#house-strong 1k celebration

[cherryredstars]

1K Prompts

Pairing: Actor!Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Talks of Making a Sex Tape, Talks of Impregnation

Summary: Every movie star needs a costar. 

Word Count: 910 (Not Edited)

It was different, a good different. 

Miguel doesn’t remember the last time someone had no idea who he was. Sure, maybe some people didn’t know him by name, but at least they recognized him from one of his roles. Even then, he was met with a ‘you look familiar…’ before it clicked. But not you. You don’t even have that fake calmness when fans pretend to be chill about meeting celebrities. You genuinely looked like you had no idea who he was. He thinks that's the exact reason he became so attached to you. 

He didn’t have to pretend with you, didn’t need to put up that celebrity persona for you. You enjoyed him, not the man who played make believe roles. You weren’t disappointed when he didn’t act like one of his movie characters. In fact, to this day, you still get the movies and characters mixed up. You liked him and he couldn’t have been more grateful. 

He did feel bad when your relationship got exposed. He was stressed, scared all the gossip and constant invasion of privacy would get to you, that it would end everything between the two of you. But you were strong, resilient. You came to him with your concerns, not the press or the tabloids. It meant a lot that you trusted him instantly, pushing aside the horrible rumors because you knew who the real Miguel was. He has no idea how he got so lucky. Doesn’t know how he was able to find someone so good and pure in the mist of glitz and glam.

And he makes sure you know how grateful he is. He offers to take care of you, having the money to make your dreams come true. God forbid you make a joke about him buying you something crazy, you’ve made that mistake before. You only ask for simple things, nothing too fancy or screaming celebrity status. You’re so modest, getting upset when he buys you something so ridiculously expensive. You are constantly scolding him that there are better things to be spending money on than an overpriced pair of shoes that don’t even look like it's worth half of its retail price. That there are so many other people he could be spending his money on, like good charities or people who are actually in desperate need of it. He makes it his monthly gift to donate a couple thousand dollars to your organization of choice. 

Since he can’t show his love through gifts, he does it through actions most of the time. He makes you a nice dinner even when he’s tired from a day of shooting. He offers to help you do things around the house. Drags you out of bed early in the morning for a coffee date before he has to go on set. Brings you to his latest movie set and shows you around if it's a calm day, his acting getting a hundred times better knowing his cute little girlfriend is in his chair watching him work. His favorite thing to do is to show his love by keeping you pinned to the bed as he ruts into you. 

He loves watching you wither on the bed, clutching onto him for dear life. You look better than any model or actress as you stare up at him, mewling so nicely for him. He coos into your ear, telling you how pretty you look taking his cock. He’s constantly pressing into that gummy spot inside of you, causing your back to arch and to look up at him with glassy eyes. You look like a goddess, a fucking pornstar as your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“Fuck, hermosa. Feels so good,” he mumbles into your ear, nipping at it as he groans. “Look so fucking good, too.”

You whimper under him, only capable of responding in sounds of pleasure. Reducing you to this state, where nothing but pleasure and lust consumes your body, is better than any award he could get. He can feel your walls fluttering around him, his release quickly approaching. 

“Should make our own movie. Make you my good little actress,” He grunts as he puts the last of his energy into his thrusts. Your walls clench so damn tight around him at the idea, making him hiss out. “Yeah, you like that? Want me to record you being a good little bunny for me? Huh, amor?”

He props his hand in between the two of you, flicking your clit to elicit a response. You can only nod, babbling nonsense as your walls pulse wildly. With a few more pumps, your walls hold Miguel in a vice grip as you come. You let out gasping breaths, desperately reaching for Miguel. He’s quick to hold your hands, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he coos down at you. He bullies his cock into you as much as he can with your walls spasming around him, giving a few more sloppy snaps of his hips before he stills. 

He lets out a desperate moan as he empties into you, panting into your ear. Both of your bodies are flushed and sweaty, but buzzing with love. Miguel holds you close, not having the energy to pull out. He mumbles sweet nothings into your ear, kissing any skin he can reach. 

Hopefully, the next tabloid rumors will be whether or not he’s fucked a baby into you. 

Part 2

[hoony2k]

THE LOOKING GLASS

Synopsis: You've never had the best luck with love or in life, maybe that's why you're being comforted by your boyfriend's brother who happens to look identical to him.

Pairing: sunghoon x reader

Genre: a mix of fluff and angst, sunghoon is a twin, right person wrong time trope,

Warnings: mentions of being cheated on (reader)

Word Count: 1k

Note: hii another sunghoon post! I enjoyed writing this so much..why'd i eat with the title need to pat myself on the back

library

It's strange seeing your lover but not truly seeing them. Next to you under the dim porch light , sits Sunghoon with a cold glass of water.

The glass is frosty with condensation, droplets trickle down the boy's fingertips and your throat is flooded with an onset of emotions. His wrist must hurt from being in a rigid position for so long but there is no courage inside you that could take the glass from him.

It should be Sungjin next to you, but it's not- it's his identical twin brother. Park Sunghoon. The shadow. The ghost. The one no one talks about in family dinners, and often forget to message Happy Birthday!

Sunghoon lingers a comfortable distance, near enough for you to feel his warm yet far enough for you two appear as friends. He's always been respectful towards you, never dared to bring you discomfort, subtly looked out for you when he knew his brother was ignorant to your moods. Though, his kind actions never missed your radar.

Common sense urges you to thank him for the water, take the glass from him and down it in one go to prevent another pitiful crying session. But, your eyes are already misty. Sunghoon seem to doesn't mind the wait. You sniffle.

For eons the silence between your bodies stretches on. The house is vibrant with life and colour, muffled cheers and laughter resonate periodically. The wooden floor you took salvation in vibrates with bass.

Inside everyone in the Park family is celebrating Sungjin's new job across the country and you're bleeding out on the porch. Not alone in misery though, as it seems.

You almost don't recognise yourself when you speak, voice scratchy.

"I wish I never found out".

"Don't say that", Sunghoon whispers harshly. It almost floats away in the breeze but you catch it. You always caught his low murmurs and comments whispered under his breath.

Head heavy with shame you bow to nothing in particular. The deities must be laughing at you. How stupid were you really?

There's a shuffle as Sunghoon comes closer, his dry hand rests on your knee, warm, anchoring. the flame in your heart flickers dangerously.

From your peripheral, you eye him up and down.

His features look exactly like Sungjin's. Soft sloped nose sealed with a beauty mark near the ends, strong prominent eye brows and pouty plush lips. Though Sungjin has shorter hair that doesn't curl behind his ears, bleached so many times in his youth the ends are dry. Sunghoon doesn't have a mole on his left ear, a slight crooked canine or a rumble in his voice.

But Sungjin doesn't look at you like this. Hasn't looked at you like this- in years.

Brown eyed Sunghoon looks at you as if you're the most wonderful person he's ever seen. What swims in his pupils is fondness and a hint of worry, of protectiveness.

Sungjin looked at you as if he wished you were someone else. Almost as if he was trying his hardest to envision the doe eyed girl-who lived across the country-you caught him with.

And maybe you're a hypocrite for crying over him and whining about how he wronged you. Because your mind reels you back to occasions where you met his family, in those small moments where you disappeared in the background as Sungjin took the stage, or when Sungjin wasn't breathing down your neck for wearing a sleeveless dress, you caught yourself staring at Sunghoon.

Alone and silently wandering near the kids table. In those moments, it was only you and Sunghoon, trapped in a second together. A sweet secret moment where you truly saw him. Even if the adults didn't. Though, those moments lasted short, filled with Sunghoon rapidly asking you questions and your responding as quick, throwing in a joke or two, aware that something in the interaction would eventually become a secret inside joke. A fond jest he'd refer to during the next reunion, perhaps when he'd find you in the kitchen or when he'd raise his eyebrows at you from across the room. The pair of you trapped in time as all around you blurred past.

The feeling was mutual, it was pure, it was fondness, it was nothing serious.

"I wish I fell for you instead", your body moves on autopilot and you can't believe what you had just said. Shocked at the self discovery, a battle begins within you. Your face is warm with shame and guilt for roping him in your emotions, but you're relieved at the birth of the sentence. It was like finally confronting your reflection. Your heart felt lighter but your face heat up with shame.

Saying it out loud unsheathed the hidden truth, forced you to come in terms with the bitter reality. Sungjin stopped loving you when he was accepted as an intern in another city, maybe along the quiet days and lonely nights, you forgot how to love. Confused love for a routine, to be the polite, pretty partner wrapped around his arm.

Sunghoon sucks in a deep breath. His blown out pupils hide under his lids, lips pulled in a taunt line. Then he goes limp.

He slouches over his long legs clad in a black trouser, elbows resting on his knees.

Sunghoon's head hangs low, dark hair covering his face yet through the gaps of locks you see his eyes and his long yearning desires. His fingers, red from the cold sensation are numb, intentionally tipping the glass until water splatters on the chipped off wooden stairs. He lets the angle of his hand pour water until the amount doesn't reach the tip. Until it stops and the liquid can only slosh in the container.

Half full, half empty.

You glance at the small darkening spot, the wood dutifully soaking it all in. Then, stare at Sunghoon. Lip caught between his teeth, his eyes stare blankly at the ground but you drown in the abyss of despair and temptation inside them.

"I wish you fell for me too".

thank you for reading! Please do not edit/translate/copy.

[ilreleonewikiart]

I finally reached 1k followers on IG yayyy!!!✨

I wanted to celebrate this great milestone earlier but I was busy with commissions, so I decided to make this illustration now, before restarting my normal posting schedule.

This illustration was one of the options for my dtiys birthday challenge, so I though it would be fun drawing it now.

This is a family portait based on the events of my AU fic on AO3.

For the ones who don't know it, Harwin Strong and House Strong general have an important role on my story, so I thought they deserve at least a portrait.

I decided to set it on 143 AC, so at the end of my fic so the kids would be more grown up.

Because at this point I didn't had the chance to write more about them as a family, I decided to give you some description of these ocs. ☝️✨

Harwin Strong: in this au, Harwin didn't died, faught for the Black and for some reason he had to marry 3 women, after the events of 130AC (read my fic to know why). He married his first two wives for duty, after his younger sisters choosed them for him, while he married . Because his first two wives all died shortly after marrying him in tragic ways people started to whisper that the tile of Lady of Harrenhall was cursed.

Cordelia Bracken: she's Harwin's third wife and the one she loved the most. She's the only daughter of the former Lord Bracken and his younger brother is the present Lord Bracken. Before Harwin, she was married to another Lord who mistreated her, that eneded up dying 2 years after. She meets Harwin in 132 AC, when they both are in full widowhood and they fell in love with eachother at first sight. Because of her family's situation and the many rumors surrounding her capacity of conciving she was considered a bad party for Harwin by his two sisters, still the two will get married at the end of the same year. Just nine months after their wedding she will give birth to twins, Harren and Lyomond. Alys and Cordelia were found of eachother.

Lyonel Strong: he's the first son of Harwin that he had with his first wife, Jayne Mallister. Her mother died a month after his birth after killing herself. Because of this, he and his father will have a difficult relationship. He will ending up marrying Alys Blackwood, Lord Benjicot's daughter.

Lyonora Strong: she's the first and only daughter of Harwin and his second wife, Linthen Piper, who died after she had an acciedent with an horse. She's his daddy princes and the light of his eyes. She and Cordelia will develope a special bond during the years. She will end up marrying Kermit Tully's son, becoming Lady of Rivverun.

Harren and Lyomond : their are the youngest children of Harwin and his current wife, Cordelia. Their twins and they're a menace. They like messing around and destroying everything they encounter. They love to make mischief to the servants, especially to their sister Lyonora. Cordelia likes to call them her little

[tsunami-of-tears]

Breaking Traditions

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 6 (Celebration)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: Not wanting to be ganged up on during the annual snowball fight with his brothers - Rhys introduces some new rules. 

Pairing Masterlist

Wordcount: 1K

Warnings: Reader feeling self-conscious, Cassian and Azriel are so sweet though.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Reader

The first Winter Solstice with your new family was upon you. You never celebrated the holiday in the Spring Court, but were buzzing with anticipation for the annual event after hearing the stories from your mates. They spoke of previous Solstices with so much joy, and you couldn’t wait to start making special memories with them. 

It’s the week before the holiday. Velaris is coated in a blanket of snow, while faelights and festive decorations adorn the houses and shopfronts throughout the city. You walk through the winding streets admiring the sights, bundled in many layers to keep out the winter chill. Music plays out across the market squares along with the sound of laughter as both children and adults play in the snow and go about their preparations. 

You were finishing up some shopping before making your way to the River House for a family dinner. 

Feyre greets you upon your arrival with Nyx standing by her legs. He takes your hand, chattering away about the toys he wants to get for Solstice as Feyre escorts you to the lounge where everyone has already gathered. 

Both Cassian and Azriel smile and sit up as you enter and take your usual seat between them, Nyx lets go of your hand to sit with his Auntie Elain. Azriel’s shadows swirl around you in greeting, the one he keeps with you at all times hurries back to its master to report on your outing.

Cassian leans over to whisper something filthy in your ear – he could use the bond but you both enjoy the possibility of someone else hearing – as Rhys clears his throat. He gives Cassian a pointed stare before turning to address the room. 

“As you all know, my brothers and I compete in an annual snowball fight. With the mating bond now in place between them, it wouldn’t be fair to continue the tradition the way it stands.”

Cassian and Azriel both call out their objections. “We’ve been doing this every year since we were children. We can’t just stop!!” “I think someone is afraid of competition…”

Rhys gives his brothers a feline grin, “I never said anything about stopping. I was merely suggesting a slight change in the rules.” 

“Okay Rhys, can you stop with the dramatics and get to the point?” Cassian mutters. 

Rhys sighs, picking at a strand on his lapel. “I propose that this year we play in teams. Cassian, Azriel and Y/N can be one team, playing for bragging rights against myself, Feyre Darling and Mor.” 

You lock eyes with Feyre and Mor who are too shocked to speak, none of you saw this change of rules coming. Cassian cheers beside you, turning your attention to his wide smile. 

You speak down the bond to both of your mates. ‘You’re both at a disadvantage, I’m not as strong as the others.’ 

Azriel reassures you silently, his hand resting on your thigh. ‘Don’t worry angel, we have a week to prepare.’

“As our family grows we can keep adjusting the teams,” Rhys says, reaching down to ruffle Nyx’s hair, the boy scrunches his nose at his father.

“Wow, Illyrians can change their ways,” Mor smirks. “I’ll pass on the naked birchin bonding though.” 

Your eyes widen. In all their stories, your mates had neglected that part. You can feel their gaze on you. ‘That’s the part we’re most looking forward to.’

————

Cassian and Azriel tried their best to get you ready for the snowball fight but you’d never seen snow before this Winter, and with only a week to practise you were unsurprisingly underprepared. 

You stayed out of most of the action, helping to replenish the snowball stockpiles with the help of the shadows and your mates keeping you shielded from the brunt of the attacks. 

Somehow, you still managed to come out on top. 

The scoring system seemed arbitrary and you weren’t sure how they kept track of the points or declared a winner. You decided you’d have to offer some suggestions before the next Solstice, but you wouldn’t argue the results this time.

Azriel carries you on his shoulders as he and Cassian perform their victory chant, white clouds floating from their mouths in the brisk air. Now that the battle is over, you all make your way inside to escape the frigid temperatures. Mor and Feyre trail behind with a crestfallen Rhys.

A fire roars to life in the hearth as you enter your shared bedroom in the cabin. You raise your hands in an attempt to warm your icy fingers but it’s no use. 

“Come here angel, we have a better remedy for the cold,” Azriel says, helping you remove your sodden clothes before taking off his own. 

Your eyes fall on your naked form in the mirror. Goosebumps cover your skin in between the many silvery scars courtesy of the Human Queens. You had become accustomed to Cassian and Azriel seeing them, but the thought of being so exposed in front of anyone else had your anxiety growing.

You must have been screaming your feelings down the bond, as Cassian is by your side a heartbeat later. He takes your hand in his, which is somehow warm despite the day in the snow. He kisses the back of your palm, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Each one shows how brave you are,” he murmurs. 

A moment later, Azriel is behind you, holding up a robe to cover yourself with and a sad, understanding smile on his face. You put your arms through the holes and Cassian helps to fasten the tie around you. He holds your face gently and leans down to give you a sweet kiss. “We’re both so proud of you,” he whispers against your lips. “You don’t have to do this next part if you don’t want to.” 

“It’s a tradition, I wouldn’t miss it.” 

Cassian kisses you again softly. “Just tell us if you want to leave, okay?” 

“Okay,” you agree, taking the hand of each of your mates in yours. “Let’s get warmed up,” you grin. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

A/N: I had planned to add some steamy birchin smut featuring Feyre x Reader but it’s just not coming together how I’d like it to. I’m feeling so frustrated with myself ☹��� I’ll leave this open to a potential Part 2 but no promises xx

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @coolepowersthings @therealmoonstone

[the-lonelybarricade]

The Longest Night

A short glimpse into the lives of Rhysand and the Inner Circle on the Winter Solistice, 30 years into Rhys’s enslavement Under the Mountain.

For @officialfeysandweek Day 5: Fated

Inspired by one of my text posts from 2022

Word count: 1k

Read on AO3

-

It was the longest night of the year.

And, by any conventional standard, they had assembled the perfect Solstice dinner.

Someone had lovingly donned a woven table runner across the long dining table in the House of Wind. It's golden thread stood out starkly in the dim faelight, cutting across the dark blue fabric like streaks of lightning on a clear night. Cassian recognised the stitchwork. Its seamstress had threaded her needle through his own skin enough times, tenderly patching him up after long, brutal days in the Illyrian training camps.

His heart ached to stare at her handiwork for too long, so he averted his eyes elsewhere—to the pillars of candles, which rose among the countless platters of food, twining cinnamon and cypress with the scent of roasted meat and spices that was not overall unpleasant, just…

Unwelcome.

Not because Cassian minded the candles, or was ever one to turn away a hot meal. Particularly a spread as fine as the one before him, prepared by the best cooks in Velaris, who had dipped into the preserve of spices that were only saved for special occasions such as this.

No one could claim his discontent was the result of meager effort, or that this was a poor rendition of a Solstice Celebration.

He just couldn't summon any cheer as he snagged his fingers around the stem of his wine glass, watching the dark liquid swirl as he twisted it this way and that. It almost felt like mockery to drink wine, of all things.

Not that he would say such a thing to Mor, who was decanting the final drops of her glass into her mouth. They hadn't started dinner yet, but he couldn't blame her. Instead, Cassian wordlessly slid his glass across the table, wedging it between the fingers of Mor's rested hand, where it splayed nostalgically across the table runner.

When Mor offered him a small, grateful nod, he pushed to his feet. He needed something stronger, anyhow.

Who's idea was this, again?

As he began pouring himself a drink from the decanters at the sideboard, Cassian glanced over his shoulder. His friends were all seated at the dining table, staring mutely at their food or at their drinks. None of them were speaking.

It was a nice attempt, he thought, taking a large swallow and grunting at the heat that spread through him. He felt it burn down his chest and settle heavily in his gut—strong stuff, though he hadn't a clue what it was and didn't think anyone was in the mood to tell him.

Rhys would have known.

That thought slid in like a dagger. Lingered, as Cassian's eyes drifted unbidden to the head of the table.

A place had been set there. A knife and fork and freshly polished plate, waiting patiently beside a full glass of red wine.

But the chair was empty. Just as it had remained for the last 30 years. And no one would be coming to claim it.

For a moment, he considered dashing his drink against the prestine fucking floor and diving out the nearest window to escape this facade they were putting on, as if everything were normal. As if there was anything worth celebrating.

The only thing that subdued the impulse was the sight of Mor's trembling lip as she, too, slanted her gaze to the head of the table. And when that tremble split into a soft keening sound, it was Cassian's heart that shattered on the floor, not his drink.

"Sorry," Mor sniffed, darting her eyes to the faelight overhead as she dabbed at tears and smeared khol with the tips of her fingers. "I know we said no crying—"

"We never said that," Cassian said, sliding back into his seat.

Azriel cast an assessing eye over the admittedly generous pour Cassian was bracing in his fist, but Az reserved his commentary.

"I told myself no crying," Mor acquiesced with another sniff. "I thought 30 years would be enough time for it to not feel so… so…"

Raw, Cassian thought. Mor shrugged without concluding the thought and if anyone else mentally filled in the rest, they didn't volunteer it.

At least until they fell back into silence, and Azriel glanced towards the head of the table and rasped, "Empty."

Empty. Like Rhysand's seat, and his throne, and his bedroom.

Like the training ring in the mornings, when there was no buffer between Azriel's bouts of silence and the static in Cassian's head.

Like the bi-monthly meetings with the people of Velaris, where he watched Amren and Mor act as steward to their people's hardships and concerns, which grew more pressing each year.

Like the market squares in the city center, which were once flush with traders and merchants who were now blocked from entering or exiting the city, stranding them all in this crowded, isolated place.

Or like every aching moment over the last 30 years where Cassian glanced over his shoulder after making some smart comment, expecting to see the smug, if not exasperated, smile of his friend. His brother.

And finding nothing. A ghost of a memory, at most.

Yeah, empty was a good word for it.

-

It was the longest night of the year.

Not that Rhys would know. He spent it inside, between Amarantha's legs. Hardly given a moment to consider the time of year, or how his friends might be celebrating without him.

Amarantha told him, of course. She wanted him to know what she was taking away from him, even as he pretended that he didn't care. What interest did a Dark Lord have in petty little festivities?

Rhys didn't usually invite thoughts of his friends into Amarantha's bedroom—for his own sake, he tried to keep those parts of his life firmly compartmentalized.

But he did take a moment to send a plea to the stars he couldn't see: that his friends were okay, that they could forgive him, that they were happy.

And if the stars could offer leniency to a male who hadn't gazed upon them in years, if they had the capacity to perceive his actions with pity instead of scorn, then he saved a risidual wish for himself:

That this eternal Hell would end before he found a way to end it himself.

-

It was the longest night of year.

Unbeknownst to all of them, across Prythian, in the Mortal Realm, a human girl was born.

As if the stars had listened.

[boxboxluckybird]

a ghost in all names-

angst- 1k words

no real person that this was written specifically about so it could fit any driver/rider-

But i thought of Niccolo Antonelli, Yuki Tsunoda, and Logan Sargeant so if you want you can read it with them in mind

The steps had stopped making noise - the vibrations no longer created by the rumble of the engine. Everything was lost to him. All he had slipped from his hands, in all honesty it felt as if the rope that had him tethered to who he deemed as family was never truly tied to him. The rope came with demands, contracts, expectations, and worst of all consequences that were never made known. The numbers faded from his clothes, the team that once supported his whole dream no longer held his name or his number. 

All the laughs were fading, he knew not of what he had done to warrant this. Had he not lived up to expectation, was all he gave up not enough for them— Shall he give his life for them to honor the agreements. To give his love for those to come after him. What more did he need to give to be seen as competition— or just to be seen in any capacity larger than that of a ghost haunting the house which used to be a home. 

The home was no longer there. It was all gone, he had nowhere else to go. It hurt to see those who used to lift him and tell him that one day he would be a shining star in the sky– Part of the constellation that made up the legends of Motorsports. But all he was according to the stories, is a dead star, not even a nebula, hundreds of light years away. Soon to fade from the sky entirely. Becoming uncharted in the books- left to be shelved with the rest of the dying stars. The ones who failed to be. 

In the beginning he felt anger, resentment, unbridled rage from being tossed to the side. Told that if he performed in the lower categories he would excel, he would be put into the higher seat. All the broken promises had added up, first causing small wounds that could be healed with a smile. Yet, he started to put them away in a closet, where only he could see them when he needed to put the doubt and lies somewhere. Day after day, month after month, event after event, and oh god- the amount of dinners and celebrations where the invitation just stopped arriving. His name being crossed off the list, new groups created where his number never saw the add button, conversations about people they missed and his name never being brought up. Everything had gotten so strong that the closet had broken, the river had flooded, the dam was no longer able to be patched with half-assed apologies, or ‘we’ll get them next time’. 

It was told time and time again- nobody was truly gone til their name was no longer in books or leaving the tongues of the living. He was in the pictures, in the memories, but not in the posts- pictures being cropped just slightly so he was the only one cut out of the group shots. 

All that was wanted was to prove himself to those who would never see him as anything more than a seat warmer. And he had, but no one was there to watch him. The achievements he made were not impressive in his back marker team. 

Looking back on the time and energy he spent trying to make them proud or to prove himself, which just ended in arguments when others pushed him aside. He was the used toy left on a bench. Overshined by a brand new toy- leagues younger than him. But the yelling, kicking, screaming, and fighting tooth and nail for a semblance of appreciation, of pride, he stopped. It was not worth it. Never had been in life. 

The edge was so close, where he could feel the pull, feel the urge of running, of falling over. Tittering on the edge was what drove him away. The pull got too strong, the bandages being ripped off. The guilt, doubt, sadness, the internal desperation is what weighed him down to the point of being heavier than the wind. Being blown right off the edge by those who loved him. 

It was where he would stay, never leaving the bottom. Knowing that with him staying more could have what he dreamt of. The pride would go to a more deserving person, someone who never had to prove themself to anyone. An easier piece of meat to chew up and swallow. Not a tough, fatty piece that would just get chewed up, taking all the flavor out- to just end up spit in a napkin, left to rot in the trash. 

The acceptance is worse than denial, because with denial there was still hope. Hope to be seen, hope to be loved. To be remembered. 

It was worse knowing his name would be forgotten, the ink would dry. It would fade to the point of incomprehensible nonsense. All those he loved would have their names rewritten in brighter colors. Their names etched in stone, while his was etched in wet sand, to forever be washed away by the tides coming and going. 

Left to be remembered by those as how to do better, of how to flourish. Used as a warning of what not to do. How not to be loved. That if you’re docile and complacent you’ll be loved. A warning to those coming next, to not go kicking and fighting, that it wouldn’t work if you were not the intended person for anything. 

His team forgot him hurt, it was a surface scratch. The friends he loved, they were a paper cut dosed in sanitizer, stinging when touched. Loved ones being the last to forget him, that was a bleeding wound to his heart. Forever bleeding, but never to be seen. 

If he could, he would etch, carve, memorialize those who come after him, those who have the same tragic unforgiving ending that he has come to know. He would remember their names forever.

[fawnwilde]

Here I Go Again ⋆˙⟡

John Marston's Ending

main story ❤︎

rating: all audiences

word count: 1k

John waited anxiously outside the bedroom door, pacing and running his hands through his hair.

Your agonised wails could be heard clearly, along with the soothing words of Grimshaw, Mary-Beth and Charles. Combined with the rumblings of thunder and the pitter-patter of Summer rain, John’s head was whirring and the world around him was spinning.

He was present when Jack was born, though he spent most of the labour drinking and freaking out. He was certainly doing the latter currently, but Hosea had hid all of the booze the second Charles went to get Grimshaw.

Abigail sat nearby, watching John with a small, somber smile.

She hoped the baby was his, only because he was finally stepping up as a father, and to have a child with the woman who still held his heart after all these years would bring him some closure for all of these years of feeling like his life had turned out wrong.

Beside her, Jack wiggled around his seat, impatient to meet the new baby.

Arthur had carried him out the house earlier when he tried to sneak into the bedroom, wanting to understand why you were crying. It had been hilarious to watch the gang’s ex-enforcer yoinking the small boy and carrying him away like a sack of potatoes.

The labour had lasted a good few hours, and the sun was starting to rise. John was beginning to fear the worst. What if there were complications? What if the baby didn't make it? What if you didn’t make it?

All his thoughts were silenced when he heard it.

A high pitched wailing echoed from the bedroom,muffled by the thick walls, but unmistakably the sound of a baby crying. He could hear Grimshaw talking happily, praising you, and your pained noises changed to relieved and gleeful sobs.

John almost collapses with relief.

More noise erupts around him. Abigail and Jack talk excitedly, calling Arthur back into the room. He sprang back into the room and hugs the three of them, ruffling John’s hair like they were teenagers again. From the open window, he could hear other members of the camp celebrating the birth, loud cheers and whoops echoed into the early morning.

The bedroom door opens, revealing an exhausted Mary-Beth.

“A little girl.” She declares with a tired smile. She nods to the others, before looking directly at John, “Your little girl.”

He was not expecting to feel so much relief.

For months, he wondered if he would feel the same way he felt when Jack was born; terrified and out of place. He was young and stupid and the boy was born out of a one night stand which ruined John’s life. He had grown into being a father, though it took years before he truly felt like one.

Now, he felt joy burst through his body like a firework, tears filling his eyes as he let Mary-Beth drag his sorry ass into the room.

You were reclined on the bed, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to your forehead with sweat, a tired smile on your face. Your eyes were locked on Charles as he stood at the side of your bed, a small, squirming bundle wrapped in his strong arms.

You turned your head and met John’s eyes, sharing in his glee with a bright smile, despite your weariness.

“Ready to meet your daughter?” You asked.

Charles rounded the bed, a soft smile on his face as he looked down at the infant he cradled so gently. He nodded to John, and helped him transfer the babe to her fathers arms.

John thanked him quietly, receiving a pat on the shoulder from the larger man, before he returned to your side, collecting you in his arms and kissing your shoulder.

A sad smile appears on John’s face at the sight. Charles is a good man, and John has no doubts about how well he will treat you. And he knows he would never overstep boundaries regarding the baby and her biological father, while also adoring her just like he does you.

Losing you was the worst mistake he ever made. But as he looked down at his daughter, opening her eyes to reveal the same grey-brown iris’ her father had, he can’t find it in himself to regret anything.

Because if anything had turned out differently, she wouldn’t be here.

Jack comes running into the room, followed by an exasperated and apologetic Abigail. You waved her off tiredly, leaning against Charles with a smile.

John’s son stands at his feet, looking up excitedly at the wriggling bundle in his father’s arms. John smiles,sitting on the edge of the bed to introduce the new siblings.

“Meet your little sister” John says proudly.

Jack beams, reaching over hesitantly and holding the tiny baby's hand. Her fingers wrap around three of his, and Jack's smile widened.

“She’s holding my hand, dad!” He giggles, looking down at his sister like she was the most perfect thing ever created.

Which, John decided, she was.

The babe began fussing, and John gently handed her over to you, picking Jack up to sit next to you as you both admired her. Jack rested his cheek on your arm, as you leant against Charles.

More and more members of the gang filed in. Arthur clapped John on the shoulder, grinning, and Hosea and Lenny began congratulating you and admiring the new, junior gang member. Javier came to your side, kissing your temple and running his thumb over the baby's cheek, whispering awed words in Spanish.

The women cooed at the little girl, and Sean booked it immediately when Karen said she wanted one. Even Dutch stood in the doorway with a small smile, his arm around Molly, concerns about the future abandoned for the movement.

John Marston watched his strange little family fussing over his baby daughter,. Though she was made from a broken relationship with uncertainty surrounding her, she came into a world offering her more love than John thought possible.

And finally, he was truly happy.

AN/ sorry if anyone hoped she got with john at the end but i wasn't feeling it :/ in my head, john will finally move on from reader and be happier from it xx

Hope you enjoyed <3

dividers by toastray.

[upsidedownmvnson]

Hi! Could you do an Eddie x reader who regularly buys from him cus they're friends, but one day her mom drops her off at school and she greens out in the bathroom cus she smoked too much before they left the house? And Eddie's worried

warnings: puke

upsidedownmvnson's 1k followers blurb celebration request a 1k word blurb :) deadline is saturday &lt;3

you were staring at yourself in your bedroom room. and shit did not feel right. your eyes were bloodshot, but luckily it was sunny as hell out and your mom was already in the car, so you could just slip on your sunglasses. but the world felt... simulated? was anything real? were you real?

it was 4/20 and you were astronomically high. you thought a few extra bowls in the morning would be fine, because you'd have all day to wear it off. but it wasn't turning out so great.

the car horn honked twice, startling you. you'd been standing here for over ten minutes. you grabbed your bag, unaware you'd grabbed your party bag and not your school bag. you ran out of the house, and climbed into the car.

your mom was annoyed, and luckily didn't want to talk.

when you got to school, you were immediately over stimulated. and you haven't even walked inside. you saw eddie's van pulling in, and decided to wait for him. he would know what to do.

eddie's smile brightens when he sees you walking towards him. he was harbouring a huge crush on you, and lately you'd been hanging out as well as him dealing to you. and sometimes when you hung out you already weed to share. that was the day he knew there was hope.

"hello beautiful," he says, while stepping out of the van. "whoa, you okay? you look pretty pale."

"i don't feel very good," you said, kind of crashing into him, and letting him help hold you up.

"hey, hey." he holds onto you, slipping your bag off. he hears bottles clink, and sees your eyes as your sunglasses slide off. "are you high?"

"a lot, like a lot."

"i see," he smiles sadly down at you. "well, i'm not sure you're going to make it to class like this, babe. guess we'll just have to skip," he says, laughing. he doesn't seem to understand that you're having the bad kind of high. your stomach swirls when his laugh shakes you.

"i'm gunna be sick," you say, pushing him off you.

"hey, wait!"

but you'd already run away, and you were faster than him. he threw your bag in the van and locked the door before bolting after you as fast as he could. he felt like a jerk, not taking your concerns seriously. he kicked himself, and just wanted to catch you.

you ran into the school, and pushed your way through the crowd to get to the bathroom. you burst into the first one you saw, and were throwing up over the toilet immediately. you heard a couple of girls squeal, followed by the door opening.

"sweetheart?" eddie says from the doorway. he hears you puke and cringes. "hello? is anyone else in there?"

he shuffles one step in. and then another. and then he blocks the door with the garbage can, making it hard for anyone to come in. he checks the other stalls, just incase.

eddie steps into the stall your in, and winces. you're laying on the floor, puke on your shirt and in the toilet. gross. he flushes it down and helps pick you up. while eddie waits for the bell to ring, he slips his hoodie off, and then your shirt. and slips the hoodie over your head, trying not to look at your boobs. he tried really hard.

"i'm sick," you mumble.

"oh yes, very sick." he boops your nose. he does feel bad for you, but he knows you're just too high, and that you're going to be totally fine. the bell rings and you groan, the noise making you feel sick again. "but it's okay, you're gunna be just fine. i'm right here."

you moan into his chest. and he holds a strong arm around you while he guides you out of the bathroom, and out of the school. and he proudly thinks he may have done it without getting caught.

he helps you into the passenger seat of the van, and the bottles clink at your feet. eddie wonders if you had anything to drink this morning also. he gets into the van and brings her to life. the radio blasting way too loud as soon as it's on. he turns it down.

"do you want to go home or my house?"

"you," is all you say, and he smiles. he knows you're sick but you want him around and that's enough to make him giddy.

you fall asleep before eddie pulls out of the parking lot. he drives slowly, and calmly, avoiding all the potholes and speed bumps he can. he knows the cure is falling asleep watching nat geo, and if he can get you snuggled up on the couch, you'd feel better in an hour or two. and then he'd feed you and you'd be cured.

and that's what he does when he gets there, helps you walk into the trailer, and tries to get you to lie down. but you refuse, maybe it difficult.

"you first," you say, pointing.

"no, silly, the couch is for you. i'll sit over here," he says, but you're still pouting.

"you're not gunna sit with me?" you ask, and he swears to god that his heart just fell into his stomach. he has butterflies in his stomach from the way you're looking at him, and he doesn't try to resist. he just lays down, letting you crawl on top of him, laying mostly on top of him with your head on his chest. he turns the show on while you tuck the two of you in. and when you nuzzle into him, his breath hitches. you smile, because now you know he loves you too.

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Domestic Fluff Masterlist

Links Last Checked: April 28th, 2024

All I Need (ao3) - FayeHunter Luke/Calum T, 1k

Summary: Luke and Calum enjoy a quiet morning in their apartment

a new hope (ao3) - no_clue_who Luke/Ashton G, 1k

Summary: The lightest pitter-patter of rain on the window was the only background noise to Ashton’s cooking. The house was still dark and Luke, nor Petunia, had made an appearance outside of their bedroom. The gray skies and perpetual rain had been a welcoming break to the onslaught of heat over the past few weeks, Ashton enjoyed the quiet and calm of it all.

Ashton grabbed the popcorn and his lunch, sinking further down on the couch and pressing play on the remote.

or how not to watch a movie

Baby's First (ao3) - FayeHunter Luke/Ashton T, 1k

Summary: Luke and Ashton celebrate Olivia's first Christmas

been thinkin' bout you lots lately (ao3) - mukelftv Calum/Ashton G, 1k

Summary: ashton gets calum a birthday present.

changing flights so you’d stay with me (ao3) - bellawritess Michael/Calum, Luke/Ashton T, 9k

Summary: five times Calum saw Michael in an airport, and the one time Michael saw Calum.

Every moment spent, I wish I was with you (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds Calum/Ashton G, 1k

Summary: Calum basks in the calm and untroubled atmosphere that Ashton brings with him, soaking up his presence; comforting and familiar as he cooks them dinner.

Footprints in the Sand (ao3) - gonefornow Luke/Calum T, 1k

Summary: Calum and Luke have a beach vacation.

if it's all a dream, don't wake up (ao3) - lifewasradical Michael/Luke G, 5k

Summary: Calum dreams of it all, but front and center, as always, is Michael, smiling and holding his hand through every scenario. Calum’s always sought out Michael in times of comfort, something he thinks will never change, regardless of how old they get and how many years they spend together.

Or, 5 times Michael tells Calum to go back to sleep and the one time Calum tells Michael to go back to sleep.

kiss in the kitchen like it's a dance floor (ao3) - bellawritess Michael/Calum T, 4k

Summary: Calum hums. "I could stay with you."

Again Michael's heart gives a lurch. "Really?"

"Yeah, why not?"

kiss me under the mistletoe (ao3) - mukelftv Luke/Calum T, 2k

Summary: calum comes over for some holiday fun.

Live Like This Forevermore (ao3) - FayeHunter Luke/Ashton T, 1k

Summary: Luke and Ashton spent a lazy morning together

Lucky Strikes (ao3) - elusivewritings Luke/Calum G, 999

Summary: Luke loves Calum so very much.

Strong (ao3) - no_clue_who Luke/Ashton T, 1k

Summary: Ashton woke up at 5 am to pain. His body was hurting, scratch that, his stomach was hurting him. Again. This was the third time this week that he woke up at some fucked up hour in the night because he was in pain.

He rolled away from Luke, hoping that the change in position would help his pain. He knew it wouldn't but he still hoped.

what a blessing to feel your love (ao3) - mukelftv Michael/Ashton T, 675

Summary: ashton comes home to some hot chocolate.

Wolves (ao3) - no_clue_who Luke/Ashton N/R, 1k

Summary: Ashton knew that he should talk to Luke before doing something like this but he just couldn't leave after seeing her. She was just the cutest dog ever, and she was so small.

So here Ashton was, getting a new leash and collar for the dog he had just adopted. A dog who didn't have a name yet, but was happy as a hell to be with him. The dog Luke had no clue about, he was going to be in so much trouble when he got home. He was going to be in the doghouse for sure.

or how not to adopt a dog.

You Matter to Me (ao3) - no_clue_who Luke/Ashton N/R, 3k

Summary: "God you two act like an old married couple."

"It's because we are?"

Or how not to come out to your friends.

you're my whole house (ao3) - bellawritess Luke/Calum T, 1k

Summary: Calum turns around, loose tie hanging over his unbuttoned shirt. “So there’s some random lady out there who thinks you have kids,” he says, bemused. “That’s great.”

“I like to sow as many seeds of disharmony as I can,” Luke says seriously. “Spread as many conflicting rumours about my life as possible.”

“I should start doing that at the office,” Calum muses. “They know I’m married, but I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned having dogs. Or children, for that matter.”

You shine, (my) blanket burrito (ao3) - Lityria Michael/Luke G, 1k

Summary: Michael had always been fascinated with Luke. There was a special aura around the blonde that had captivated him from the start.

Cute, cuddly Muke Fluff

[house-strong]

༄࿔ needlework

summary ; drabble requested by anon as part of my 1k follower celebration.

“HIIII I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH. Could you do #50 types of kisses for jacaerys please”

“A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck.”

pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x reader

notes ; no notes for this <3

needlework was one of the few things you have grown to become good at over the years.

dedicating hours of your time to weave something so palpable with intricate, fine detailing that you could wear and call your own.

you’re admiring it now – the art of your craftsmanship. it’s a dress, or at least, the working beginnings of one. the ends are frayed with stitches bare and loose. the colors are dark; colors from your family house and house velaryon are mingled, along with the making of your family emblem and a seahorse.

the dress would be beautiful, you thought. it didn’t need to be grand or made of the finest silks, it was something to remind you of home.

“looks like it’s coming along.” jacaerys voice is hushed against your ear, his chin nestling into your shoulder. the length of his brown locks tickle your ear and his arms snake their way around your wrist. his hands are splayed, large and warm against your clothed tummy.

you smile, your own hands gently fingering the unfinished product, “d’you like the colors?”

“i love ‘em,” he murmurs, his nose nuzzling your chin before he raises a hand, finger pulling your face toward him. his breath mingled with yours, his eyes big and colored like walnuts. his eyes flutter shut, lashes kissing the freckled skin beneath. you follow suit, leaning up to join him with his kiss.

after a chaste kiss, you pull away, giving him a sweet smile. he gives you a similar one, eyes turning to gaze at the makeshift dress in your hands. you follow his line of sight, fingers drawing over the seahorse.

“a seahorse,” you whisper, “for house velaryon.”

he hums in response, his lips placing a wet kiss on your jaw. you continue to describe the dress to him in a hushed tone, and with each description, his kiss trails to the soft flesh of your neck, then the conjunction of your shoulders to your neck where the collarbone laid.

you feel goosebumps in the wake of his kisses, sending a blossom of warmth through your veins. he gets to a ticklish spot where his hair reaches and you recoil at the sensation. you giggle slightly, your hand raising to ruffle the hair that dangles over your shoulder.

“jacaerys,” you warn. “are you listening to me?”

“‘m proud of your needlework, my love.” he responds, raising his brow to send you a look out the corner of his eye – or rather, what he could see from where his face is nestled. “‘m showing my appreciation.”

“mm, i’m sure you are.”

“i think it’s beautiful,” jace says once he pulls away, his hands moving to rub at your arms comfortingly. he places one more kiss on your skin, this time, on your cheek. “i’ll leave you to it, if you want me to.”

you shake your head, your own hands finding his once he wraps his arms around you again.

“stay.”

[therhythmafterthesummer]

[00:08] (M) ~Han Jisung

Pairing: BestFriend!Jisung x Reader Themes: Suggestive | Fluff | Best Friends to Lovers Warnings: heavy making out, groping, mentions of drinking/alcohol Word Count: ~1k | AO3 Summary: When you agreed to come to this party, you would’ve never imagined you’d end up making out with your best friend, but you were certainly not going to complain. Not when you’d wanted this for the longest time.

Author’s Note: another silly little warm up, keeping the b2l theme :^). Jisung’s blond hair and pretty face are too much for me to handle. i had to cope somehow.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

The wall behind your back was vibrating slightly with the loud music that was playing inside the house, but it was hard to register when you also had a very firm, warm human body pressed against you.

Your friends decided to throw a last minute party to celebrate the end of your fourth year at university, and at first you had declined the invitation because you weren’t really a party person. You’d go, usually, just to spend some time with your friends, maybe drink a little, but most of the time the noise was too much, the amount of people overwhelmed you, and the smell of smoke made you nauseous.

However, your best friend, Jisung, convinced you to go anyway using nothing but an adorable pout and a ‘pretty please come with me. I’ll get bored without you’, and you ended up agreeing after making him promise that he’d give you a lift at any given moment if you wanted to leave.

When you agreed, you never expected to end up here, pressed up against the concrete wall, hidden behind the small shed in the backyard, with your best friend’s tongue inside your mouth. You honestly weren’t even sure how it happened, maybe it was the time of day, or the couple of beers you’d had, lowering your inhibitions enough to feel the tension that had built between your friend and you while you talked about everything and nothing in this relatively private space.

Jisung kissed you like a starved man, and honestly you weren’t exactly holding back either. His hands held your waist tightly, keeping you firmly in place, while you tugged on his hair, relishing every groan and sigh and grunt that came out of his lips, mingling with the sounds of your wet kiss. Every single one of his movements had you feeling tingly, had tiny sparks of excitement coursing up and down your spine, fueling the fire burning in the pit of your stomach.

You met Jisung in your first year at uni, and your friendship somehow managed to withstand the test of time. He was one of the people you trusted most in this world, he was always kind, funny, attentive, and even if he was a bit stubborn as well, you ended up developing the biggest crush you’d ever had in your life. It also didn’t help that he was hot as fuck, especially these days with his recently died blonde hair, his incredibly strong arms and chest, and his adorable round cheeks.

At first you tried to ignore your crush, to carry on with your life as normal, tried to go on dates, but no one really stuck around, so a year ago you stopped looking for someone else altogether, resigning yourself to simply crushing on your best friend, and doing nothing about it because you were too much of a coward.

Jisung had been single for a couple of years, and he also seemed to stop going on dates around the same time you did. At the time you couldn’t quite understand why he wasn’t out there, you knew there’d be lines and lines of people ready to date him as soon as he sent a quick text. Now, as his hand slid from your waist to grope your ass and his teeth sunk on your bottom lip, you finally understood why.

“Jisung–” You tried to speak, but it was hard to when you just wanted to keep your lips on his, to feel his tongue play with your own, to feel his chest against yours.

“Mm?” Jisung seemed to be in the same predicament, and he finally let go of your ass to cup your cheeks instead, lightly stroking your skin with his thumbs as he kept pressing pecks on your lips.

“Wanna… Wanna go home”.

Jisung pulled back from you with slightly wide eyes. His cheeks were flushed, his lips were kiss-bitten, his gaze flickered from one of your eyes to the other, and you had to resist the urge to go back to devouring his mouth again. Taking a step back, he let go of your face. “Oh…”

That crestfallen look in his eyes let you know he had completely misunderstood your words, so you took a hold of his hoodie stepping into his space. “Why are you looking at me like that? I wanna go home… With you”.

“Oh?” Jisung looked genuinely surprised, and you would’ve laughed at the absurdity of it all had you not been burning up from the inside out. “You do?”

“Are you doubting it? We just spent an eternity making out against this wall, Han Jisung”, you chuckled, looping your arms around his neck to pull him close, and his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you even closer with a sheepish smile on his face.

“I mean… I’d convinced myself this would never happen so I’m… You know…”

You blinked, confused. “Why wouldn’t it happen?”

Jisung chuckled, pressing his hands flat on the small of your back. “Have you seen yourself? You could have anyone you wanted. Up until thirty minutes ago I thought you saw me as a friend. Thought my feelings were one-sided”.

“Have you seen yourself?” You brought one of your hands to his face, squeezing his cheeks, making him pout. “It’s honestly unfair how hot you are”.

Jisung’s flush seemed to deepen, and you couldn’t help but smile as he stumbled over his words. “That’s not–I mean–But you–”

“Jisung”, you squished his cheeks a bit harder, stopping his ramble on the spot. “We can fight over who’s hotter later. If you don’t take me home and fuck me, I will fuck you against this wall right now”.

Jisung went quiet for a moment, until he finally detached himself from you, taking your hand in his and tugging you along the backyard, and back into the house. Everyone was already wasted inside, but the party was still pretty much alive, the music was incredibly loud, people were dancing, talking–more like screaming–and playing games.

You and Jisung ignored all of it, making your way towards the front door, to finally step outside and walk all the way to Jisung’s car. It was taking so long, too long for your liking. You wanted to have his lips on you again, so you tugged on his hand to get him to stop moving, crashing into him, kissing him deeply, hungrily, and the desperate sounds that came out of his mouth as he held the back of your head and reciprocated your kiss certainly made it all worth it.

“Just for the record…” Jisung mumbled against your lips between kisses, hugging your waist tightly and walking backwards towards his car with you in his arms. “I would’ve one hundred percent let you fuck me against that wall, but your bed sounds way more appealing”.

You simply chuckled, sucking on his bottom lip, making him giggle. “I’ll keep that in mind, then”.

You both stopped walking as soon as you found yourselves by Jisung’s car. With your hands on his chest you pushed him against the door, sneaking your tongue inside his mouth to glide against his. Gripping your ass, Jisung held you against him, pulling you impossibly closer to him as one of his legs slotted between yours, his thigh adding much needed friction against your core, making you whine.

Jisung’s lips were so soft, so swollen from all the biting and nibbling you’d been doing, better than you could’ve ever imagined they’d feel like against your own, better than you could’ve ever imagined they’d taste like. You could feel him hard against your stomach, undeniable proof that you weren’t just making this all up in your head, he really wanted you just as much as you wanted him, and the feeling had your head spinning a bit.

“C’mon”, with one more squeeze to your buttcheek, and a final, loud kiss on your lips, Jisung got you off of him, digging into his pocket for his car keys to unlock the doors, chuckling once he saw the pout on your face. “Let’s go before I bust a nut right here, right now”.

“How romantic”, you couldn’t help but laugh, rounding the car and opening the passenger door to finally climb inside.

As soon as the car was on and your safety belts were secured in place, Jisung started to drive, taking the road that you knew would lead to your home the fastest. It was silent for a while. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but there was certainly something lingering in the space. You could almost feel your own neediness radiate off of you, just like you could feel Jisung’s, and it had you vibrating with excitement right where you sat.

Suddenly, you felt warmth envelop your hand, and when your gaze shifted from the road to your lap, you saw Jisung’s fingers link with yours, holding your hand, softly caressing your knuckles with his thumb. 

“So… What would you like for breakfast tomorrow? Waffles? Pancakes?” Jisung’s eyes never left the road. There was a tiny smile on his lips, coupled with the faintest blush on his cheeks, the sight had your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Waffles. With maple syrup and butter”, you replied simply, holding his hand tighter.

“With maple syrup and butter”, Jisung repeated, glancing at you for a second before returning his eyes to the road.

It didn’t matter, really. You would’ve had anything for breakfast, as long as you had Jisung with you there the next morning. Maybe even the one after that, too… And the one after that, and the one after that, and the one after that…

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme @oiminho @dundullresident @honey-lemon-goose @lavenderxkies @biribarabiribbaem @meowmeowhoon @dearalice @alexis-reads-fics @xcookiemonsteer @knowleeknow @chanlovesme @liminaldaydream @sstarryreads @svngiem @notastraykid If you want to be removed from the list (or if i tagged you incorrectly) just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !

[hotteoki]

stray kids masterlist

©️ hotteoki | do not repost

(a) = angst (f) = fluff (c) = crack 🍧 = 1k notes

author's favourites are in bold with an arrow!

bang chan

headphones on (f)

[1:43AM] (f)

texts (f)(c) 🍧

your camera roll if you were dating chan (f)

minho

-> your camera roll if you were dating minho (f) 🍧

changbin

texts (f)(c) 🍧

your camera roll if you were dating changbin (f)

hyunjin

texts (f)(c) 🍧

your camera roll if you were dating hyunjin (f)

jisung

texts (f)(c)

your camera roll if you were dating jisung (f)

felix

until i found you (f)

flirty text timeline (f) 🍧

your camera roll if you were dating felix (f) 🍧

seungmin

-> texts (f)(c)

jeongin

side effects (a)

-> texts (f)(c)

baby pictures texts (f)(c)

shining, my 2006 (a)

ot8

going into a haunted house (f)

skz & their hogwarts houses (f)

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-> texts with skz (f)(c) 🍧

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skz with not financially strong reader (thoughts)

calling skz by their first name (texts) (f)(c) 🍧🍧

sending skz their baby / predebut pics (f)(c) 🍧

-> more texts with skz (collection) (f)(c) 🍧🍧🍧🍧 (total)

texting skz meow as a prank (f)(c)

getting into an argument with hyung line (a) 🍧🍧

skz texts as quotes from our gc (f)(c)

fluffy skz texts (f)

skz boyfriend things - 1k celebration (f) 🍧

prank texting boyfriend skz 'imagine if we were dating'(f)(c) 🍧

-> prank texting “attachment” to skz (f) (c) 🍧

making fun of skz's skzoo outfits (f)(c)

texts with skz as your ex (a)

-> ‘do you ever wish you were taller?’ text prank on skz (f)(c) 🍧🍧

-> skz as doordasher texts (c) 🍧

calling bf skz ‘bro’ (c) 🍧

skz as doordasher texts part 2 (c)

-> texts with bf skz - 2k celebration (c)

bf skz sending you a pic of them (f)(c)

christmas things with bf skz (f)

meet uglys with stray kids (f)(c)

series

the price of resurrection (ot8) (discontinued)

[makeyoumine69]

dubcon + creampie for the celebration please? thanks!

Yearning

◥ PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

◥ SUMMARY: You forgot one very important rule - never be rude to Patrick Bateman.

◥ WARNINGS: 18+/ NSFW │ dub-con, fingering, wall sex, cheating, swearing, creampie, degradation, Patrick being an asshole.

◥ WORDCOUNT: 1k

◥ A/N: Finally, I'm pleased with the result. Sorry it took me so long to write this, I hope you like it! Thank you sm for the request!🥰

◥ LINKS: │Bingo Writing Challange Masterlist│ │Main Masterlist│

The sounds of jazzy music were quietly playing in the background mixing with the loud crowd noise, making it hard for you to follow up another of Bateman’s monologues about how he hated these parties and most of the guests.

“Why are you still here if you can’t stand places like this?” You questioned, slightly rolling your eyes.

“Because Evelyn would take my head, if I dared to leave her cheesy party,” pouting, Patrick took another glass of champagne from the waiter's tray. “And why are you asking like you really care?”

Sighing, you glowered at him before reciting: “You still haven’t told her about us, right?”

Bateman let out a weary breath and quickly had a sip of his drink, not breaking eye contact with you. “I’ve repeatedly noted that this topic is closed… Once and for all. I don't intend to discuss it.”

“Oh, really?” what an asshole–you bellowed to yourself, feeling an intolerable urge to punch him right into his perfect face. “You know what?”

“What?” Patrick rejoined in a challenging way.

“Screw you and your fucking fiancée!”

Before you left, you noticed his deadly stare, but you didn’t care as you were already moving across the big living room, searching for the exit.

As soon as you stepped into the narrow corridor, you heard someone’s loud footsteps behind your back. Frowning, you were about to spin around to check who it was, when the large palm tightened around your neck, causing you to wince as if from a wasp sting.

“What the-” You tried to shout, but you were immediately hushed as someone pressed you against the wall. And then, you saw Bateman’s conceited face, as he was towering over you, his hands continuously slithering over your frightened face. 

“You better keep your mouth shut, if you don’t want me to choke you right here,” pure rage was seething inside his body, you could sense it in the way he squeezed your jaw, inducing your eyes to water. “Fuck, what a whiny stupid bitch…”

Breathing rapidly, Patrick looked over the surrounding space, and the next things he did were dragging you to the door nearby, opening it and literally pushing you into the dark room.

Once he gave you the ability to speak, you almost squeaked: “W-what the hell is wrong with you?!”

Briskly, Bateman found the light switch on the wall beside you, sprawling you against it with his massive muscles. “You can't talk to me like that, (Y/N). No one can!”

Growling, he trapped you in his brawny arms, making you wail through your half-compressed lips: “Pat-Patrick… Stop-aghh,” you yelped from how his mouth latched on the sweet spot on your neck. “Don’t… Don’t t-touch me!”

“Fucking whore…Stop fronting and kiss me already!” snuggling into you more and more persistently, Bateman licked your cheek. “Use your mouth as intended, for once!”

Squirming against his broad chest, you attempted to push him back, but he was so huge and strong, you didn’t even have a chance. “A-aah, get off… Get off of me! We are at Evelyn's house, for God’s sake!”

“So what?” savagely, he slammed you against the wall, his firm hand was already between your legs, teasing your treacherously drenched pussy with light strokes. “You want me to bring her here, so she can watch us fuckin’? Tell me, slut. Is that what you want?” he smacked your ass with his free palm, squashing it after and making you nearly sob into his ear. “Or maybe you want everyone in this house to know what a pathetic whore you are?”

“Oh, Gosh…No, n-no,” you moaned as his sneaky digits eventually reached inside your panties, and now they were playing with your engorged little tip. “P-Patrick… Mmm,” you pleaded, fiercely wreathing your arms around his beefy torso, as the lascivious desire was taking over your mind too soon. “You can stop this… It's not too late-aaahhh, p-please…”

With an immodest squelch, Patrick shoved his fingers inside your sleek pussy, harshly stretching you from the inside, forcing a loud moan to fall from your lips. “No, silly...It’s too late since you decided to be a bitch!”

Pressing you harder against the wall, he went even deeper, burying his fingers almost till the knuckles, twisting and curling them at a ruthless pace. Abashed, you arched your back instinctively, feeling yourself so close to the edge from the way his experienced digits were working up your tight inner channel. 

“Mm-mmhm, I’mma cum…”

“Already? God, you’re so wretched,” instantly, Bateman pulled out his fingers to spin you around, with your ass brushing against his hard groin. “I’ll forgive you this time, but never again will you dare to test my kindness,” he enunciated while unzipping his pants, covering your mouth with his big palm, because he knew what was going next. “Be quiet, and maybe I will let you cum.”

Huffing in anticipation, he possessively bent you over for a better angle, and then Patrick slapped your butt several times with his stony cock; his blushing tip was already so leaking, you could sense the pre-cum dripping on your skin.

“Mm-mhh, Pat!” muffling through his fingers, you jolted under his weight as he was sheathing himself into your needy cunt until his heavy balls hit your ass. “A-aawww, mm-so d-deep…”

“(Y/N), I know, now shush…” Bateman muttered, putting his chin on your head and rocking into your little form with relentless exertion; your legs becoming weaker with each thrust he made. “Such a cock drunk slut, s-shit…”

Absolutely shameless sounds of flesh-meeting-flesh along with your taut nipples rubbing against the wall, impelled your inner walls to encase his dick so tightly, you both twitched from a blissful delight, while Patrick had to nuzzle against your neck to stifle his growls.

Panting, you both lost it nearly at the same time, his beefy shaft never stopped drilling your little hole, even when you reached your climax, and your whole insides were exploding from the ecstatic sensation of being flooded with his hot cum.

[call-sign-shark]

Yo Shark, there's almost no Goosexreader fic :( can you write a one shot in which the reader is Goose's love interest please?

Hey there honey, here is some love from Goose 💚 Don't worry, in this house Goose never died. :)

Pairing: Nick Bradshaw x Reader, Goose x Pilot!reader

Wordcount: 1k

Tags: none, this is fluff

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════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A drop of sweat, similar to a shiny pearl, ran down your neck. The temperature of summer 86' was so high that some strands of your short blonde hair were sticking to the moist skin of your forehead and temples. When the bartender placed the fresh glass of beer you just ordered in front of you, you hastened to drink a first gulp in a desperate attempt to cool your body down. The sensation of freshness and of bubbles, fizzling on your tongue, took you to heaven. After several swigs, you gently pulled your lips away from the edge of the glass and tilted your head ear-to-shoulder on each side to relieve the tension in your neck. 

"Finally." You whispered to yourself, leaving all the stress and noise of this hard day of training behind you. As much as you loved your job, the blast of the jet's engine and the smell of kerosene almost made you faint when they were mixed with such extreme weather. Today, even Hollywood had to be brought to the nursery. Not that you cared, but you had to admit that the man was usually quite tough. 

Good Gracious Lord, Great Balls of Fire!

The joyful melody burst in the pub as the man playing hit the keys with his fingertips in expert gestures. It was as if he had done that all of his life. Soon, his voice sang along the music and filled the room with electrifying energy. You raised your head to sweep the room with your piercing eyes, curious until your gaze falls on the man sitting in front of the piano. You immediately recognized him - as if one could ignore who he was. Staring at his tall frame moving with the song he was playing, you shook your head. Goose always knew how to put on a show. He just loved the attention, but what he loved the most was the good mood he could bring to the people around him. Even if you were exhausted from your day, you could not help but wiggle your foot in rhythm just under the bar counter. 

Goose finished up the song, hitting the keyboard one last time with a strong movement, then he threw his head back and howled like a wolf. Maverick, his partner in crime and fellow pilot, soon followed him in this primal yet quite funny way of celebrating the end of their spectacle.

"Did ya see that? We are on fire tonight!" Maverick boasted, wrapping one arm around his best friend's shoulders. His lips stretched in a charming smile adorned with perfect white teeth. 

"That's maybe why the weather is so hoooot. That's because of us, honey."

They both burst into laughter as they stood up from the piano bench. They slapped each other butt before heading straight to the bar counter. The tall blonde man raised one hand to catch the attention of the bartender. "Two beers for two legends!"  He laughed.

Your eyes followed each of the duo's moves as they sat on stools and clinked their beers together. Goose brought the glass to his lips, but as he did his warm brown eyes noticed you, sitting a little further away. A glimmer of delight sparkled in the chocolate pools his irises were. There we go ... You thought. Since the first day you were introduced to the squad, Goose had set his sights on you. Viper had barely left you with the other pilots and the tall blonde man started to hit on you. Yet, you always rejected him. You joined Top Gun to become the best female pilot of your times, not to frolic with some arrogant and horny soldiers. Being one of the few women in a military context was already difficult enough by itself to bother yourself with relationships. Nevertheless, Goose had something. A something that you always struggled to define. Of course, the man was kind of handsome: tall thin boy with charming traits, seductive brown eyes and a perfectly trimmed mustache embracing his upper lip. But his irresistible charisma had nothing to do with his looks. It was his whole attitude: Nick "Goose" Bradshaw was a sunshine.  His humor and adorable silly attitude irradiated from him and infected all the people surrounding him. You probably would have fallen for him in another context... But life decided otherwise.

"Y/CS!" His voice cheered. He stood up from his stool to join you, pushing his best friend out of the way. Maverick jumped: he had almost spilled his beer. With one elegant movement, the dark-haired pilot spinned on the stool to observe Goose and Y/N talking. He could not help but smirk: Goose was going to go back home alone tonight once again, and he did not want to miss such a spectacle.

Goose hopped on the stool that was next to yours, and rest his elbow on the bar counter to press his chin against the back of his hands. You looked at him with one raised eyebrow.

"I am more than delighted to see you here. You're so beautiful tonight that I can compare you to a magnificent mirage in this desert of drunk soldiers and tipsy Madames." He said, making his best impression of a gentleman. Then, he leaned towards you with his most beautiful smile: "Would you bless a poor sinner like me with a dance?"  His eyebrows wiggled in a more than flirtatious fashion.

A little chuckle escaped from your rosy lips. You stared at him silently for a few solid seconds before drinking the last sip of your beer: " Goose, Goose, Goose...How many times are you going to play this stupid game with me?"

"Until you say yes to me, honey." He winked, a mischievous grin sculpted on his tempting lips. 

You leaned a bit more toward him, bringing your face a little bit closer to his. The luscious scent of his tanning spray and after-shave caressed your nose. You hummed, as discreetly as you can, before moistening your lips with the tip of your tongue.

"Don't be a silly goose." 

"I'm nothing but a silly Goose." 

"Alright. One dance and after that, you leave me alone."  You gave up, rolling your eyes to show how annoyed you were -- but were you really that annoyed? 

The young soldier leaped from the stool with a noisy "yee-haw". Doing so, he turned his head to look at Maverick. The dark-haired man had been as surprised as Goose at your positive answer. After weeks and weeks of rejection, you agreed to dance? He could not believe his ears. Delighted by his partner's astonishment, the tall blonde gave him the finger and turned his attention back to you again. Goose offered his hand, a charming smile on his lips. You could not help but chuckle… His charms definitely work on you. You followed him through the ocean of sweaty bodies dancing in the pub until you both reach a more breathable corner. “Alright, just focus on my eyes, nothing else,” Goose said, his voice turning into a soft melody sung in your ear. He pulled back his face slightly and pressed his hands on your hips. The single sensation of his palms’ warmth sent shivers down your spine. You felt him pressing a little bit more, bringing your body against his until your hips met. Goose”s chocolate eyes were locked in yours, drowning in their infinite beauty. You swallowed with a bit of difficulty as you abandoned your body in his hands. To be honest, you had never been a great dancer - or at least you had never danced with someone. Yet, Goose took you away with him in a slow dance, as delicate as a rose petal swirling in the wind. One minute into this dance was enough for you to make you forget everything that was surrounding you: the other pilots, the suffocating heat, and even the stress of your day. All that mattered was him, and the intoxicating perfume that was pleasantly tingling your nostril. You half-closed your eyes; your face resting in the crook of his neck.

“Bradshaw?”

“Yes, honey?” He answered, lowering his eyes but still dancing with snuggled in his arms.

You pulled back your face from him to dive your gaze into his. As you did so, a slight pink shade appeared on his cheeks. You were so dazzling he could barely breathe. 

“What if you take me to bed or lose me forever?” 

His face enlightened at your sweet words. Goose moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue and parted them to speak: “Show me the way home…” He murmured, before kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Honey.” 

[bookish-whore]

Illicit Affairs Pt.II

Eris x Reader

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: idk probably angst

A/N: Welcome to Day Six of my 1k Celebration!!! It's been a long week and tomorrow is the last day. So, I just want to thank you for coming on this journey with me ❤️ Today's fic is part two to this and I initially had a longer idea planned but the more I thought about it the more I just wanted two people who would never work together and go their separate ways, So I kind of kept it short and sweet.

My Masterlist -> Here

Join my Taglist -> Here

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I couldn’t sleep.

I spent all night lying awake in my room, thinking about that moment. The way he had apologized before introducing me to her.

His fiancée.

Katerina.

Eris.

All of it had just become so complicated and I had no idea how it had all spiraled so fast.

I had reached out to Azriel asking to be removed from this mission because it had all become so personal. He had agreed to pick me up tomorrow he was smart not to ask for details because I think having to explain that I fucked Eris and compromised my position would definitely change the nature of our working relationship. All I knew is that I needed to get out of here and he needed to assign someone else this task.

I figured I would spend my last day walking the grounds of the house. I had always felt so at peace in nature. Surrounded by trees out here I didn’t have to pretend, I could simply exist. I found a spot with a huge tree that had branches that hung down over the river and I climbed onto it, laying my body over the strong oak allowing my fingers to skim the surface of the water.

I had brought a notebook with me, and I planned to write out what I had so far, I needed to see things in front of me to put them together so I could give the next spy the rundown of what we had gathered so far.

As I worked, I listened to the sounds of the river rushing past and I tried not to think about him but my luck seemed to be against me as a familiar voice disturbed my contemplation.

“So, this is where you have been hiding”

I rolled my eyes, tucking my journal into my bag as I stood on the branch making my way towards solid ground.

“Gods, can’t you just leave me alone” I groaned as I attempted to walk past him.

He grasped me around the arm “Please y/n, just let me explain” he begged

“I don’t want an explanation Eris, I want you to leave me alone” I gritted as I pulled my arm from his grip

“I was going to tell you about her”

“Oh, you were. Was this before or after you fucked me?” I asked

“It wasn’t like that y/n” he said “I wasn’t trying to trick you or lead you on. I swear when I came to your room my intention wasn’t to sleep with you.”

“So, the flirting was unintentional as well?”

“You didn’t seem to mind it.” He retorted

“I’m not the one who is engaged!” I yelled

“You think I want to be?!” he yelled back. I was startled at the volume I didn’t expect him to yell back. My shock must have been clear on my face because his next words were a normal volume. “It is my duty to take a wife, a match that will produce strong heirs and Katerina she was chosen for me she comes from a noble family and she knows the court, she knows her duty”

“Then I should offer my congratulations” I said sarcastically turning once again to leave

“y/n please” Eris begged

“What more is there to discuss Eris?” I asked allowing my desperation to seep into my voice. I didn’t want to have this conversation with him of all people. Not when it was so raw, not when I felt so vulnerable about it.

“You aren’t just some other woman I slept with” he said

“What do you mean”

“I mean this-this connection between us. You feel it too, don’t you?” he asked tucking a stray hair behind my ear as he stepped closer to me.

“Please don’t” I pleaded

“Y/n…come on this has to feel like a sign. I mean you show up in my court after that amazing night we spent together when you didn’t know who I was. When you didn’t look at me like Eris Vanserra, when you didn’t immediately assume I was the big bad wolf because of who my father is or because of what I have done in the past. I was allowed to just be me.”

“Eris you are engaged” I reminded him, but I think I was really reminding myself of this not so insignificant fact. “There was never a future for us we just got caught up in the romanticism of it all”

“You know when my father brought her to me and told me I would marry her I refused and do you know what he told me?” he chuckled at the memory “He clasped me on the shoulder and said ‘my boy duty is the death of love’” he paused a moment as if deep in thought “I will marry her because it is my duty and you will return to your court and find some nice man who can fuck you decently and we will both remember the fond time when I was just a man at a ball and you were just an emissary in my court”

“I suppose there are worse fates” I said my voice cracking at how this felt, it felt like a goodbye but it also felt like all of the unsaid words between us, the unspoken promises we had whispered against each other’s skin, the unexpressed opportunity that we both found ourselves missing.

I went home the next day without so much as a goodbye.

A few months later I heard he was married from Rhysand. I went home that night and sobbed, I didn’t really understand why because we weren’t anything to each other besides a few stolen kisses and a few nights we spent lost in each other.

But I still reminisce on that brief time when he was mine and I was his and the world didn’t matter.

I guess that’s the thing about illicit affairs.

They end, and all you’re left with are the burning memories and promises that would be unfulfilled.

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Tune in Tomorrow for the final day ❤️

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[headkiss]

I headcanon Steve as a lightweight when it comes to weed and alcohol- could you write something where Eddie, Robin, Steve, and reader we’re hanging out at his house and Steve is either really high or really tipsy and everyone is just like 🧍‍♀️homie you had a singular hard cider nothing even that strong and reader has to drag him up to his room so he can sleep

okay i don’t know if i wrote this well but here it is! 1k words of drunk steve and taking care of him (i think) hope u enjoy <33

Steve’s home had become the regular hangout spot for you and your friends. It was spacious, with plenty of room on couches and extra beds for people to sleep on if needed. The fridge was stocked, the pool was heated. What more did you need?

Tonight was one for your smaller circle within the group. You, Eddie, Robin, and Steve were all sat around in the living room drinking and chatting and laughing. It was nice to have this back. To have the lighthearted fun and ability to act like young adults again.

To be carefree, if only for a night.

Since his ‘King Steve’ days, he hasn’t been a partier, and his tolerance is basically gone. It was something you warned him about, just a reminder for him, and he laughed it off. You didn’t care if he got drunk, because he deserved to. You all did. You only wanted to make sure he was doing so on purpose.

It was a great night, the sticky heat of summer like a haze over it all. None of you cared about what time it was or how noisy you were being. Something about that made you feel at peace, like life was somewhat normal again.

Despite the scars, both emotional and physical, of everything to do with the upside down, it was dealt with, and this really made you feel it. You finally had something to celebrate.

As the night went on, the drink supply ran lower, a sign that celebrating was definitely being done here. You had chosen to stay on the sober side, just in case. Someone had to be of a sound mind and for your friends sake, you took that on.

No matter your sobriety level, though, you still had fun.

These were your favorite people in the world and you loved being around them, because you all went through so much together, you all understood.

It was late now, Eddie and Robin both spread out on their respective couches, sprawled happily. Steve was still wide awake, singing in the middle of the room by himself, you watched with a smile.

He was drunk. It was so cute.

When he turned to face you, he grinned, motioning for you to join him, “baby! Dance with me!”

“Harrington, how are you this drunk? I swear you had like three drinks man,” Eddie spoke from his spot on the couch, chuckling at the sight of Steve stumbling over to you and grabbing your hand to dance.

“Eddie, you wanna dance too? How ‘bout you, Robin?”

Eddie simply laughed, while Robin replied saying, “is your girlfriend not enough for you, Steve? I’m never letting you live this down.”

Steve pulled you in, slow dancing with no music playing and the eyes of your best friends watching you in amusement. They were used to seeing him be the babysitter, not the one needing to be watched. It was hilarious to them.

His hands were around your waist, spinning you and pulling you in so your back was to his chest while he swayed. He was humming a tune with his chin perched on your shoulder, the soft tune sounding in your ear.

“Stevie, why don’t we go upstairs? Let these two sleep.”

“Mmm, but this is so nice!”

“Come on. Upstairs.”

You stepped away from him, taking hold of his hand and dragging him along behind you, making sure to walk slower so he wouldn’t fall over. Though, it didn’t stop him from stubbing his toe on the first step when you reached it.

“Shit! Ow.”

“Shhh, you’re fine.”

“You won’t kiss it better?” he was pouting at you.

“Not if it’s on your foot, Stevie. Sorry.”

“‘M squeaky clean! Promise.”

“Oh my god. Let’s go.”

You took his arm and put it around your shoulders, using that leverage to drag him along up the stairs into his room. You walked into his ensuite with him in tow, letting him go to start the shower.

“Here, you’re gonna shower, okay? Then you will be squeaky clean.”

“You’re the best, baby. Best girlfriend ever.”

He kissed you with a loud, exaggerated ‘mwah!’ and then just started to strip. You giggled at him, struggling to step out of his jeans and even getting his head stuck in his shirt somehow. You helped him out of it and he gave you another peck when his head was back in sight.

“Okay, Steve. You get in the shower, I’ll wait for you.”

“Booo! You’re not joining?”

“Not this time. Go, you’re wasting water!”

He obeyed, and once he was in the shower you went to his closet to grab him, and yourself, a change of clothes. You put on your pair of boxers and shirt of his right away, then listening to make sure he was still alive in the shower.

Once you heard the water shut off, you knocked on the door, making sure he was okay for you to come in, “Stevie, got your pjs.”

“Ooooh! Bring ‘em in, baby.”

The prospect of him being so excited about a change of clothes made you giggle as you stepped into the bathroom, seeing Steve with a towel around his waist and hair falling into his face. You pushed his hair back, then set the clothes on the counter.

“There you go, mr. squeaky clean. I’ll wait for you in bed.”

“Thank you, my best girl.”

“Your only girl!”

“Still the best!”

You shook your head with a smile. Even in his inebriated state he managed to fluster you, to make you feel all the little schoolgirl crush feelings. You loved seeing him so relaxed after so long was a reward. You hoped it would stay this way, this calm.

Laying on the bed waiting took longer than expected, and you even heard a loud thump which must’ve been Steve bumping into something in the meantime.

He burst out of the bathroom and jumped onto the bed next to you, causing the mattress to bounce you slightly.

“My bed, I missed it.”

“Did you really?”

“Yes! It’s so comfortable, right?”

“Totally.”

“Let’s cuddle, please. C’mon, baby.”

You moved over, letting him lay his head on your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into you. He was so soft, so giddy, and it had you giggling yet again.

“That comfy, Stevie?”

“So comfy. Love you.”

He was practically snoring before you could even reply, but still, you planted a kiss on his head and spoke back, “love you too.”