you turn the sink on, and the flashbacks pulse behind his eyelids, and he keeps reminding himself to breathe. “i don’t know if it’ll come out, i’m sorry,” he spins you toward him, slow so you don’t get dizzy, and he dabs at the liquid squelching in your shirt, trying to soak some of it up. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he mutters, almost feverish, staring at you, at the stain, at the mess he’s made, the mess he always makes, the mess he can’t stop making-
“what’re you sorry for?” you say softly, still slurred, and when he meets your gaze he doesn’t see the emptiness he’s imagining, the coldness he remembers from the night so similar, he sees daylight. he sees love. “i pulled you too hard, my fault, ruined your drink,” you pull at your wet shirt and your movements are sloppy.
“not your fault, don’t worry,” he pushes your hair back from your forehead, sweaty from the heat of the party. mascara is smudged under your eyes. dingy yellow bathroom lighting doesn’t do anyone any favors but you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. smudged and sweaty and so pretty. “i don’t wanna ruin your night.” his hand comes to rest on the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.
“you could never,” you balk at the insinuation. you take his face in your hands. he’s worried, searching your face for answers, for reassurance. “so pretty,” you smush his cheeks together. his face warms. “pretty steve.”
“alright, alright,” he laughs, uncharacteristically shy, swatting your hands away.
“i gotta tell you something. it’s really important.” you stare directly into his eyes. they’re so deep and brown you wanna kiss him before you tell him anything. but your brain wants you to say it. your brain insists you say it first. “it’s a secret, okay? so don’t tell anyone.”
the panicky feeling creeps in again, even though you’ve been sweet on him all night. his palms start to sweat. he nods. “a secret, huh? how secret we talking?” he plays with a strand of your hair, an attempt to appear nonchalant.
“biggest secret of my life,” you inform him, a look of seriousness on your face so intense he almost laughs again, and he would if he weren’t so nervous. the concentrated expression didn’t match the inebriated, slightly delirious voice coming out of your mouth, not for a second.
“okay, lay it on me,” he takes a deep breath. he hears the party continuing to rage on outside the little bubble he’s in. at least if it’s bad his escape will be quick and no one will notice.
you tilt his chin up toward you because he’s not making eye contact and you need him to see you when you say this. your mind is buzzing with it. it’s all you can think about. you lean forward and whisper, “i’m in love with steve harrington,” and then you lean back and laugh, giddy with the revelation. “did you know that? super in love. for real.” you lean in again. “don’t tell steve. if he’s not in love with me back i’ll be real embarrassed.”
he’s never felt such pure relief, flooding his entire being, lighter than he’s ever felt, happier than he knew he could be. “i won’t tell him, gorgeous, but you should know,” he leans in and whispers, playing along, smiling so broadly he can’t hide it for a second, “steve is in love with you, too, i heard it from him myself, so don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing, okay?” he pets your hair, his touches light and loving. he hugs you like that, his cheek atop your head. you’ve been dating awhile, almost a year, but you’d both been so hesitant to say it first, past experiences hindering either of you from being able to fully admit it to each other, not wanting to be hurt again, not wanting to be vulnerable. but here you were. it’s not like nancy. you believe in him and your love for each other and things are different now, things are safe.
“you’ll take me home now? so i can tell him?” it’s such a sweet gesture, he gets overwhelmed, his nose twitching with that feeling that he might cry. he feels lucky to be loved, and lucky to love you. lucky to maybe not loathe parties so much anymore.
“‘course, baby, c’mon.” he kisses your forehead, the tip of your nose, your lips. they’re soft and sticky and perfect.
he takes you by the hand and leads you out of the house after saying goodbye to your friends; he keeps your fingers interlocked the whole walk back to your house. when you’re cleaned up and in bed, a glass of water on your nightstand for when you wake up, you turn to him, reaching out.
“you’ll stay right?” he remembers a time where he never got asked to stay, never got to be in love properly. it feels far away now. he’s flushed with love from you now. he can put the past behind him.
he climbs in next to you, fresh from the bathroom. “can’t leave until i get to tell you i love you when you’re sober, now can i?” and your fogged up brain supposes he can’t.
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