#i care these skittles so much
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cassettemoon · 2 years ago
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Forces of nature have families too, don't they?
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thorn-rosed · 2 days ago
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i need more unhinged barty. more crazy barty. and not in the usual style of "he's a psychopath that kills people" but more as "he's a psychopath who obsesses over everything/everyone".
my man has serious issues, he stalks the most random people and if you ask why, he'll just reply with "bored". there are folders in his flat with information on different people, some of them he only met in the street once and decided to follow. if he's really frisky he'll get a spy into the goverment, set up cameras and recorders everywhere, just to have some gossip to listen to. he would have so much secret goverment information in his flat, totally not secured and lying around on the most random places. barty is so obsessive, once he has a hyperfixation he needs to know everything about it. if he wants to achieve something, he goes crazy about this, he doesnt sleep until he made enough progress, or until he finished his projects. it gets evan really concerned sometimes, but barty doesn't relax in any way during that phase, if it isnt for the joints he's smoking with regulus. over the years, the skittles worked out a proper method to stop barty from becoming properly insane, but after they die he's left with none of this. barty clings to anything, just he has something to take his mind off things. this obviously makes it even worse because there are none of his friends to help him connect to reality. he goes crazy. once every few months, pandora comes over and tries to keep him sane for a few hours, but after she died too, theres nothing and no one anymore.
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scp2337 · 9 months ago
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CAN I SEE YOUR TURTLE??
YEAH! This is Skittles, she's a red eared slider. we keep her here in the tank at work. maintenance found her in the drain at the pool when they opened it for the season last year . (we've had three in total, always found at the pool, and once they get too big we release them into the lake when it's warm enough)
I'm mainly the one who takes care of her (our HR lady cleans the tank, i feed her and get her out of the tank to explore every other day). occasionally i show up at work on my days off to make sure they've fed her and stuff. i like putting her in Situations for enrichment, this week i put her on a tech deck for the first time (she does better with it on the carpet instead of the concrete)
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mintiestcrystal · 1 year ago
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me: why do i feel like actual garbage
my throat: well you haven't-
me: i cant think of any cause
my stomach: and you also haven't-
me: seriously, what is going on
my meds bottles: you forgot to-
me: ITS SUCH A MYSTERY
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frecklystars · 10 months ago
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ken is the type of boyfriend to want to surprise me with my favorite pastry (donuts) to cheer me up but doesn't know which one i'd want the most so he just gets all of them. comes home with 15 dozen boxes. we end up having to share them with the entirety of barbieland or else they'll go bad (hey, if plastic milk can expire, so can plastic donuts)!
driver brings home apple pie bc he assumes it's my favorite. it's not. well, apple is my favorite pie flavor, but pie itself is not my favorite pastry.
...but i would never tell him that, bc i love our routine of eating apple pie together at our favorite diner at two in the morning and i'd be sad if that ever stopped. sure, we could get donuts at 2am, but it wouldn't be the same. the fact that he'd go out of his way to drive us to a diner and sit us down and drape his jacket over my shoulders while sharing a slice of pie with me -- i dunno. it's nice.
#if the ice cream at the beach is free im assuming the donuts would be too#you think Tall Ken paid for his own ice cream when he bought himself and Beach Ken ice creams? please.#Kens have no money they have no car they have no job they have no house they have no crotch they have NOTHING#except my unconditional love and support 24/7#if ken ever has to buy anything he's on his knees begging barbie 'PLEASE BARBIE WILL YOU BUY DONUTS FOR OUR SWEET GIRL???'#but he'll say her name like Ryan did when he was running toward her at the bus stop --#BARBAY!!! BARBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!! ...y'know like that.#god i need to watch the movie again#i watched it last night but i need it AGAIN#love notes#💕 I'll fight for you!! - ̗̀🐎🏖️✨ ̖́-#💕♬♪ ♡ I do nothing but think of you - ̗̀💙🔨 ̖́-#every time driver says 'i got you pie... it's your favorite :)' im like uh huh :)#looking him right into those ocean blues and lying. yes it's my favorite. how'd u know babe??#if i ever told him i'd prefer donuts or cake he would change the routine surely#but where's the fun in that when i look at apple pie with so much fondness now#just like i used to not care for skittles but now i like to eat them every now and then#because Six eats skittles and Ryan talked about how Six would eat skittles in the field#i love associating food with F/Os i love them urging me to eat and to eat well#i'll be laying in bed feeling awful and then i'll think... 'barbie would want me to eat' so it makes me get up#hey whatever works right!!#woof#love notes: driver ♡#love notes: ken ♡
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shikakunaras · 1 year ago
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Wicked side eye vs long annoyed sigh. I annoyed 2/3 of my cat today.
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juleswritesstuff · 6 months ago
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Am I the only one who thinks most of the Marauders and the Slytherin Skittles would have the biggest praise kink in history ?
warnings: smut
James would have one because of his constant need to be perfect, to be what he thinks the others need him to be: the perfect son, the perfect friend, the perfect student. But he always has doubts ‘am I enough ?’, ‘am I doing enough ?', ‘will they like me ? ’, ‘what if they don’t ? what if they hate me ?’ He needs to be reassured that he is. He is enough, he is more than enough. 
I feel like it would be more prominent while he is intimate with you. He is mostly afraid of not living up to the expectation he thinks you have of him. So you make sure he knows that he makes you literally touch the sky.
‘That was the best match i’ve ever watched ! Merlin, you were brilliant on that broom James’ after Gryffindor wins the last match of the year.
‘What do you mean ‘stupid’ ? They’re your glasses baby, they help you see. And you look really hot wearing them in my opinion’ after he overhears someone talking about another person and saying they look stupid with that specific pair of glasses.
‘Like that, baby. You’re doing so good’ while he is covering your neck with kisses and gentle bites.
‘Yes, yes, fuck, right there Jamie’ after a particularly deep and strong thrust leaves you breathless.
‘You look so good between my legs, love’ while he is eating you out messily and hungrily and so, so perfectly.
‘No one feels as good as you. No one could ever make me feel the way you do, James’ while he is still inside of you, catching his breath and looking at you with devotion.
‘Are you sure it was ok ?’
‘James, it was more than ok. My legs are shaking baby, that's a sign that it was pretty damn amazing’
‘Are you serious ?’
‘Apart from the very lame joke I am sure you’re thinking about, yes, I am. Actually, why don’t I show you how serious I really am ?’
‘What do you mean, baby?’
‘I mean that you’re gonna fuck me again and i’ll show you how much I always crave your lips, then a third time and i’ll make sure the entire castle hears how you can make me cry with just your tongue, then a fourth because that perfect dick of yours needs to be fucking worshipped, and, finally, a fifth to show you that you fuck me so good that not a single coherent thought processes in my head when you're taking me apart on your cock, Jamie’ 
Remus would have one because he has hated himself his whole life. He feels like a monster, like he doesn’t deserve all the love he is surrounded by, like all the good things people say about him are just lies. And he knows the truth, he knows he is nothing but an horrid creature and that he doesn’t deserve to be loved. Except that it isn’t the truth, and you tell him everyday.
With him I feel like it would be more out of the bedroom, and outside of sex, but not exclusively.
‘You’re really good at that spell Remus, mind showing me how it’s done ?’ after he gets a rather difficult charm right at the first try.
‘You look very hot today, Rem. Well, you look hot everyday actually’ which makes him blush from head to toes.
‘You’re the best, you know ? You really are’ after he explains a difficult concept that nobody else got, but him.
‘Holy hell, right there Remus. You feel way too good’ while he eases in and out of you with a steady rhythm, knocking the air out of your lungs.
‘You take such good care of me’ while he is going down on you, slowly, sensually and with a glint of hunger in his eyes, knowing exactly what to do to make you fall apart.
‘I love you, you know that right ?’
‘Yes, darling. You tell me everyday’ 
‘Well, that’s not enough. From now on, I'll tell you twice a day’
‘But why ?’
‘Because it’s true' and then you give him the sweetest kiss.
Sirius would have one because he has been told his whole life that he wasn’t enough. That he needed to be better, to do better, to be a better heir for the Noble House of Black, to be a better son, to be a better brother. He was told that he was worthless, that his parents had no use in having a son like him. He was a disappointment, a shame to the family. For them he didn’t exist anymore.
But for you he was the most perfect person to ever walk on earth. Your brightest star.
He would love it both inside and outside the bedroom. I feel like he would also ask you to tell him something that makes him feel good, especially when he is having a bad day. He has no problem being praised in public, but he becomes especially vulnerable when you’re intimate because he can finally let go.
‘Tell me what did I do to have the best boyfriend ever ?’ After he brings you flowers one day because he told you they reminded them of you.
‘It’s ok Sirius, you’ll get it eventually. You’re one of the best students, you just need a bit more time which is totally fine’ after the tenth time he tries to get one of the most difficult spells right, only for it to go wrong.
‘You’re worth it Sirius. You’re worth every single good thing that happens to you, never doubt that’ after he breaks down reading one of his mothers older letters, full of foul words directed at him.
‘You’re such a good boy, aren’t you ?’ after he listens to you so well, kissing every inch of your body.
‘Fuck, you should see yourself baby. You look so good, so perfect for me’ while you’re on his lap, riding him slowly to savor that sultry fucked out expression on his face that makes you go feral.
‘You’re so sweet, Sirius, do you know that ? So fucking sweet’ after you bob your head on his length, swirling your tongue around his head to suck gently as his taste coats your mouth.
‘Was I good ?’
‘You’re always good, Sirius. More than’
‘Are you sure ?’
‘Do you want me to describe in detail how good you are at splitting me open in every position known to man ? Because I can do that if you want. Might take three whole days though, a week if you want me to talk about that sinful tongue of yours, too’
‘I think we have enough time’ and then you both start laughing.
Regulus would have one because he’s been second his whole life. Second for his brother, second for his parents before Sirius left , sometimes he feels second even for his friends. He thinks no one cares deeply about him, he’s just there as a rebound. He’s never been anyone’s first choice, and he thinks he never will be.
You make sure he knows that not only he would be your first choice in every lifetime, but that he would also be the only choice for you, no one else would or could ever compare. He is the center of your universe after all.
I feel like he would blush like crazy and pretend he is annoyed by your words when you’re in public and you praise him even for the simplest thing, but his eyes would also warm up a little, just for a second, before going back to his blank and rather stoic expression. He would be a mess in the bedroom though, when he can finally let go and he allows himself to feel good about the sweet words that leave your lips.
‘You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen’ after he catches you staring at him for a moment too long.
‘Your poems are literally art, Regulus. I can’t believe you can write like this, you know this is pure talent, right ?’ after he shows you his poems for the first time and you nearly cry because more than half of them are dedicated to you.
‘You were so good up there, Reggie. And the way you caught the Snitch ? Fucking incredible. You are incredible’ after Slytherin wins one of the biggest matches of the season thanks to Regulus catching the Snitch one minute from the end.
‘You feel so good, love. Stretching me out so well’ after his cock slides inside of you perfectly, filling you up so nicely.
‘Eyes on me, Regulus. They’re so gorgeous, I want them focused me while I make you cum, ok ? Be good and keep them open’ as you stroke his length up and down, feeling the velvety soft skin on your palm as you give his head a gentle suck, tasting him on your tongue.
‘You’re so pretty when you’re all fucked out, Reggie. You feel so good taking me like this’ while you’re riding him and he looks at you with hazy eyes, lust and pure bliss fogging his brain’
‘I’m yours Regulus. I’m undoubtedly, irrevocably and utterly yours’
‘Promise me’
‘I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me forever, actually’
‘Mmh, it’s gonna be hard, but I’ll survive I guess’ while you’re still joined, one body and one soul as you kiss him slowly and sweetly, his tone sarcastic but betrayed by the smile that's progressively growing on his lips.
Barty would have one because his father never gave him his attention. He was never enough for him, never a good son, never a good student, never good. He was constantly ignored, and the few times his father acknowledged him was to tell him that he was a lost cause, a disgrace, a shame. He was just a stupid boy, too reckless, too careless, too unhinged, too much, and, at the same time, never enough. But it wasn’t like that. He was a bit impulsive, and sometimes he went a little bonkers, but he was a good person, and there were people who cared about him and his well being. You always made sure he knew that. He was your priority.
I have a feeling that he would be completely unashamed of being praised in public exactly like he is praised in the bedroom. Probably not in front of the whole school, but he wouldn't really care if people eavesdropped, his crooked grin widening when he notices their horrified faces. It is  their fault, they could mind their own damn business.
‘Yes, Barty, you’ve been a good boy’ after he asks you if he has been good after getting an O in Potions.
‘Baby, we’re in public, I can’t just scream about how good you fuck me. There are people eating, for Merlin’s sake’ after he sees a guy talking to you before sitting at the table in the Great Hall. He asks you if you could tell him that he is the only one who could make you come with just his skilled fingers.
‘Don’t think like that ever again, Barty. You are not a lost cause, you aren't. You deserve good things, you deserve the best things, sweetie. You deserve to be loved, and I do. I love you so much Barty, don’t ever think you are not important to me because you are. You mean the world to me’ after he receives a letter from his father asking how a cretin like him was able to find someone who could love him. If he hadn’t begged you to stop after calming down a little you would’ve been in Azkaban with a murder charge by now.
‘Fuck, I love when you do that. Feels amazing, baby’ after he trails a path of kisses down your chest only to focus on the tender flesh of your nipple as he sucks gently, and grazes it with his teeth, teasing you.
‘Harder, baby. I know you like it like this’ while his thrusts become more erratic, stronger and deeper and you can hardly think.
‘You’re cock is perfect, Barty. Fills my mouth so nicely’ while you’re sucking him off, his tip hits your throat and you swallow as the loudest moan leaves his mouth.
‘I told Mulciber that no one can make you scream as loud as I do’
‘You did what ?! Barty !’
‘What ? Is it not true ?’
‘I- of course it’s true, but why did you have to tell him ?’
‘He was being rather cocky about the fact that he could make you scream like, and I quote ‘a bitch’. Then he started using other very disrespectful words to describe you baby, and at that point I had to punch him right in the face, because no one has to even dare to talk about you like that. He is actually lucky my Sectumsempra is not perfect yet, or he would’ve ended way worse. And then I added that little detail. I probably shouldn’t have done it, but I was furious. Do you want me to obliviate him ? I can do that if you want’
‘It’s fine, he needs some salt rubbed on his wounds’
‘Are you sure ?’
‘Yes, baby. And it’s nothing new, I'm sure the entire dorm hears me when you’re fucking me, I can't help it. Now come on my knight in bloody knuckles, let’s go to Madame Pomfrey to get those bruises checked’ you kiss him lightly before heading to the infirmary.
Thanks for coming to my Ted talk 🤭
And thank you for reading 💖
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diamonddaze01 · 1 month ago
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Love: Best Served Hot
pairing: chef! kmg x gn!reader genre: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, slice of life wc: 2.7k
summary: even when he’s exhausted, mingyu wants to care for you. 
a/n: this was supposed to be a 300 word drabble idk what happened // i love chef mingoo!!
The door creaks open, releasing a gust of chilly air that carries with it the rich, savory aroma of sautéed garlic and fresh spices. The warm glow of the kitchen lights flicker to life as Mingyu steps inside, his cheeks flushed from the cold and his hair slightly tousled from a long shift. He kicks off his shoes, leaving them haphazardly by the door, and stretches his arms overhead, letting out a dramatic sigh that echoes through the apartment.
“Guess who’s here to save your taste buds!” he announces, though the weariness in his eyes and the slight slump of his shoulders tells a different story.
You look up from your phone, a grin spreading across your face. “Don’t you ever get tired of cooking, Gyu?” you tease, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed, the familiar warmth of the kitchen enveloping you.
He feigns offense, placing a hand on his chest as if you’ve just insulted his entire culinary career. “For you? Never. I’m making you gourmet ramen from scratch. The kind that makes you forget your ex. Trust me; it’s a glow-up for your palate.”
“You said that yesterday about the ribs,” you point out, watching him glide across the kitchen with practiced ease. The overhead lights cast a soft halo around his figure, and the way his hair flops into his eyes adds an adorable charm to his focused expression. “And the kimchi jjigae last week, and the burgers the time before that.”
“Shhhh.” He reaches around you for a cutting board, dropping a soft kiss on your lips to silence you. The warmth of his lips lingers as he pulls back, a playful spark in his eyes. “I’ve never met someone who complains so much about getting wined and dined.”
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms with a mock pout. “I’m not complaining; I’m just keeping you accountable. I need to know if your cooking is really as good as you claim.”
Mingyu laughs, a rich, warm sound that fills the kitchen and dances around you; it makes your heart sing a little, like a schoolgirl with a crush. “If you’re so worried about it, maybe you should just let me cook in peace.”
As he focuses on the task at hand, the slight sheen of sweat forming on his brow catches the kitchen's light, his movements slowing just a fraction. His fingers are steady but the small tremor in his hands gives away just how long he's been on his feet. He brushes his hair back with a frustrated tug, eyes closing briefly as if savoring a second of relief before diving back into the task. It’s in these small, unguarded moments you realize just how worn he is—the dark circles under his eyes, the set of his shoulders that normally stand so proud, now sagging ever so slightly. But even through the exhaustion, there’s a determination in him, the same kind you’ve come to recognize every time he puts your needs before his own.
“Hey,” you say, your voice softening. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a break? You’ve been on your feet for hours.”
He glances over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. “And what, exactly, have you eaten today, hmm?”
“Uh…” You falter, feeling a familiar flush of embarrassment creeping in.
“Here, let me help you.” He sets down the knife and taps his foot expectantly, whisk in hand. “Knowing you, you probably just subsisted on iced lattes all day because you were too busy to get a real meal, right?”
You huff, your indignation flaring. “I’ll have you know that I had a Pop-Tart and a bag of Skittles! Those are major food groups, you know.”
Mingyu bursts into laughter, but you catch a glimpse of concern flickering behind his playful facade. “Riiiiight,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “So now, you’re going to shut up and watch your gorgeous, incredibly talented, hot chef boyfriend make you a meal that has an actual vegetable in it.”
He gets like this sometimes, when he's frustrated that you don't take care of yourself. It’s been a cause for many an argument in the past—his insistence that you need to eat and your stubbornness that you know how to take care of yourself. Those conversations often swirl around the kitchen like a storm, but there’s a gentleness in the way he brushes off your concerns that tells you he cares deeply, even if he masks it with humor.
You watch him chop vegetables, let yourself get lulled into dreamlike trance with the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board. He moves with precision, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration as he glances over to check your expression. His dedication tugs at your heartstrings, a reminder of how he loves: by placing food in front of you even when he’s on the brink of falling asleep standing up. You’ve learned that his love language isn’t just about the meals he makes; it’s in the way he basks in the glow of your compliments, how your smile lights up his tired eyes like a spark in the dark.
You take a step closer, your fingers absentmindedly grazing the cool countertop, the warmth of the kitchen offering little comfort against the concern gnawing at you. It’s moments like these that make your heart ache —the way he pushes himself, never stopping until he’s done taking care of everyone else, even when he should be the one resting. A small, tight knot forms in your chest as you watch him, the way his brow furrows with each precise chop, his body moving with a practiced ease that can’t fully mask the heaviness of his fatigue. You wish you could stop him, take over for once, but you know he wouldn’t allow it. Still, you try to lighten the mood. 
“You know, you could just let me make dinner once in a while,” you offer, though your voice softens with unspoken worry.
He shakes his head, a grin breaking through his feigned annoyance. “And ruin my masterpiece? Never.”
The way he leans into the task, the sheer determination on his face, makes you fall in love with him a little more each day. It’s not just the food—it’s the way he pours his heart into everything he does, even when it means sacrificing his own comfort for yours. You can see it in the way his shoulders relax when you compliment his cooking, how he laughs more easily when you’re around, and how the corners of his eyes crinkle with joy when you taste something he’s prepared.
“I just want you to eat something real, not just sugar and caffeine,” he continues, a hint of worry creeping into his tone, finally letting his humorous facade fall for a second.  “I can’t have you turning into a human-sized Skittle.”
You can’t help but laugh at the image, feeling the tension of the day slip away. “I’ll have you know that I’d be a delicious  human-sized Skittle, thank you very much.”
He rolls his eyes playfully but then yawns again, the gesture drawing your concern back to the surface. “See? That right there—no more yawning until you’ve eaten something substantial, got it?”
He feigns a mock salute, but you can see the hint of exhaustion etched across his features. “Okay, okay, Captain Concerned. I promise I’ll eat something as soon as this ramen is ready. Just… give me a minute.”
You nod, the sincerity behind his words warming you. As he stirs the bubbling broth, you can’t help but admire the way his brow furrows in concentration, how he occasionally glances your way to ensure you’re still there, still watching.
“Alright, but you’d better not fall asleep in front of the stove,” you tease gently, your voice light but your heart heavy with concern.
He nods, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. “No promises,” he retorts playfully, but the warmth in his gaze tells you that he appreciates your worry, even if he’d never admit it outright.
“Just keep your gorgeous, incredibly talented hot chef boyfriend awake, alright?” he says, a teasing lilt returning to his voice.
You can’t help but smile, feeling your affection for him grow in the warmth of the kitchen, surrounded by the scents of his hard work. “Deal. But you’d better make that ramen quick, or I might just have to find a way to fuel you with caffeine and Skittles.”
The kitchen hums with quiet, the only sounds coming from the bubbling broth and the soft scrape of Mingyu’s knife on the cutting board. You don’t need to fill the space with conversation; just being there, your silent presence, is enough. It’s always been enough for him. After a long day of being barked at on the line, of rushing orders and chaos, this is what he craves—your calm support, your quiet companionship. You don’t need to ask him how his day was; the tension in his shoulders, the way he brushes his hair back in frustration, tells you everything.
You watch as he works, each movement slow but precise, his exhaustion barely hidden beneath the surface. And still, even in his fatigue, there’s a quiet grace in how he prepares your meal—chopping vegetables, whisking broth, his fingers moving with the kind of ease that only comes from years of practice. He flicks the pan to stir the ingredients and adds garnish with a flourish—and looks over at you for validation.
Even though you’ve seen him do this hundreds of times, you still smile when he meets your eyes.  It’s a dance you’ve perfected: him cooking, you watching, the back-and-forth that fills the space between you. It’s more than just food—it's the way he pours himself into each meal, hoping to see that spark of happiness in your eyes, that subtle nod of approval that tells him, once again, that he's done well, that you love what he’s made. And it never fails—you always smile, and in that moment, it’s like he’s won an award.
“That was slick,” you murmur with a grin, watching his tired eyes light up like you’ve just given him a standing ovation. 
In return, he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, gentle and warm. “Only for you,” he whispers, but you know it’s true. It’s in the way he offers you spoonfuls of broth to taste, holding the spoon up to your lips, watching carefully for your reaction. When you hum in satisfaction, the tension in his shoulders eases, his tiredness momentarily forgotten.
Every compliment you give is met with a kiss—sometimes on your lips, sometimes on your nose, sometimes just a gentle press to your forehead. You know that this is his love language, this silent back-and-forth of care, and it’s how you love him, too. Just being here, watching him, letting him unwind at his own pace. You don’t need to talk for him to know you’re there, supporting him. He knows you’re here, watching him, feeling the weight of his exhaustion, without needing to say it. It’s in the way you linger nearby, always close but never overbearing, allowing him to move at his own pace. Sometimes, just your presence is enough to ease the weight of the world on his shoulders, the sound of your breathing in sync with his, the gentle hum of the kitchen filling the gaps. 
You sit at the counter, content to let him work in silence, knowing he’ll fuss if you hover too much. But, true to form, he turns around every now and then, his eyes narrowing like he’s assessing the situation. “You’re going to eat, too, right? Not just stare at me?”
“Obviously,” you tease, though the warmth in your chest says otherwise. He’s tired, you can see it in the way he brushes his hair back, but still, his concern is always you—making sure you’ve eaten something other than sugar and caffeine all day. “I had a Pop-Tart, remember? And Skittles,” you add.
He rolls his eyes, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Yes, of course, the epitome of gourmet food. You need actual food, not whatever sugar rush you’ve been riding on.” There’s a playful tilt to his voice, but beneath it, the care is genuine, the worry etched into his furrowed brow. He doesn’t have to say it, but you can feel it in every movement, in the way he insists on feeding you something real, even when he’s on the brink of exhaustion.
When the ramen is finally done, the kitchen smells like a cozy hug, and he brings the steaming bowl over with a satisfied smile, his usual swagger dimmed slightly by the long hours he's endured. But instead of sitting down at the table, you slide onto his lap. His arms wrap around your waist without hesitation, pulling you closer, his body melting against yours in a sigh that carries all the weight of the day. You can feel the tension leave his shoulders, the stress ebbing away as you press yourself against him. 
“Eat,baby,” he murmurs, pushing the bowl toward you. But when you don’t immediately take a bite, he reaches for the chopsticks, bringing the noodles to your lips himself.
You chuckle softly, but he’s serious, his eyes fixed on you as you take the first bite. “Good?” he asks, as if he isn’t already sure of the answer.
You nod, chewing slowly, savoring the warmth that spreads through you. “Perfect.”
Satisfied, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, but before he can relax completely, you grab the chopsticks from his hand and lift a bite of ramen to his lips. “Your turn,” you say, watching as his expression softens.
He laughs under his breath but doesn’t protest, taking the bite with a small nod of approval. “Good,” he hums, his voice lower now, sleepier. But as tired as he is, he still won’t stop fussing, making sure you take another bite, and another, before he lets himself have one too.
The silence between you is comfortable, filled only by the occasional murmur of approval or the clink of chopsticks against the bowl. Every time you compliment the ramen, he preens a little, leaning in to press another kiss to your cheek, your nose, your lips. And with every bite, you fall a little more in love—not with the food, but with him, with the way he cares for you in the smallest, quietest ways. Even when he’s exhausted, even when he should be the one resting, he’s still making sure you’re taken care of, that you’ve eaten, that you’re loved. And that’s how you know he loves you—because he can’t help but put you first, even when his eyes are heavy with sleep.
You sit there, nestled in his lap, feeding him and being fed, the two of you wrapped up in the warmth of the kitchen. This is how you love him—by just being here, letting him rest in the silence, your presence enough to soothe him after a long day. And in return, his way of loving you is by feeding you, taking care of you even when he’s exhausted. No words are needed; the quiet between you speaks volumes.
“You don’t have to always do this, you know,” you whisper, your fingers gently tracing the edge of the bowl. The ramen is long gone, and he’s running his fingers up your arm, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “Take care of me, I mean.”
Mingyu’s chuckle rumbles in his chest, the vibration sending a warm ripple through your body. “It’s not about having to. I want to,” he says simply, his voice low and sincere. “Besides, you’re terrible at taking care of yourself. Someone has to make sure you eat.”
You can’t help but laugh, even though you feel a lump forming in your throat. His love is always like this—quiet, unspoken, wrapped in the warmth of small actions rather than big words. It’s in the way he insists on feeding you, the way he pulls you closer when he’s tired but still makes sure you’re taken care of.
“I love you,” you whisper, almost instinctively, the words slipping out before you even realize.
He doesn’t respond right away, but you can feel his grip tighten ever so slightly, his arms drawing you closer as if he’s pulling you into the very core of him. Then, softly, so softly you almost miss it, he presses a kiss to your hair and murmurs, “I love you, too.”
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so-much-for-the-seashells · 4 months ago
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The Fun Kind of Sparring
Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader
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Minors do ¡NOT! interact. This is not for you.
A/N: I haven’t seen the Boys and won’t BUTT that finale, amirite??? So in honor of the glorious return of Jensen Ackles, maybe the finest man who’s ever existed- seriously, when the aliens invade, show them him and they’ll be besotted by his beauty- I wrote this for all y’all SB lovers. Just note that I do not endorse any of this man’s actions, and if you do… the fuck?
I think it goes without saying but this is not my picture, it belongs to EW. (Too tired to make icons 💪)
Anyways, icons by me and all interaction-especially commentary- is appreciated!
Content/Content Warning: straight filth. The mouth on this man is crazy. Diddle that skittle.
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It really had just been sparring. A little one on one, if you will. Me and Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy and me.
If it were anyone else, being pinned down to the ground would be the opposite of erotic. It would be annoying, and I’d be flailing around, trying to hit my partner in the balls.
But with Soldier Boy? We’d been skirting around each other since The Boys broke him out. Well, that’s a lie. I’ve been skirting around him, he’s made it more than a little obvious that he’s into me. I don’t know if it’s that he just wants a quick lay or what, but because I’m unfortunately attracted to him, I don’t really care.
Especially right now, when I’m pinned under him on the gym mat.
“Y’know, we shouldn’t do this,” I stall, no meaning behind my words.
“Sure, sweetheart,” he humors me. His lips are mere inches away from mine, his hair falling against my forehead. And I think I’m drunk on the scent of his pungent aftershave.
“I mean, you’re like, what, 103?” I ponder aloud, trying to distract myself from the fact that the Soldier Boy is rested over me in a plank, shirtless. That I can feel his warm breath on my face. That it smells like peppermints.
“104, actually, sweets,” he corrects. He’s had this shot-eating grin plastered on his face since he managed to wrestle me down, because like me, he knows exactly how this is going to end. But unlike me, he’s not remotely hesitant about showing it. And because he’s a jerk, he’s making me make the first move. But I’m not ready quite yet.
“104, right,” I mutter. “Older than my grandpa.”
“Smart girl,” he just goes along with everything I’m saying, letting me stall. The mischievous glint in his emerald colored eyes never ceases.
I nod slowly. “You are a very attractive grandpa,” I state, my tone far away as if I’m talking about him while he isn’t on top of me. Ohhh do I want him on top. You know what I mean.
“Thanks, sugar. But I think I’d prefer ‘Daddy’ if we’re going for the titles,” he says cheekily, still making no moves. I on the other hand am blushing the brightest red. Between the nicknames and Daddy, it’s too much to handle.
“O-oh,” I stutter, swallowing thickly. “Noted. But, uh, aren’t you more into… more mature women?”
“I believe all women are mature. I don’t discriminate, sweets,” he says, his shit-eating grin somehow eating more shit.
“Very feminist of you,” I say sarcastically.
“Damn straight,” he agrees.
I bite my lower lip. “You’re very experienced, right?”
“Not to toot my own horn or anything, but yes, I’d say so,” I can tell that he can tell that I can tell that this is volatile, just moments from going somewhere.
“Okay, so I guess my last question is this: how would you go about it. Y’know? With someone that you hypothetically wouldn’t treat as someone you paid for? That you’re sort of friends with?” I have to know. I’m too nervous for him not to lay it out plain and simple for me, I need to mentally prepare myself.
“Well, firstly, I think I’d have to know my girl likes it,” he gives me a pointed look.
“Your hypothetical girl,” I correct.
“Sure, my hypothetical girl,” he agrees. How has he not broken a single sweat this entire time? He’s been in a plank over me for the last however long it’s been and it doesn’t even affect him??
Quit getting distracted.
“Maybe she likes it rough. She wants to feel it for a few days,” I suggest, feeling my stomach knot at the notion. I’d been consistently growing wetter since he put me under him, and my arousal shows no signs of stopping.
“Okay, so I’d give it to her rough. Work her up until she’s begging for it… maybe I’ll- I mean, I’d- use my mouth first, taste her pretty pussy before I get my dick wet.” It’s all I can do not to moan at the dirty words falling out of his plush lips. Not to mention his honeyed transatlantic 50s accent… I’m so fucked. In so many ways. “Probably get her to come at least once, cause I’m sure she tastes as sweet as she looks.”
“Uh huh,” I mumble, the sound coming out higher than it should as I look at him with wide, attentive eyes.
“Don’t get me wrong, even before then I’d be marking her up and down. So that way everyone can see who made her feel so good, who got her walking so funny,” he backtracks. And again, the notion is far too good to be true. But the promise in his voice? It’s real. “I’d have to get her ready for my cock, stretch her out with my fingers. Start with one, but she’d be so wet that that wouldn’t even do anything. She’d be begging for more if I just did two, so I’ll give her three, make that needy cunt happy,” he muses. And it’s so, so erotic. And I’m ready to just lean up and kiss him, make him do all the things he says. But I’m captivated by his words, his narration- I think I could come from it alone. “I don’t know if I’d let her come again then. Because I think she’d be begging for my dick with how good my fingers feel stuffed in her tight pussy.”
Mother. Fucking. Hell. Oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He shouldn’t be real. These words should be banned from his vocabulary, because I am on fire right now.
“Where do you think this hypothetical girl would want me to come?” he asks out of curiosity, smirking. Probably at the way I’m looking at him like a bitch in heat.
“In her,” I mumble.
“In her where?” he asks smugly, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it.
“Ben,” I whine in protest.
“Oh, c’mon, tell me,” he chides. “For the sake of the story.”
“In my-her-pussy,” I answer in a breathy whisper.
“Good girl,” he praises, and it’s all I can do not to keen. I have to be soaked through my shorts by now, there’s no way. “Well, what I’d do next… that’s simple. I’d fuck her until she cried, and then I’d keep going. And I’d keep going until the only thing she can remember is my name, until she’s gooey and clingy and a sweet little fucked out thing, all for me,” he finishes, his grin from before returning back to his face. I’m losing it. I can’t think straight. And yet- he’s still waiting for me to make the first move. Son of a bitch.
“O-okay,” I clear my throat, unable to find my senses. “And if that hypothetical girl was me?” We both know it’s me, I just need to hear it.
“Well in that case I think I’d be the luckiest bastard who ever lived,” he says sincerely, looking at me with a gaze that can only be described as pure adoration and lust. Yep. That’s it for me. I lean up and kiss him with as much force as I can muster.
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In the meantime… want more Soldier Boy?? Try Taming The Supe <3
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roosterforme · 7 months ago
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The Younger Kind Part 60 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Your bachelorette outing and Bradley's bachelor party are both hosted by the same person, but they couldn't be more different. Spending an evening at home with Noah is reminiscent of your babysitting days, but now he's asking you some pertinent questions.
Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, drinking, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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Natasha was outside in her SUV on the driveway, ready to pick you up for your bachelorette outing. You refused to call it a bachelorette party since it was just the two of you going out for the evening, but Bradley made sure his best friend knew to spare no expense when it came to anything you wanted.
"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body. "I'll be home in a few hours."
He grunted softly, kissing you a little deeper before releasing your lips. "We'll still miss you," he murmured, letting his hands roam along your hips while Noah sat on the area rug and worked on one of the new coloring books you picked up for him. "And don't overdo it." When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst."
You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."
It would have been impossible to dispute that fact. She was the one who took care of you when Bradley wasn't stateside. "Go have fun."
"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, popping up to give you a hug when Bradley released you. He scooped his son up since he didn't want you lifting anything, and you gave Noah a kiss on the forehead.
"Have fun with Daddy," you told him, kissing him once more before heading outside to Nat's idling SUV. 
Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?"
"Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?"
His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."
Bradley took him back inside, and they ended up stretched out on the floor together. Noah continued with his masterpiece while Bradley started searching for options on his phone. After a few minutes, he found an independent shop that made coloring books with different themes based on photos that you send to them. "Do you like this?" he asked his son, holding up his phone.
Noah looked at the sample pages as Bradley scrolled through them. He nodded and said, "Mommy is prettier than that."
"She absolutely is," Bradley replied as he realized the wedding was in a week and didn't know if a custom book could even be completed in that short amount of time. "Let me see if we can get something like this for her. If not, we can always save it for her birthday."
His son started to pout at the mere mention of having to wait longer for it, so Bradley started typing up a message to the owner of the shop, hoping that he'd be able to explain that it was for his wedding. Once that was done, he checked the time and asked, "Do you need a snack before dinner?"
"Ants on logs," Noah replied without missing a beat. Bradley had no problem with the healthy snacks you somehow tricked the two of them into eating, but he was always told he never got the peanut butter proportions right.
"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-"
"Mommy left some in the fridge."
Bradley chuckled as he stood up, coaxing Noah to abandon his coloring project for the time being. "Of course she did. She's the best." Somehow even when you weren't here, you had everything covered.
-----------------------------
"Okay, so if you could ditch Bradley and marry a celebrity, who would you pick?"
You burst out laughing in the pedicure chair next to Natasha with your hands resting on the roundest part of your belly. "Who said I would? Even if I could?" She gave you a look followed by an eye roll before you said, "You'll laugh at me, so I don't even want to say my answer."
"Just say it," she prompted as you dragged your foot through the warm water.
You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors."
Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"
You thought back to all the time you wasted with Greyson and other guys your age and grimaced. "I don't think that was always my type. It's a more recent development, and I'm not mad about it." You moved your hand on your belly and added, "Boy suck. Men are at least marginally better."
"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."
"Mostly because he has Noah," you told her, and then both of you were laughing.
After your nails were painted a vibrant purple, Natasha took you out for dinner and let you eat until you were full. You could tell your body and appetite were changing by the day, but you refused to feel self conscious about it in front of her. The two of you were sharing a slice of cake for dessert when you said, "He really did plan almost everything for the wedding. All I did was help him pick out matching suits for him and Noah to wear. And I picked out some flowers and my dress, but that's it."
Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."
You felt silly telling her what was on your mind, but you said it anyway. "He pays my credit card bill. Not that I spend a lot! I try not to! I usually just buy groceries and things for Noah." She nodded like your words weren't as startling as you thought they were. "I kind of wanted to surprise him as a thank you, but if I buy something, he'll see it on the credit card statement."
Maybe you should have been wary of the smirk that found its way to her lips when Natasha said, "What if I rally the boys one night this week and take him out for a little bachelor party?"
"Oh," you said softly. "You'd do that? Just something lowkey?"
"Super lowkey," she agreed with a nod.
You could easily imagine them going to Top Golf or out for some drinks. "I think he might really like that."
"Or.... and just hear me out," she said, holding up her hands innocently after handing her credit card to the waiter. "Or, you let me absolutely roast him for the night."
You studied her face; how bad could it be? She was Bradley's best friend after all. Even if she was giving him a hard time, she'd probably make it fun. "What did you have in mind?" you asked as the two of you left the restaurant and headed for the pottery boutique down the block.
"A few things I'm going to need your approval for," she replied casually. And while you worked on making yourself a mug that said Noah's Mommy, you listened to Natasha's not-so-lowkey plans for Thursday night. By the time your mug actually looked like a mug, you gave her full approval.
"I almost feel bad about this," you told her with a laugh.
"I don't."
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The following evening after Noah was in bed, Bradley set you up for a nice shower while he cleaned up the kitchen from the chicken enchiladas you made for dinner. When Nat called him, he held his phone to his shoulder with his cheek and kept working.
He answered the call and asked, "Hey, what's up?"
"Your bachelor party with me and the guys starts at six o'clock on Thursday evening."
He laughed in response. "It's funny that this is the first time I'm hearing about it."
Bradley could practically feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "Just be ready to go."
"Ready for what?" he asked, knowing better than to just trust her with this. The dating app was one thing, and that had turned out great in the end, but he wasn't going to blindly go with her on this.
"Uhhh... just some stuff."
"Natasha."
"Bradley."
"What did you do?"
There was a brief pause before she said, "Just be ready for dinner, booze and some strippers."
With a deep sigh, Bradley closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to have to check with my wife-to-be about the strippers, Nat." You had to know by now that you had nothing to worry about, and he wasn't even all that keen on going to a strip club, but he didn't want you to be upset.
"She knows the plan."
He froze as he loaded the dishwasher. "She does?"
Natasha laughed, and Bradley swore he felt his skin crawl. "She does. Be ready for six o'clock on Thursday."
"We have work on Friday-" 
She already ended the call. Bradley finished cleaning up when he heard you getting out of the shower. "God damn it, Nat," he muttered as he turned off the kitchen lights and made his way back to the bedroom where you were all wrapped up in a towel.
"Hi, Daddy."
He groaned at your words and your little smirk. "Hey, Baby. Can we talk for a minute?"
Your eyebrows shot up as you held your towel around you a little tighter. "What's wrong? Is it something about the wedding? Did the marriage license not go through? We only have six days."
"No, no," he promised, reaching for you. "It's not that. It's... I just got off the phone. With Nat."
You looked relieved as you leaned against him. "Good. I was worried for a second."
Bradley didn't quite know how to approach this topic now that he was here. Natasha would be as tenacious as a junkyard dog about her plans, so he had to say something. "You don't have anything to worry about."
You laughed softly. "That sounds nice."
He cleared his throat and said, "Nat called about my bachelor party night?" 
It came out more like a question than a statement, but you just nodded and said, "Dinner and drinks and the strip club."
"Yeah," he rasped. "You approved this whole thing?"
"Mmhmm. To be fair, it was all her idea. I just told her it was okay."
Bradley tipped your chin so you were looking up at him, your face fresh and perfect after your shower. "If this plan is not okay with you, then I'm not going."
"It's okay with me," you replied easily. "I trust you."
He studied your face. "I feel like I'm going to end up babysitting everyone on a work night. Two days before the wedding."
You snorted in response. "You'll have fun. And so will everyone else. You should go."
"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."
You didn't stop him when he slowly tugged your towel from your fingers and pulled it open. And yeah, your tits looked perfect, but so did the swell of your pregnant belly and your soft skin. He was hard as soon as the towel hit the floor. 
"Daddy," you whined softly, shivering in his arms. It was December, and the nights were chilly in San Diego; you had taken to snuggling with him even more than usual in your sleep. "Now you need to warm me up."
"My pleasure," he replied, scooping you up and dropping you carefully onto the king sized bed that you picked out for the room. "Let me start right here," he whispered before he kissed you softly, covering your body gently with his. "Feeling warmer?"
You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs wider so he was nestled against your pussy, his cock straining against his jeans zipper. "A little bit," you whispered innocently. 
Bradley smirked, and when he brought his hand up to stroke your breast, he said, "I told you, I got these perfect tits right here."
"Bradley," you giggled as his fingers skimmed along your skin, but when he stroked his thumb across your tightly furled nipple, you arched your back and made a raspy gasping sound. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. "Oh my god," you moaned.
"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his hand away, but you were already nodding vigorously. 
"It felt really good." The words rushed right from your lips as you rolled your hips up to meet his. "Different, I guess. I can't explain it."
When he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and index finger, he smirked. You were instantly squirming and moaning, reaching for his zipper with one hand and his hair with the other. Your eyes were wild even though he was being gentle, and he dipped his head down to whisper in your ear. "You're extra sensitive right now. It's the pregnancy hormones." He plucked and stroked as you started panting. "God damn, Princess. You like that?"
"Yes!" Your voice already sounded broken, and he'd barely touched you.
"Shh. Keep quiet like a good girl." But his words and hand seemed to have the opposite effect on you, because you just got louder. Bradley reached down to where you had his cock free from his zipper and pulled your hand up to his lips. He kissed your fingers before shoving them a little rough into your mouth. "You have to be quiet if you want me to play with you."
You moaned around your own fingers but nodded your head, and at least you were quieter now as Bradley kissed his way from your neck down to your tits. He didn't know how he was going to manage you when there were two kids in the house trying to sleep, but at the moment, he didn't really care. You were going to be his wife in a few short days. That thought alone had him bucking his cock against the bedding as he ran his mustache along your peaked nipple, inhaling your wildflower scent.
When he pulled your nipple into his mouth and sucked, he could tell your breasts were already a little bit bigger than before. Soon you'd be bigger everywhere. Getting even more sensitive by the day. He was painfully hard right now, listening to your muffled screams and tasting you. He licked and sucked until your tits were both damp from his mouth and overstimulated from his mustache. 
When you started bucking up, Bradley eased his hand down to cup your pussy and found that you were soaked. He couldn't remember Meredith getting quite like this as he dipped his middle finger into your slick and easing it down to your hole.
"Daddy," you gasped as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. "I'm going to come."
You looked shocked by your statement as you sank down around his finger. He could already feel your tight pussy fluttering around him as he whispered, "You want me to make it so good?"
His only answer was a whimper as you bit your lip, and he knew he'd make sure you were always taken care of in every way. Carefully, he added a second finger and started to circle your clit with his thumb. You were shaking a bit, your pretty tits bouncing softly as he ran his nose down the valley between your breasts. 
"Be a good girl. You know where to put those fingers, Princess," he coaxed, watching you slip them between your lips. Then he let you have his mouth on your tits again, while his hand worked at your pussy. He carefully drew a shaking orgasm out of you as you slobbered on your own fingers, not stopping until he was afraid you'd be too far gone soon.
"Daddy," you whined around your fingers as he ran his tongue flat across your nipple.
"Let me fuck you," he begged, realizing he was already close and needing to be inside you. "Please, Baby."
You reached for his cock and guided him home, and he fucked you with his jeans barely pulled down, coming inside you after just a few strokes. You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."
"Keep me warm all night, Daddy."
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As you sent Bradley off with Natasha, you shared a conspiratorial look with her. You only felt slightly bad for keeping the bachelor party plans to yourself, and ultimately it made you feel good when Bradley went out for the night in an old pair of jeans and an uninspired shirt. He didn't look the part of a man who wanted to try to dazzle some strippers, and you loved him for it. 
"Bye, Bub," he said, kneeling to kiss Noah where he stood at your side. "Be good for Mommy." Then he stood and kissed you deeply. "I won't be out late, okay?"
"Stay out as late as you want," you told him, running your fingers along his cheek as he pulled away from you. "Just don't have a hangover on Saturday."
He smiled and focused on your face even as Nat and the guys yelled at him from Javy's car in the driveway. "Our wedding day. It'll be perfect. Like you."
"Go," you told him with a laugh even as you had butterflies in your belly. "Have fun. We'll be here when you get home."
With one more kiss, he was off and jogging down the walkway. You watched him climb into the backseat, then they all waved at you as Javy backed out of the driveway with Natasha in the front seat. You were wondering how long it would be until Bradley called you to tell you he had in fact been taken to see a bunch of male strippers. The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.
But you didn't hear from them at all while you and Noah ate macaroni and cheese together. You still didn't hear a word as the two of you took Skittles for a short walk to look at Christmas lights. You even let Noah dip his hands in green paint to make a Christmas tree art project to hang on the refrigerator, but nobody called or texted you.
"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?"
You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry.
"Is it going to hurt?"
"Oh, Noah," you said with a surprised laugh, pulling him into your arms and holding him against his growing younger sibling. "Not at all! It won't feel like anything."
"Then why are you going to do it?" he asked, face muffled by your shoulder.
You soothed his back with your hand, considering his question. For all intents and purposes, you really were his mom. Bradley added you to his will; if anything happened to him, Noah was solely yours. "I kind of want to have a little piece of paper with an official signature that says we get to be together forever. Does that sound okay?"
"That's adoption?" he asked. 
"That's adoption."
"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a little shrug before climbing into bed. "Can I sleep with Skittles again?"
The pup appeared in the doorway, always excited to hear her name. "She can stay in here until Daddy gets home." You set the dog in bed with him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead as he yawned. "I love you."
"Love you, Mommy." He was half asleep as you turned on his night light and left the room. When you checked your phone, you smiled, having finally received the message you were waiting for. 
Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW
You were doubled over in laughter, holding your belly and trying not to wet yourself. Because he also sent a picture. All of the guys were lined up under the marquee sign, and you were pleased to see that they all looked like they were being good sports about the entire thing. Bradley was the only one who looked slightly mortified.
You texted back Go have fun, Daddy Bradshaw!
Natasha sent you some random photos as you got ready for bed. You were surprised Jake was there, given your history with him, but even he looked like he was having fun. You laughed at a picture of Bradley drinking something pink and blended, and then the photos stopped. 
You wondered what was going on, but you kept yourself busy. Bradley told you not to clean up, promising to take care of everything tomorrow night before the wedding in the backyard on Saturday afternoon. Since you had the time and the privacy, you tried on your wedding dress one last time, sliding the fabric along your legs and zipping it up your side. You grabbed your purple paper crown, which was looking a lot worse for the wear now, and set it on your head. 
When you looked in the mirror, you smiled. The dress fit like a dream and hugged your bump. The crown looked fun at the moment, but you wouldn't wear it on Saturday; you were pretty sure Bradley considered it a 'bedroom' item at this point anyway. Mostly, you looked happy. Like someone who was accepted in this perfect place. Like a woman who was needed here. And you needed the Bradshaw boys to be your family.
You wore the dress around for a few minutes before carefully unzipping it and getting ready for bed. It was late now, but you requested the day off tomorrow, and you wanted to see Bradley when he got home from his bachelor party. After you checked on Noah and Skittles, you curled up on the living room couch. 
Every time you stopped to think about the wedding, you got a little anxious. When you asked Bradley what he had planned for dinner for the reception, he just told you he had everything under control. He said all you had to do was show up with some sort of wedding vows, but he didn't tell you anything that he had planned. 
You dozed off on the couch, somehow still exhausted all the time, and you had no idea how late it was when you woke up to the sound of laughter and a key in the front door.
"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you."
"Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."
"Well, I know I had a great time tonight," Natasha cackled as she guided Bradley inside, and you stood up with your hand clasped over your mouth. He was a swaying mess, and he was holding a huge wad of cash and a bag from a convenience store.
"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.
"Hi, Daddy."
And then he was on you, so gentle in his overindulgence, it was almost surprising. He was looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with everything he was holding, trying to touch your belly.
"I'll see you on Saturday," Natasha said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, and then you were alone with him. 
"What's in the bag? Are why are you holding a roll of cash?" you asked as you guided him to the couch. 
He sat down hard and handed everything to you as you stood between his splayed legs. "The strippers were dudes. I made Nat and Javy stop so I could get you some Skittles. I'm really drunk. Can we get married soon?"
When you looked in the bag you found six packs of your favorite candy. "Wow, you must be very intoxicated if you bought a pack of Sour Skittles too."
"Did I?" he asked before stretching out on the couch. "Shit. I'll eat them. Come here."
You sat on the floor next to him and handed him the bag of Sour Skittles as you counted the nearly seven hundred dollars you were holding. "Bradley, where did this come from?" you asked in alarm.
But he just crunched on some of the candy in response. "Oh, these are fucking nasty. Baby, can we please get married?" he rambled, dumping more Skittles into his mouth.
You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Were getting married in like thirty-six hours. Now can you please tell me where you got this money from?"
"Huh?" he grunted like he'd never seen it before. "Oh. Oh, that." Then he casually dumped the rest of the Sour Skittles and chewed them up while you laughed and shook his arm.
"Bradley!"
He swallowed and dropped the wrapper on the floor before pulling you up onto the couch with him. "Jake got tips for stripping, and Nat made him give me the cash."
"I'm sorry, what?" you asked with in shock as you tried to settle into a comfortable position on him.
"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."
You couldn't stop laughing now. "But you got the cash?"
"Yeah," he said, eyes drifting closed as he propped his arm behind his head. "A wedding gift. For the honeymoon."
Just as you settled your head on his chest, you popped back up again. "Are we going on a honeymoon?" You started to feel a little apprehensive about going away for an extended trip without Noah while you were pregnant, but Bradley brought his big hand up to settle on your back as he snuggled in a little more.
"Next year. After the baby's born. Anywhere you want to go."
He really did kind of smell like Axe body spray, and he definitely needed to take a shower, but you let him hold you for a few minutes while he slept.
------------------------------
Part 61 will be their wedding! Thanks so much for reading and letting me share this family with you! We're almost to the finish line. Thanks @caitsymichelle13 for the request about the coloring book; stay tuned. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 61
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
@solacestyles
@daisyhollyxox
@wintercap89
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@chaoticassidy
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@shanimallina87
@little-wiseone
@ccbb2222
@xoxabs88xox
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@fanboyswhore9
@xomrsalliej4787xo
@desert-fern
@sylviebell
@wkndwlff
@horseslovers2016
@gennyanydots
@mattyskies
@hookslove1592
@blahehblah
@sadpetalsstuff
@local-spidey
@schoollover
@lex-winchester
@magicalmorg
@nicole01-23
@jessicab1991
@happyrebelruins
@samsgoddess
@ughthisisntright
@bellaireland1981
@sagittarius-flowerchild
@mygyn
@yuckosworld
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vainvenus · 8 months ago
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you could do a second part of the ff "eli x reader" (cobra Kai) in which Eli is targeted by Kyler (in the library as in the series) and the reader does something about it (like protect him and kiss him in front of everyone because Kyler has said “I don't know how -reader- I manage to kiss you). the first part was so cute🥹 sorry for my english it's not my language🫶🏻😭
⌲;꒰ Favorite Boy in the Valley. ꒱ ꒰ Pt.2 ꒱
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Pairing :: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader
Synopsis :: Kyler comes back to continue ridiculing Eli but luckily you're there
Includings :: Includings - S1!Eli no Hawk, established relationship, bullying, harassment, crying, cursing, threats, lots of PDA and just lots of fluff, short but sweet
An :: I'm so glad you liked the other one! I hope you like this one too ^^
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Since your talk with Eli things had been back to normal and just the way you had loved it.
Your movie nights continued, he started walking you to and from classes again and he didn't mind PDA as much. He held your hands in the hallway and accepted any kisses you gave to him despite the looks the two of you would sometimes get.
He started to care a little less what others were thinking of him after your talk. He realized that as long as he had you, it didn't really matter because that others thought.
Which was why he was open to picking back up your after school study dates in the library, offering to help you study and work on some of your late work in the library after school even though you kept getting distracted.
You had barley made a dent in getting your work done when you had got up, saying that you needed a snack break.
"You want anything, hun?" You asked as you grabbed a few dollars from your purse and he had thought for a second as he wrote down the correct answer instead of yours.
"Skittles, and after this can you please focus? I want you to pass this class so can-"
You had placed a small kiss on his cheek, pulling away and smiling at his face which was starting to grow a faint shade of pink.
"The sour ones?" You asked, referring to his choice of candy and he had nodded quietly, looking back down at the paper.
You hummed, leaving the library and Eli had smiled down at the paper as he continued to correct you mistakes. He knew you were at least trying, math wasn't everybody's strong suite.
"I thought freaks left the school strictly at three."
His body tensed up at the familiar voice, his grip tightening around the mechanical pencil in his palm.
He kept his eyes on the page, hoping that if he ignored the boy for long enough he would grow bored and go torture somebody else.
"Yo, we're talking to you, freak." One of Kyler's friends hissed, slamming one of the textbooks shut, the slam echoing throughout the library which earned him a harsh glare from a couple of the students.
Of course, none of them cared care. Kyler walked over and grabbed Eli by his face and forced him to look up at him.
"Jesus Christ. I still don't get it." He shook his head as he stared the other boy down with a harsh glare. "Just how does she manage to kiss you without puking."
There it was again.
He felt tears pricking his eyes, his vision growing glossy as he tried to blink them away and he heard Kyler snickering in front of him.
"Are you crying? Stop being such a little bitch." Kyler let go of Eli's face, making sure to push his head back a bit as he did so with a smug smile.
"She's dating a freak and a crybaby? How low are her standards?" His friends snickered as Kyler titled his head with a narrowed gaze. He opened his mouth to speak again but a voice spoke up.
"Why are you guys talking to my boyfriend?"
They had turned their heads to you as you were holding a few snacks and a bottle of water. You placed them on the table beside your stuff as you looked at the three.
"Hello? I asked a question, so don't stand there and look stupid." You repeated, looking directly at Kyler who crossed his arms over his chest.
"We were just talking-"
"About what exactly?" You interrupted with furrowed brows, barely giving any of them a chance to muster up a response as you looked over to Eli.
"What'd they say?" You asked, trying to make your voice a bit softer since your were talking to Eli but your frustration was obvious through your tone.
He muttered something you didn't quite catch so you leaned a bit closer. "A bit louder for me, please."
He glanced away, wiping the corners of his eyes with his sleeve. "Just the same stuff as last time..look, it's not really a problem. Can we just lea-"
You had cut him off as you leaned forward to place a kiss on his lips, your lipgloss leaving a glossy residue.
And for good measure you had placed another one right on his scar with a small smile.
"We're not going anywhere. They can leave." You stated, turning your attention back to the three with raised eyebrows as you noticed they were still standing there.
"Can you guys hear? Get lost already, Jesus Christ. It's like you have nothing better to do." You rolled your eyes, waving the group goodbye.
It seemed that Kyler's two friends got the hint as they muttered something under their breaths and walked away.
"I just don't think I'll ever get it." Kyler scoffed, shaking his head as he stared at the two of you in disgust.
You shrugged your shoulders. "It's not for you to get, obviously. Why don't you worry about your own relationship that's falling apart?"
He scowled at you, narrowing his gaze into a glare before muttering; "Freaks." under his breath and turning on his heel but you heard it.
You stood back up from your seat much to the dismay of Eli who was urging you to sit back down so the two of you could finish studying.
"Say that again?"
"I said-"
Eli wasn't fast enough as you swung your fist at Kyler, hitting him straight in the nose. His hands flew up to cover it as he squeezed his eyes shut, tears pricking in the corner.
"You bitch! You probably broke my fucking nose!"
"Good." You scoffed, shaking your fist and squeezing it a bit and Eli had started to pack up your things before the librarian could ask what was going on.
As the two of you walked out of the library he noticed you wincing slightly as you touched your knuckles.
"I'll ice it when we get to my house." He reassured you as he grabbed your non dominant hand to hold it so you would stop poking at the other.
You smiled, placing a kiss on the back of his hand. "Aw, you're the best."
"Well, you did punch Kyler for me. I think you're the best." He hummed, copying your movements and placing a kiss on the back of your palm.
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lupiinist · 2 months ago
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barty is a great cook.
like, not only because his mum taught him how to cook (gets even better if you hc him as italian or spanish [or latino, too]), but also because his friends can't cook even if their lives depended on it
regulus is a menace in the kitchen, he once burned a kettle trying to make tea, evan is too lazy to try to learn, pandora was banned from the kitchen after making something (no one really knows what it was) that got them all sick, and dorcas can do the basic, but she likes having barty cook for her
it surprises a lot of people when they learn it that that goth, punk, edgy, slightly off guy with too many piercings and tattoos to count could be the chef of his own restaurant if he wanted to. his specialty is main dishes, he's superb with pasta and meat, but also rocks the desserts
he bonded with james over food, because james is also the cook of his group of friends (he makes the most amazing desi dishes [which i won't go into much detail because honestly it's 3 am and i can't research properly right now])
opposite to what many people think, the skittles rarely order food when they're hanging out together. barty almost always cooks. more than knowing how to, he likes to cook. it's something he shares with his mum, something his father never had any influence over (after all, he was never home during supper)
most of all, barty loves to cook for evan. evan is the type of person who tends to either get into hyperfocus and forgets to eat or has a very bad week and forgets to eat. either way, he doesn't take good care of himself. barty helps by popping up in his house, making him get up from the couch and help him in the kitchen. evan doesn't cook, but he sorts the ingredients out and occasionally chops a tomato (not onions though, he hates how they make him cry). he makes barty company, and they both have slightly better weeks just because of that
so, in the end, barty loves to cook.
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be-with-me-so-happily · 2 years ago
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Could We Not?
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ONE SHOT
[ or Part 1 to Not Another Time ]
<< Request >> "Hey! I was wondering if you could do a one-shot where she’s like apart of the band and she gets hit in the head with a hard object while she’s on stage and Harry is super freaked out? That would be a sanity saver!" - @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
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Summary: Harry Styles is used to having things thrown at him on stage. Recently, it's been Skittles, which affected his vision. But when his band members are affected, he can't stay silent. Especially when it's YN who takes the hit.
AN: I had a lot of fun writing this! YN replaces Laura in the band, just in general, only because she plays the trumpet and I still included Parris.
Warnings: Some explicit language, wound with blood, angry Harry
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He can't escape it. It has carried on from his days in One Direction, and it seems to have become a permanent, unavoidable occurrence that things are thrown at him on stage.
Most are harmless, such as boas, sunglasses, or little plush toys that he is always inclined to keep.
However, there have been a few occasions where the objects were a bit more troublesome. Phones are a big one, which internally annoys the hell out of him at this point.
The most recent culprit, and the most shocking, was a handful of Skittles, one which hit him directly in his left eye. If there is a silver lining of that moment, it's that he only had to get through performing 'Kiwi' before he was able to run backstage and immediately have it taken care of.
He tries not to show anger on stage when things like that happen. He loves his fans. He always wants to treat them with kindness, acceptance, and gratitude. So he doesn't draw much attention to it. There has only been one occasion or two where he has subtly asked for some fans to stop throwing things.
Tonight, however, might be his tipping point.
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Harry has brushed off the frustration from the rock hard candy incident, because tonight is a new night and a new show.
There is also the new trumpet player, YN. Well, she isn't new per say, she's been there since the tour came back to North America, but she is the newest member of the band, and the one Harry has become extremely fond of.
She fits in perfectly with the rest of the group. She is so kind, so joyful, and everyone seems to be energized just by her presence. Including Harry. Especially Harry. The moment she walked into the trial rehearsal, he felt an electricity course through his veins that he's never felt before. He shook it off as a mere, and mild, physical attraction. Then she started to play, and he was taken into a trance by her talent and passion. Then she spoke, and he felt his heart flutter more than ever.
He knows he has a crush, one that he can't talk about or act on, but it doesn't stop the forming of a grin when the horn players walk up onto the stage. It doesn't stop the goosebumps he feels when they all begin to play, being able to pick out the sound of her specific instrument. It doesn't stop the thought that those songs, the ones where they get to be there together, may just be his favorite ones to perform.
So when 'Satellite' ends, and after a good chat with the crowd, reading their signs, the four horn players make their way up the stairs as 'Cinema' begins, causing his heart to flutter and his current smile to stretch out into a wide grin.
When they play an extended introduction for 'Music For A Sushi Restaurant', he takes the opportunity to get some water and give her a quick smile, hoping that he actually does see a blush form on her cheeks, even behind her trumpet.
He stays on the outside of the stage for that song, but gets even more excited when the band begins to play 'Treat People With Kindness'. This means YN will move to one of the outside corners, which also means he'll get to be closer to her as he moves around during the song.
He makes sure to pass by her any chance he gets, but tries hard not to make his intentions too obvious, to the crowd or to YN. She's a part of his band, and he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, even if she does appear to reciprocate any smile or slightly flirtatious comment he makes. He wants any move made to be on YN's terms. However, that won't stop him from taking this opportunity to share a little dance with her.
"Wait for it… wait for it… wait for it. One, two, three, four!"
As the crowd shouts out the chorus, Harry stations himself next to her, moving his hips side to side, causing her to pull back from her instrument and let out the most amazing laugh.
He's going to do that every time from now on, just so he can hear that again.
That song ends, and she moves into the center with the rest of the horn players, walking through to the other side of the stage as they start their intro for 'What Makes You Beautiful'.
He moves back to the mic stand in front of the walkway, trying to catch glimpses of her every so often, as she stands near the corner to his left.
"I don't know why you're being shy, and turn away when I look into your eyes."
He takes a few steps to his left, pointing his arms out to the fans and encouraging them to sing the bridge.
At that moment, something whizzes over in his direction and lands by his feet. He takes a quick look down, and then to his left, noticing that YN has moved a few feet over to the other side of the stage. He sees Mitch taking a couple of glances over to her as well, mouthing something, but she nods and continues to play.
As the final chorus nears, the four horn players move back to the center of the stage to play the last parts of the song.
He grabs his mic from the stand and engages the crowd, instantly requesting that they applaud for the horn players. He watches as YN gives a wave to the crowd, confused as to why she isn't doing it as vibrant as normal. She could just be tired, though she usually pushes through it, but it's been an intense leg of the tour in Los Angeles.
The time between that and 'Late Night Talking', while Parris plays his beautiful solo, is usually one of his favorite moments, because he has a little bit more time to interact with her on stage. Even if it's only a quick comment or joke, he loves it and takes what he can get. But as he moves closer to grab his water bottle, he sees her talking to Pauli, who swiftly hands her a spare face cloth that he keeps by him.
Harry immediately frowns and quickens his pace over to her.
"What's wrong?"
She wipes herself off and shakes her head, keeping her gaze downward. He can't remember a time where she wasn't happy and bright. But now she looks embarrassed, and sad, which pains him to see.
"Some… something hit me."
"What? Where? How?" He blurts out, not even fully able to process what she is explaining had occurred.
"A fan threw something. I don't know what it was." She sighs, flickering her gaze up to him with a troubling expression across her face.
"Shit. Are you alright?" He steps closer to her, unintentionally placing his hand on the middle of her back, and he feels her shiver under his touch. He removes it, his eyes fixated on her, and he feels some relief when he sees a small smile appear on her face.
"I'll be okay." She assures him. Her trumpet lifts up to her lips, the ones he has wondered what they would feel like against his, and he realizes that Parris has finished his part. "Let's get on with it."
He bites his lower lip as she gives him a wink, and feels a blush form on his own cheeks. If she knew what she does to him, she probably wouldn't be doing that. But he'll take it.
He sings through the second chorus on the closest walkway, still giddy at the fact that he can pick out her trumpet from the others, and he just knows she is swaying back and forth to the lyrics as she always does.
However, he turns around to make his way back, pointing his mic back out to the crowd, and when he sees YN again, she is holding her fingers against the spot over her left eyebrow.
Instantly his chest tightens and he bounces back over there as the song ends. She makes her way back to the center with the others while he takes a quick gulp of water, turning around when they begin to play 'Watermelon Sugar'.
"I'm bleeding." He hears her state to Parris.
"Okay. Go." Parris replies, and Harry follows after her.
"YN." He tries to shout without causing too much of a fuss, but she steps down the stairs, and he clenches his jaw as he watches her make her way backstage.
This isn't good, and he really hopes he can get through this song now.
"Alright, if… if you know this one, please… please do sing along." He stumbles through his words, his eyes still glaring over to the spot where YN exited.
Performing this one isn't as fun this time, though the crowd are probably none the wiser, as he keeps his professionalism as intact as possible. But it is different. She's usually on the walkway in front of him, dancing away as she plays, causing his heart to flutter each time she moves.
He either closes his eyes or moves around the stage a bit, hoping to momentarily distract himself from her, and stay focused on the music. At least to get through the song.
And thankfully he does.
As soon as it ends, the rest of the horn players make their way off the stage, and Harry immediately rushes over to his little setup in front of Pauli.
"Start playing, but I want to talk with the crowd for a moment." He states into the band mic, for only the crew to hear.
They softly play the melody of 'Love of My Life' and he raises his hand as if to signal that he has something to say.
"Thank you Los Angeles, so much, for all of your support. I, more than anyone, know that I couldn't do this without all of you. I hope you have had a great time." The crowd cheers, and stomps, and he responds with some kisses blown around the venue. Then his expression becomes a bit more solemn and he turns back to the mic. "I want to say that my number one priority for everyone here tonight has been safety. That includes everyone on stage as well."
The crowd immediately hushes, which usually doesn't happen without his lead, and it shocks him. But hopefully it means they'll hear his message.
"I always encourage you to dance, sing, and interact. I always suggest that you treat everyone with kindness. And now, I also ask that you please think about these amazing people on stage, and refrain from throwing things that could potentially hurt someone. One of our members was hurt during a song tonight and unfortunately had to leave." He pulls back, clearing his throat in an attempt to keep his frustration at bay. "We want to be able to keep doing this with you for as long as possible, so we all need to make sure that safety is our top priority. So let's keep it safe and have some more fun. How does that sound, Los Angeles?"
He holds two thumbs up to the fans, swiveling around while everyone begins to cheer again, and walks over to his mic for the next song. The last one before their little break, and before their encore. He'll be done soon.
He knows his energy has diminished a bit, which is fine for 'Love of My Life', because his mind is back on YN. He desperately wants to know if she is okay. Needs to know, at this point.
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During the break before their encore, Harry rushed underneath and pleaded with the crew to find out what had happened to YN, and whether she's being taken care of. They assured him that she is fine, but he couldn't get rid of his worry.
He put on his best entertainer persona for the last three songs, feeding off the excitement of the crowd to get him through until the end.
But once 'Kiwi' was finished, he blew kisses to the fans and sprinted backstage, immediately feeling frantic.
"Jeff-"
"H, man, you doing okay?" His manager asks, concern all over his face.
"Where is YN?" Harry quickly asks, not even bothering to answer about himself.
"Huh?"
"Where's YN? She got hit by something. She had to get off stage. Where'd she go?" He asks, feeling frazzled like he never has before.
"Oh. Uh, I haven't seen her, maybe-"
Harry strides off, not really knowing which direction to head, but willing to walk all over the place to find her.
He sees another familiar face, feeling some hope that she'll have an answer.
"Lorren, where's YN?" He asks, hoping his tone is a bit more calm than it was with Jeff, but knowing he could be failing.
"She's in the common room." Lorren replies, a small smirk forming suddenly. "She's okay, Harry."
His eyes grow wide and he stands up straighter, more stable, more casual. Or at least trying to.
"Yeah. Of course. I just… wanted to check in with her." He utters, but her intrigued, raised eyebrow tells him that she doesn't accept his answer.
"Harry…" She chuckles. "I know you care about her more than that…"
"What? No-... I mean…" He sighs, running a ringed hand through his sweaty hair. "Shit."
Lorren laughs again and she puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Your secret is safe with me."
He nods and feels a hot burn flooding his cheeks, not even attempting to hide it since she clearly knows she's right.
"Does she fee-" He begins, immediately stopping as he sees her pull her lips inward. "Nevermind. Doesn't matter. I'm just… gonna check on her."
Lorren nods and smiles, squeezing his shoulder then pointing down the hallway.
"Good luck…" She teases as she walks away.
"What?"
"Nothing." She replies, already opening the door to another room.
He takes a deep breath and turns back around to the direction he needs to go, his steps faster the closer he gets to the room she is occupying.
He opens the door without hesitation, instantly seeing YN sitting on the sofa with an ice pack held on her face, and her phone in the other hand.
He clears his throat as he takes a few steps towards her, slower than they were in the hallway, and his heart pounds faster than it just had been.
"Hello." He utters, not wanting to startle her. She shoots her gaze up to him and he feels butterflies as she immediately smiles. She may have looked different on stage after the incident, but he is happy to see that her bright demeanor seems to have returned. His concern begins to melt away.
"Hi." She responds, putting her phone down, along with the ice pack. She winces as she does, and as he moves to the sofa, he finally sees the large gash on her forehead.
His heart sinks, and he is thankful for the close proximity to the furniture, because his knees almost give out completely as he takes a seat next to her, on the opposite side of where her cut is.
"Fuck, YN, are you alright?" He inquires, his gaze flickering between her gorgeous, sparkling eyes and her anger-inducing wound. His jaw instantly clenches and his palms ball into fists. He can't believe this happened, especially to her. His gaze drops, and he begins to fill with guilt. "I'm so sorry you got hurt."
Suddenly, he feels the warmth and soft touch of her hand on his, causing the tension in his palms to release right away.
"It's not your fault, H. And I'm okay."
He looks up to her again, being met with the gaze he tries hard not to get lost in, but fails every time he's close enough to see it.
"I just…" He sighs and shakes his head, not entirely sure what he wants to express, and worried it could be more than he should. "I just want to… know that you're alright."
"That's sweet." She utters, a tenderness in her tone. He smiles at the irony of her attempt to calm him, when it should be the other way around. "I am. I am alright."
A squeeze of YN's hand grabs his gaze once again, and he just sits in silence as he, once again, gets lost in her eyes.
His hand unintentionally reaches up, gently resting under her chin as he turns her head to view her wound, sighing once more at the sight of it. His thumb reaches up, gliding over her skin, right under the cut, and a tingle rushes over him.
A strong exhale leaves her mouth and he turns her head back to him, his eyes tracing the lines of her lips. He looks back to her gaze, his breath hitching at her beauty, and his body acts on his feelings as he leans in, gently pressing his lips against her own.
She lets out a small sigh, which snaps him back to reality, and he pulls back.
"Shit. I'm… fuck, I'm sorry." His hand drops and he scoots his body further away from her, feeling every ounce of embarrassment possible. He didn't want to make the first move, if there was even one to be made. What if she didn't want it? What if she hated it? "Fuck."
"Please, don't…" She clears her throat, a sudden timidness in her tone. "Please don't be sorry."
Harry's heart begins to race, and he glances up to see her smile. However, a knock on the half-closed door causes both their heads to turn that way, and they both sit up straighter.
"I finally found a bandaid." A venue staff member states, handing it to YN and walking out.
She begins to open it up, removing the strips and exposing the sticky sides, then looks around the room for a mirror.
"Here." Harry reaches out, grazing her hand, and regaining her attention. "Let me."
She hands him the bandage, and he scoots closer again, their thighs barely touching, but just enough for his stomach to fill with butterflies.
He gently places the band-aid over her cut, gliding his thumb over the corners to make sure they stay secured. His gaze drops down, and his breath hitches as he sees her gazing up to him through her lashes.
His palm slides down and rests on her cheek, and she tilts her head upwards, their lips hovering in front of each other.
"Thank you." She whispers, her own hand placing itself on top of his.
Harry attempts to swallow down the lump stuck in his throat, but is interrupted by the sudden soft pressure against his lips. He lets out a quiet whimper, and her hand moves around to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her. His mouth begins to move with hers, and the tip of his tongue teases the gap between her lips.
She suddenly pulls away, and a frown forms on his face, until her gaze flickers to the door and he hears the chatter in the hallway that must have caused her to stop.
He pushes back, only out of caution and respect for both of their privacy, and grins when he sees her blush.
"You know, I've had recent experience with eye injuries."
"Right. You have." She giggles.
"If you want… you don't have to… but if you want to, you… you could come to my suite." He clears his throat. "To hang out. And I can keep an eye on that injury for you."
"No pun intended." She laughs, and his grin, surprisingly, grows wider. She's still so bright, and he's already down bad.
"I…" She begins, another blush instantly taking over her delicate skin. "I wouldn't mind seeing you looking at me a little more tonight."
"Oh my god." He breaths out, swiftly throwing his palms over his face.
He feels her fingers wrap around his wrist and removes his hands to find her standing in front of him. She tugs on his arm, and he lifts himself off the chair.
"Then maybe I'll get the chance to do the same." She states, biting her lower lip before letting him go and moving around the room to grab her stuff.
Yeah. He's definitely down bad, and despite her being injured, this just may end up being the best show by far.
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If you like what I post, and want to just send some extra support, I have a ko-fi account. Even the smallest amount is greatly appreciated. There is no obligation or expectation to donate, because I am honestly just so grateful that you're here! 💗 Bee xx
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deathnguts · 4 months ago
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I could talk for hours about the sweet spot between regulus being a softie as a child and a teen/adult grew into someone with practically unbreakable walls that are simply part of him now and how that softie still shines through liek a ghost haunting a house. BUT my favorite example is Regulus being someone who has a visceral reaction to things he finds cute and precious, liek small animals or moths or toys no one cares about. He obviously knows how to keep that reaction to a minimum when around other people so none of his closest friends see him genuinely geek out over something adorable even when they know he is still softer to cute things, but he’s got that bubbling urge still that he keeps under wraps with like a twitch in his eye. That is, until he sees Barty in his raccoon animagus form for the first time and he just stops because he’s never seen a raccoon before but then he just melts and the next thing anyone knows he’s cradles Barty like a baby while he just goes insane about how adorable he is and he can’t stop smiling and gushing and the rest of the skittles are just watching with a prideful ‘huh. That’s new.’ sort of thought because it’s nice to see the traces of genuine sweetness left in their friend sometimes. And Barty is absolutely cheezed after, he’s just a complete dope high on the joy of being fawned over and pampered so much by his favorite boy. It’s a good day for everyone.
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lovexjoe · 5 months ago
Note
Armando smut???
Intoxicated
Synopsis: Armando had broken up with you 3 months ago. It was the worse time of your life but you two still worked together. Tonight you celebrate Dorn’s birthday along with his engagement to Kelly.
Warning: Angst, alcohol, drugs, mental health and smut
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The past 3 months were not your best. It went from being the time of your life, working with the love of your life to being dumped. AMMO took notice of how much it changed you. The fierce personality was no longer present. You had so much anxiety, insecurities, and depression. You couldn’t even be on a mission without having a panic attack. Armando took notice since he only had his eyes set on you. He felt so guilty that he vanished your light. He knew there was no coming back from this. He had everything he could ever dream of with you, but he felt like he didn’t deserve it so he let you go. Eventually you would be over him, he was not anyone special. Kelly told you in advance if you didn’t want to come, she’ll understand. It’s been 3 months and to neglect celebrating your friends cause of a man was not gonna fly with you.
You finished up the last touches to your makeup and examined yourself in the mirror. You had lost over 15 lbs since the breakup, but it only brought out your curves and snatched your waist; thankfully. Your nerves were starting to creep up on you. What if he brings a date? You started a bad habit of smoking weed again. AMMO doesn't mind as long as you're clean on the job. You took a few hits of your joint to settle your nerves. Which believe me it did, but somehow your mind kept fluttering back to if he brings a plus one. You decided to text your childhood best friend AKA Dorn’s brother if he wants to ride with you. You two haven’t talked since your relationship with Armando because well he’s beyond possessive over you. But tonight you didn’t care.
✧༺♥༻∞∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞ ✧༺♥✧༺
You and Alex enter the rented out beach house hand and hand. Not really caring if you raised speculations because you’re single after all and it’s time to move on. After you guys placed your weekend bags in your rooms, you headed out to the living room. Both of you guys greeted everyone with hugs and kisses. The night starts with everyone dancing. You and Kelly steal the dance floor having everyone cheering.
“Girl am I happy to see you back out. You look amazing sweetheart” Marcus pulls you in for a big hug. You slipped him his pack of skittles that you promised him and Mike shot you a look.
“I’m sorry! I can’t say no to Uncle Marcus !” You innocently put your hands up slowly backing up. You back straight into someone, losing your balance. Their hand wraps around your waist, their sinful familiar scent filled the air and you knew you were fucked.
“Y/N….” Hearing him say your name after so long. He steadies you and you give him a small smile before heading off to the bar for a shot…make that 3. After you down your last shot, he’s right back next to you.
“You really shouldn’t be drinking so much.” He scolds you.
“You really shouldn’t be giving a fuck cause I’m not yours to worry about anymore.” You snapped. The mix of weed and alcohol making you cross faded. Before he could say anything else, Alex sneaks up behind you and grabs your hand.
“Sorry to interrupt but I’m trying to dance with my date.” Alex gives Armando the “do you mind look” deep down in your gut you knew this wasn’t going to end well. Armando gulps down the rest of his drink, placing the glass back down with some force.
“So what Y/N we break up and you end up fucking the first person you see-“ your hand met his face so fast. The slap causing everyone to “ouuu”
“Fuck you! You broke up with ME! You dont get to be upset!” You apologize to Kelly before heading up to your room. All your emotions you were trying to hide for the night coming back up. Armando hot on your fucking heels. What the FUCK does he want ?!
As you enter your room, tearing start streaming down your face. He closes the door and locks it: now you didn’t even have a choice to escape.
“Don’t give me those bullshit tears! Did you fuck him?” He got up in your face only for you to shove him back HARD.
“So what if I did?!” You shoved him again, this time he pushes you against the bedroom door. Your hands being held above your head.
“You really want to give someone else what’s mine mami?” Oh
The energy shifted in the room. You hated him, but you also hated how much you wanted him. Your body aching to be touched. He leans in kissing you slowly wanting to savor the moment between you two. You felt like you were in a dream. All your senses just taken over by him. You felt so weak but you didn’t want him to stop. It’s been too long. He starts sucking on your neck, placing little bites and kisses on your sensitive spots.
“I missed you, please touch me” you begged causing him to pick you up and place you on the bed. He smacks your ass, giving you the signal to go on all fours. Lifting your dress, pulling aside your thong he groans as he sees how wet you already are.
“Fuck mami, I missed this pussy” he immediately starts to eat you out. His tongue licking up all your wetness. You tried your best to be quiet but you were already moaning his name. He slips a finger in as he starts to suck on your clit bringing out your first orgasm.
“P-please fuck me Armando p-please” you begged as you ride out your orgasm by grinding your pussy against his mouth. He unzips his pants, slapping his length against your sensitive clit causing you to perfectly arch your back for him. He wasted no time slipping into you causing you both to let out a desperate cry. You two were made for each other.
“Fuckkk Y/N, tu eres mía mami” (You are mine)
“Only yours, daddy” you looked back at him causing him to groan. Armando knew you weren’t leaving this weekend not his again. Fuck his doubts. Fuck his trauma. He wants you, all of you forever. He’ll work on whatever he needs to, to be a better man for you. He couldn’t bare another man seeing you like this. He grabs both of your arms holding them as he pounds into you mercilessly. The sounds of your wet pussy and his hard thrusts filling the air.
“I love you I love you I love you” you babbled on, completely fucked senseless as you came for the second time. He gets on top, having you in a pronebone position. Fuck it’s even deeper now.
Kissing your exposed back, his thrusts becoming more slow, but deeper and harder bringing out another orgasm from you.
“I love you too princesa.” He holds you close as he reaches his climax, whispering his im sorrys and please don’t leave me as he empties himself deep inside you
You knew you were never going to leave him and just hoped he never leaves you again.
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twice-inamillion · 5 months ago
Text
The Company 
Double Life
Fluff and Angst (Dark theme)
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Chapter 12
1735 Words 
(Company OC lives his everyday life, taking care of his business and ensuring everything runs smoothly. He has a soft spot for Mina, being his first recruit as the CEO. He also cares for trainees like Nayeon, who are as important as anyone else. Running a business is hard work, and sometimes you must get your hands dirty to ensure everything runs smoothly.)
After arriving from San Francisco, you went straight to work. Setting up an acting division within the company seemed easy, but recruiting talent was the most important part.
Luckily, the company executives took care of recruiting personnel and coaches while your main focus was on selecting actresses. 
While you look at some actress profiles, you get briefed on what you missed last week. IU mentions that rumors about the acting division have been circulating since someone, a well-known actress, visited the company. Officially, nothing hasn’t been confirmed, but you knew this was bound to happen. 
“We’ve been receiving many inquiries from trainees, asking if they can audition for a position in the new acting division.”
”Damn, what do you think? Should we open the recruitment to the trainees?”
”That’s up to you, sir. You mentioned you want to get some well-known actresses first, so maybe you should focus on that.”
”You’re right. Once we’re settled, we can think about expanding it to the rest.”
Also, while you were away, the trainee, Mina, stopped by. She mentioned that she wanted to see you.”
”Oh, okay. I’ll get in contact with her. Thanks Ji-eun.”
——
There is a knock at your door, and you see a silhouette, “It’s me, Mina.”
”Come in.”
Mina slowly opens the door and walks inside, “Good morning.”
”Good morning, Mina, how are you?”
”I’m okay. I didn’t know that you left abroad.”
”Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you. Did you need something?”
”No, I just haven’t seen you, so I came to stop by.” 
“Aww, that’s nice of you. Come and sit down.”
Mina takes a seat on the couch and stares at you. 
“How’s it going with your training?”
”It’s going well. I still have a hard time talking to all the girls, but I’ve gotten close to Momo and Sana.”
”That’s great. It's nice to see that you have someone to talk to.”
”They speak Japanese, so it’s easier for me. I just wish I didn’t get nervous.”
Don’t worry about it. People are naturally going to come to you based on your personality. You’re a really sweet girl.”
Mina’s ears get a bit red, and you find it kind of cute. You can’t help but see her as a younger sister, someone to protect.
”Oh, by the way, your parents sent you a package,” you say as you stand up and get the box that is on the other side of the room. 
“Oh, what is it?”
”All they told me was that you had to open it before it goes bad.”
Mina picks up the box and places it on the table. You hand her an envelope cutter and opens the box, “Aww, they sent me my favorite snacks.” She grabs one of the snacks and hands it to you, “Here, try it.” 
You try the bag of Skittles she gave you and share some with her. You can’t help but smile as you see her show her gummy smile. “Do I have something on my face?”
”No, it’s just that it’s nice to see you so happy.”
Mina’s ears turn red from your comment, “It’s just that these are my favorite, plus my parents sent them, so it makes it more special.”
”You’re right. Let's send something to them as well; what do you think?”
”Really?”
”Yeah. You don’t want to?”
”No, I do.”
”What do you want to send?”
”Umm, maybe some bread?”
”That sounds nice. Do you have an idea of where we should buy it?”
”Umm, there is a bakery that they used to take me to when I was little.”
”That’s nice. Let’s put in an order and have it delivered to them.”
”Are you really going to do it?”
”Yeah.”
Mina goes towards you and gives you a hug, “Thank you so much, Oppa.” It only takes a few minutes for her to realize what she did, and she steps back, face completely blushed, “I’m sorry, I just reacted without thinking.” 
“Don’t worry about it, it happens.” 
The two of you end up talking a bit more before Irene interrupts you two, “Sorry, I didn't know you had someone with you, sir; I’ll come back.”
”It’s okay, I was leaving anyway. Thanks, Oppa.” Mina waves goodbye and exits your office, leaving you and Irene to discuss important matters. 
———
You finish your evening run and go to the nearby cafe by the company building. Coming out of the cafe, you see one of the trainees standing in front of one of the gates that lead to the campus buildings. From afar, you can see they are pacing back and forth like they are waiting for something. You see a person cross the street and walk towards the trainee and wonder what’s going on. 
They seem to be talking to each other when you see the person, who seems to be an older man, grabs the trainee by the arm. The trainee struggles and tries to let go and yells, “Let me go!”
You exit the cafe and walk towards the street, trying to get an idea of what’s going on. As you walk closer, you see Im Nayeon, one of the transfer trainees from JYP. “She said to let her go” as you grab the man’s arm.
”This has nothing to do with you, so let me go!” shouts the older man.
”It does; I’m responsible for her, so I’m going to ask you to stop bothering her.” 
“Nayeon, tell that man that I’m not bothering you.”
You turn and see Nayeon frozen, unable to say a word.”
”Come on, sweetie, tell this man to not treat your father this way.”
”You… you’re not my dad.”
”Don’t be like that, Nayeon; of course, I’m your dad. I’m the one who raised you and your gold-digging mother.”
”Don’t call her that.”
”Well, she is a gold-digging whore. She’s been asking me for money and forcing me to support you.”
You can tell that Nayeon is getting upset by this whole situation and asks, “Nayeon, do you want this man here or not?”
Nayeon shakes her head, “No, I don’t want him here.”
”See, she told you to leave; now go before I call the police.”
”Fuck you, let me go. Nayeon! Listen to me; I’m going to get my money back, one way or another!” 
You grab the man’s arm and push him in between toward the sidewalk, “Go or else it’s going to go worse for you,” telling him in a serious voice. 
“Fuck! This doesn’t end here!”
Turning around, you say, “Nayeon, are you okay?” She doesn’t respond and is frozen from the encounter. You grab her hand, lead her to a private area, and sit on one of the benches, “What happened? Why did that man say he was your dad?”
”He… he’s not my actual dad but my mom’s ex-husband. He’s been harassing us ever since my mom broke up with him.”
”Did you try calling the police?”
”We did, but they wouldn’t do anything. He just wants us to pay back the money he spent on us.”
”What a douchebag.”
”It’s one of the reasons why I decided to join JYP; I thought I could earn some good money after debuting, but that hasn’t happened.”
”I’m sorry to hear that, but I've heard from your coaches that you’re one of the top trainees in the group.”
”How does that help me now? I was supposed to help my mom and get us away from that man.” Nayeon begins to cry, upset at her current situation.
”Everything is going to be okay,” you say as you try to comfort her. 
“I’m sorry you had to see me cry; I’m so embarrassed, especially since you’re the company's CEO.”
”There is nothing to be embarrassed about,” you say as you caress her head. It takes her a while to calm down, but after settling down, she asks, “Is there a way I can work part-time while still being a trainee? I just want to pay that man back so he can leave us alone.”
”You don’t have to do that; just focus on your training. I’ll try to contact your mom and see what we can do to ensure he doesn't bother you again. Nayeon agrees, knowing that she can’t do anything in her situation. Jeongyeon and Jihyo appear a few moments later after receiving a message from Nayeon earlier. 
You head back to your office and look for one of your family’s contacts, a friend who can help you in these situations.
”Hey, Don, It’s me. I have a bit of a situation going on.
”……”
”Let me send you the info.”
”……”
“Let’s make this as discreet as possible. I don’t want it causing problems anymore.”
————
Nayeon’s former step-father walks out of the gambling club after losing his month’s earnings. Defeated, he cuts through the alley, trying to return to his cramped apartment after getting kicked out of his house. ‘Fuck that gold-digging slut and her daughter, stealing my hard-earned money. Throwing me like some trash after supporting them for so long. 
Covered by the darkness comes out a figure, “Hey man, it’s been a while.”
”Do I know you?”
”No, but I know you.”
The former step-father is too late to realize and falls to the group. He only sees a vague silhouette of a figure standing before him in the dark alley, “Who are you?”
”No one, I’m just here to take care of someone who’s been causing trouble to my employer. They send their regards.”
There’s no response, only a man lying on the cold, dark floor in an unknown alley. 
Don takes out his phone, calls his employer, “It’s done,” and clicks it. 
The door of a black van opens, and multiple men step out and carry the man lying on the floor. They toss him inside and shut the door before leaving the alley like nothing happened. 
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