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poppy-metal · 5 months ago

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fail marriage au…………………….

having your first big blow out fight after marriage counselling. putting everything you ever found aggravating or disrespectful or wrong or even just a bit annoying on the table. art doing exactly the same. it gets mean. it gets personal. it gets ugly. you scream at him, scream like a banshee and he shouts back. veins you didn’t know he had bulge in his neck, his fingers flex as he wildly gesticulates. you throw something, a plastic tv remote that shatters against the wall. it all passes in a heated blur, you hardly know what you’re doing or saying but that blood is pumping through your veins and you’re alive and so is art. alive. furious, at you. you stalk up to him, and he stands tall above you, looming like a storm cloud. a sweet faced angelic storm cloud that right at this second you couldn’t fucking stand. you jab at his chest with your finger as you yell, lay into him. why couldn’t he tell you how he feels? why did he have to be so fucking passive aggressive? why was tashi the centre of his fucking universe? why couldn’t he be a fucking man and tell you what he really wants? be a man art. be a fucking man for once in your goddamn life.

his nostrils flare, his anger rising with every poke. he grabs your wrist, yanks it up and leans in close. stooping, showing you that he is bigger. he would stoop to your level. he will fight back. you feel his breath on your nose and seethe. he’s still minty fresh. stupid cunt.

“what i want is for you to shut the fuck up and stop acting like you know everything.”

“fuck off, you limp dicked sack of shit.”

“fuck you cunt.” he flicks those brutal syllables at you, chewing his words, opening his mouth so you can see his tongue forming them. you feel the severity in the pit of your stomach. you feel something else lower.

“fuck me? fuck you!”

and in that moment you drew together, moving as one, in the most violent kiss of the modern age. he squeezes your wrist, still held aloft. your other hand grips his shirt collar, pulling so hard it hurts his neck. good. you hope his delicate little neck gets a friction burn and a rash and you hope it stings forever. he tongues furiously at your mouth, mashing his lips into yours and licking the side of your mouth. eating your face like he eats pussy. which he hasn’t done in a while, another thing to yell at him about later. his other hand grips the back of your head, holding it still so you have no choice but to recieve his hot, angry love. you kiss back with equal fury. you want to make him suffer your love. don’t want it? tough luck. it’s his. and he will take it. he grunts into your mouth, it vibrates your tongue. you pull back, but he doesn’t let you. he forces you back nearer to him, spine curving in hateful ecstasy. he kisses you for a few more seconds before drawing back only a few centimetres to rest his forehead on yours and breathe. your lips are wet with him.

“i love you,” you breath.

he caresses the back of your head.

“prove it.”

me when i overachieve.

anyway this is apart of my failmarriage au and you should probably read this part first to understand whats going on here. or just follow the #failmarriage au tag that i have.

your breath shudders out of you. you'd never heard that tone from him before, or rather, never directed at you. not exactly cold but, chilled. serious and pointed. dominant.

your hands fall from his hair, sliding down his throat, his shoulders. you stare into his eyes - he stares back. you feel like you're on a razor thin wire. concede or push back.

you wonder what this will fix. but you don't think you care. you want him. you miss him. your heart is pounding just thinking about it. you take a step back, two, three, several paces.

"okay," you say. you dont even know what you're agreeing too, just that you want it, whatever it is.

before you even have time to linger on that thought though -

because art is already stalking towards you, undoing his soft leather belt and letting it drop to the floor. you couldn’t move. you couldn’t breathe. just watching in this kind of stupified silence as art unczips his pants and slides his delicate fingers under his waistband. In three strides, art was right up in your space, owning it, staring you down with a cool kind of control in his eyes, heavy cock in his hand, already hard and flushed and mouthwateringly beautiful. you couldn’t speak. you couldn’t think. all you could see was art.

when art spoke, his voice was an iron grip closing around your throat. each word as clear and distinct as a brand to your hot skin.

“get on your knees”

you sink to the floor. It felt like falling, your knees knocked out from under you by the invisible string of his command that binds you to him. breath punches out of your lungs as you let yourself go under. art was already reaching out and grabbing the back of your head and shoving his cock past your waiting lips, pushing all the way to the hilt as his leaking head slammed into the back of your throat.

“god,” art breathed out, vice grip holding you in place. “You’re beautiful like this” and you were lost. years of built resentment and anxiety dissipating like smoke as art took over your senses. the taste of him, the smell of him, the warmth of him, the silk soft press of his cock down your throat. It was everything you’d been longing for from him.

your hands fly up to grip art’s waist, fingers trying to find purchase, pressing him deeper, holding him deeper, worried he might pull out but not able to hold yourself back. when art didn’t say anything, didn't tell you to stop, you sank forward and started to suck greedily, tongue running over art’s throbbing length, trying desperately to take him apart, to please him, to worship him, to give him what he wanted.

you heard yourself whine, felt your body sway forward, but you managed to hold yourself still, keep your tongue flat, keep your mouth wide and waiting, holding art still against the back of your throat, wanting desperately to prove you were good. that you loved him. That you wanted, wanted, wanted him.

"give me your hand,” art breathes, looking down at you, and you think briefly of the ancient greek god apollo, and how if art was a deity, you.d gladly stay right where you are. lovingly holding him in the back of your throat.

your mind was already starting to go fuzzy with the heavy weight of art on the back of your tongue, salt slowly leaking from his pink slit, the slow stretch of his your lips around art’s shaft starting to ache in your jaw. , but, still you had enough awareness to look up confused, meeting art’s eyes in a question. but art didn’t offer an explanation. just looked down at you, hand held out, patiently waiting, like it wasn’t a question of whether you would obey; it was just a matter of when.

shakily, your hand reaches out to his. by instinct or by pure coincidence, its the hand with your wedding band on it. your fingers brush against each other, and then arts fingers, lithe and strong, an athlete's fingers, slide between yours. he brings your clasped hands together against his chest. if your throat wasn’t stuffed with cock you’d gasp at the gesture, the intimacy of it alone. your palm against his bare chest, his right pectoral. right over his thunderous heartbeat. his wedding band presses against yours.

“Im gonna move, okay?” he breathes down at you, and his hand squeezes yours. “If you want me to stop just squeeze my hand two times.”

you nodded, a slight movement, eager and unbidden. art ran a finger under your jaw, fluttering his fingers against you. you had to shuffle a little to keep as much of art in your mouth as you could as he exhaled and used his free hand to slide against the back of your skull, cupping it tenderly.

a little punched-out gasp falls from arts lips as he slowly rocked his hips, pushingas deep as he could go as you moaned around him. art took a second, waited for you to look at him, blink the tears from your eyes, before he started the slow glide out of your mouth. you laid your tongue flat against the underside of him, tracing the veins, unable to move forward to chase him back down your throat as arts hand kept you firmly in place.

when he was all the way out, spit slick and gleaming, he rested the flushed head of himself against your bottom lip. rubbed himself there, traced every contour of your mouth with the slit of his cock. glossing your lips with the sheen of his precum.

“I love you.” he said - voice choked and you couldnt tell if it was from emotion or lust, maybe a combination of the two.

you felt something flare hot in your belly, but before you could utter a word, art was sliding back home, right back into the silk pallet of your throat. and you welcomed him greedily, lapping up every inch he gave you.

the whole while you held his hand, still pressed against his chest. you tilted open your jaw as wide as it could go, imagining you wanted to be a snake and swallow him whole. you took everything. you breathed through your nose when he was settled fully inside you - you sucked around him when he began to pull back, suctioning your mouth around him to mimic a pussy. a tight hole.

arent i such a good wife, you thought. no one could take his cock like you could. no one would drop to their knees and let themselves be used this way, but you would. to you, this was love. this was passion.

art lasted a few more minutes before he was dragging himself free from the warm hug of your throat -

“I want you spread out on the kitchen counter," art panted, jerking his chin. he reached down to wrap a loose hand around his wet cock, stroking it languidly. your throat ached with missing it. “I need to be inside you. I want to -” he swallows. “I want to fuck you."

you inhaled sharply. it was a word you didn't often hear from arts lips. especially in reference to sex. the crude word coming from him made your belly clench warmly. more, you wanted more of that.

you stared at each other for what felt like forever but was probably only a couple seconds, art’s cock still only inches from your face. you watched transfixed as art’s leaking head slipped between the tight circle of his fingers, flushed tip disappearing and pushing back through. It was filthy, it was gorgeous, and your whole body shuddered imagining what it would feel like at your entrance: the slow press, the slick head, the aching burn as it slowly pushed inside. because it would burn. the last time you’d had sex….. you didnt want to think about it.

Instead you hurriedly scrambled to obey. shoving the straps of your dress down as you went, feeling it pool around your waist as you bent against the cool marble of the counter. you’d never fucked here. suddenly that was a crazy thought to you. wasnt it a kind of ritual for a couple - to christen the house? your fingers curled into your palms as you pressed your bare chest down.

you felt art come up behind you and your breath hitched when you felt his palms skimming up the backs of your thighs. you hadnt realized you’d been trembling until that moment. something about his touch calmed you though.

ridiculous, to be shy when this was your husband. he’d seen your cunt a hundred times.

all thoughts fled your head when those familiar fingers parted the lips of your cunt - finding you wet. “baby” art’s strangled voice reached your ears as he felt through your delicate slit - he sounded beside himself with wonder. that you,d be this wet for him. this ready. he slid two fingers in easily - just a slight pressure at your entrance and there was a give of the flesh. and he was in - inside you. pumping steadily. “that’s it,” a kiss at the base of your spine, soft and special. “let me in. give me whats mine.”

yours, you dont know if you breathed it or just echoed it in your head. hips pushing back into him, opening yourself further. the stretch was full but it felt so right.

“god - you’re so responsive - how could i forget -” he was working himself up. his thumb nudged your clit, circled it with the pad before pressing down on it, his own goran covering up your keen. like it affected him more than it did you, to feel how you throbbed against him with need. “gonna put my tongue on your clit everyday and you’re going to let me. let me worship what i married, spread your legs and fucking take it-”

“oh god,” you’re whining. practically humping your cunt on his fingers. “whatever you want, baby. take it, its all yours.”

you clench around nothing when he suddenly yanks his fingers free, but you dont have to mourn the loss long, your empty spasming hole feeling the silken pressure of his cock in the next second. he grips your waist, wholly possessive as he drags you back onto him and, oh. Its so blissful. that tender ache in your cunt as its filled to the brim. You’d-

“fuck - i missed this - missed your pussy -”

yes, yes missed. you’d missed this.

art adjusts himself. spreads out his legs so he can really move, leans his broad chest over your back, covering you, smothering you, squishing you into the countertop but he doesnt care. you dont care. pinned beneath him and speared open like this - you’ve never felt more loved by him.

“so tight and warm - god - i never wanna leave -” he watches, pink lips parted where you’ve taken him. the flared open lips of your pussy hugging the base of his cock. a groan rips from his chest, loud, because he wants you to know, really fucking know, how overwhelmed he is, how much you make him feel, as he slowly drags himself out - only able to make it halfway before he has to bury himself back into that tight heat. your walls tighten and squeeze around him in these luxurious pulls and he feels spit pool in his mouth, the sensation enough to empty his brain. he rocks there, barely pulling free from the clutch of your body.

“treat me so well with this - little cunt - “ wet desperate kisses are pressed wherever he can reach, his mouth hungry for the salt of your skin. he pulls it between his teeth, some raw animal part of him just wanting to naw on you. he rubs his forehead against your shoulders as he starts to move his hips faster. finally pulling out all the way before he slams back in, knocking your hips into the hard marble, and he should say sorry, he should take more care, you’ll be bruised surely, but then his mind flits back to your therapy session - at the words you’d both said - how you felt - and the words exchanged in your fight. and he feels something kindle in his chest, sparked to life by the liquid heat pouring through him - you fucking - you’re so cruel sometimes and you dont even know - you dont even see what you’re doing to him, the power you hold, how much he’d give to you if only you’d fucking open up to him. get angry at him. demand more of what you want instead of fucking expecting him to read your goddamn mind.

he hadn’t felt the wet grip of his wifes pussy in months until just now. that couldn’t happen again.

he pulls himself to his full height - using his ringed hand to make a makeshift leash of your hair, wrapping it around his tan fist. anchors you back onto his hard dick again and again in hard punishing pulls that seem to punch moans from you.

“this is how i should have treated you from the beginning, huh? come home every day and bend you over the minute i step through the door. pound out all my frustrations on this tight cunt. use you to masturbate my dick.” he grunts - that viseral fury that’d you’d seen spark in him briefly before was back in full force now. you could feel it in the reverberating clap of his balls against your ass. the forceful grip on your hair, yanking your neck back, nearly pulling your chest off the counter, your tits bouncing. “maybe then you’d appreciate me.”

you dont know what part in you is broken that soaks his cock at his treatment instead of clamping up. his anger, his vitriol, it all speaks to a deep part inside of you that screams to be wanted. you whimper and bear down around him, meeting him instead of shying away.

“g - od - oh god, art - “

“would that make you my happy little wife?” he slows back down. drags his thick length in and out of you in purposeful rolls of his hips. “I bring all my shit to you and you devote this hot little pussy to warming my dick. you’ll take care of me, right? drop to your knees and give me a proper fucking welcome home.”

you cant think. your eyes are rolling back, your brain fogging. Its so good, oh god, how is it so fucking good. you’re drenched between your thighs, you can feel it running down your thighs. you can feel the hot raw part of your pussy that is being penetrated again and again on his cock as it retreats and then glides back in.

“Im gonna cum.” is all you can say. “art, im so close -”

“fuck,” he stops his movements. grinding his hips into yours, churning his dick inside you. his mouth skims your ear, he lets go of your hair to grip you around the throat. “tell me you love me. tell me you love me when you cum, baby, or i swear to god, i cant do this anymore -”

“I love you!” the words are the truest they’ve ever been in years. you’re on your tippy toes, squirming, trying to get away or trying to get closer, you cant tell. probably closer. you want art to carve apart for himself inside you - brand himself on you forever so you can never leave, never forget, never doubt this marriage. “I love you, i love you, i love you, i love-”

“I love you too. fuck - i need you to cum. cum on my cock and show me you still want this -”

you shatter apart. a million stars exploding in a galaxy. arts strong arms come around you like a band, wrapping you up against him as you shake. your breaths come out harshly in sync. the beats of your heart a fast thrum between you.

you turn your head, desperately seeking, and he’s there, already leaning down to take your lips in a kiss.

the weight of him still inside you is one you take comfort in. you dont want him to leave your body. you dont want this to end.

“stay,” you whisper against his mouth.

his hand cups your cheek, strokes his thumb over the swell of your flushed skin. “always,” he says back.

#ask #poppy fic #frens <3 #LMAO THIS TOOK ME HOURS AND ITS NOT EVEN 3K #wipes sweat from forehead #failmarriage au #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #challengers x reader #challengers smut

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navybrat817 · 1 year ago

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Easy as Pie

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cockwarming, slight body worship, sensory deprivation (blindfolding), established relationship, light D/s vibes, mention of insecurities, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #2 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks for suggesting soft Andy, @whisperlullaby (body worship and sensory deprivation) and @drabblewithfrannybarnes (cockwarming). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Baking was a hobby you enjoyed and what better time to make pies than in the fall? When you asked Andy that morning if he'd prefer to have a pumpkin or apple pie for dessert that evening, he told you to choose for him. It was tough for you to decide. For pumpkin, the earthy pleasant flavor and creamy filling was a wonderful contrast to the flaky trust. For apple, the sweet and tart combination was both delicious and complex.

After a quick mental debate, you decided to bake Andy one of each so he could have the best of both worlds.

“I guess I'll just have to surprise you,” you told him before he left for work.

“Either way, I'll still want you for dessert.”

You were looking forward to that.

It would've been easy for you to buy crust or filling from the store, but you preferred to bake from scratch. As tedious as it was to get the consistency right, it was fulfilling to see your progress from beginning to end. You also told Andy that baking engaged your senses, from touch to taste to smell. It relaxed you as well as energized you. It was almost like the aroma pushed you to the finish line.

By the time you finished baking and cleaning up, it was late afternoon. You were proud of how the pies turned out. Plus the smile on Andy's face when he walked into the kitchen was worth double the work.

“Right on time,” you smiled, removing your apron as he glanced over where the pies sat on display. “How was your day?”

“Better now that I’m home,” he said, loosening his tie before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. He brought his hands to your waist to hold you close, your body molding easily against his. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did, but it’s better now that you’re home,” you said in return.

“You had a good day baking a pumpkin and an apple pie for me?” He questioned as you nodded. “You spoil me, honey. Thank you.”

It was almost laughable that he considered you baking pies as spoiling him. He worked hard as a lawyer and was still a loving partner even with his often busy schedule. The least you could do was take care of him in some form, though you were certain you got the better end of the stick by being with Andy.

“Don’t thank me until you taste them. They may not be so great,” you teased.

The hands on your waist gripped you a little tighter. “Don’t do that.”

Self-deprecating was something Andy didn’t care for, especially when he knew how hard you worked. He understood that there would be days when you wouldn’t think the world of yourself, but he never wanted you to put yourself or your skills down. Even if you were joking and nothing more, he preferred that you saw the best in yourself. If you didn’t, he found ways to tell or show you how special you were.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” you said, shrinking slightly under his fierce gaze before you brushed your fingers along his thick beard. “I’m sure they taste great.”

“I’m sure they do, too,” he said, the blue of his eyes darkening as you moved your fingers to his hair. “Now say something nice about yourself.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you sifted through your thoughts, doing your best to find something positive to say that didn’t sound like you were bragging. “I put love into everything I do and that’s what counts.”

Andy’s piercing gaze softened as he gently held your chin, bringing a smile to both of your faces. “That’s how I know your pies will taste delicious. Because you made them with love.”

Praise was something you typically shied away from, but it was different with Andy. You welcomed the way warmth blossomed from your core and embraced how it spread from your head to your toes. “Double the love since you wouldn’t decide which one you wanted,” you said, his chest rising a bit as he chuckled. “Now you have to pick which one you want to try first. Unless you want to wait until after dinner.”

His brows pinched together slightly as he considered your question. He couldn’t go wrong with either. “I think I’d rather skip dinner and go right to dessert,” he answered, venturing over to the counter.

You watched as he carefully cut and plated a slice from both pies, your breath hitching when he licked some of the apple filling off his finger. He wasn't trying to seduce you at the moment, but it was working. “I don’t mind that at all,” you said as he went back to you, your fingers wrapping around his tie to have him close again. “And where would you like to have dessert?”

“In the living room,” he replied, running his free hand up and down your arm. “And there’s something else I want to try.”

“And what’s that?” You asked curiously.

“I want you to sit on my cock,” he began, bringing his hand back to your waist as you inhaled. It was always a good time for you when he wanted to play. “And I want to blindfold you.”

You whimpered, eager to give him what he wanted. Him robbing you of your sight as he stayed deep inside you would enhance everything else around you. Would his cock feel harder than usual? Would his hands and lips make you tremble more than normal?

“And you’re going to sit perfectly still while I have a slice of each pie,” he continued, his voice gruff as your breathing picked up.

“You want me to sit still while I keep you warm?” You questioned as he kissed your forehead with a smile.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he whispered, dragging his lips down to the tip of your nose. “You naked and blindfolded while my hands and mouth wander, letting me worship you as I eat those delicious pies you put so much care into.”

You made some sort of embarrassing sound at his words, wondering if was going to keep his suit on while you kept his cock warm. It was such a power move and one you loved exploring with him. While he was physically dominant over you, he was also verbally appreciative and tender. He loved you exactly the way you needed him to.

“Maybe I want to worship you, Andy,” you said. He deserved for you to love him the way he needed you to as well.

“Not tonight,” he said, a hint of dominance starting to seep in. There would be no arguing with him. “Not when I’m going to eat you out after I pump you full.”

Fuck.

“And what’ll happen if I don’t stay still?” You asked breathlessly, shivering when his mouth touched the corner of yours, his beard tickling your skin.

“You won’t come,” he replied, smirking when you took a step back and narrowed your eyes. “At least, not right away.”

“That's just mean, Mr. Barber,” you said with the smallest of pouts. He only edged you if there was a reason to do so. Though it wouldn't surprise you if he dragged it out for your self-deprecating comment earlier.

“I won't be mean tonight, but I will need you to be patient,” he said, nudging you toward the doorway. “Go to the living room and strip. I'll be there in a moment.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you smirked as you said, “Yes, Sir.”

The smirk fell as you began to undress in front of the couch with shaky hands. Though the curtains were drawn, the light in the room was bright enough that you wouldn't have a chance to hide from Andy's stare. The thought had your heart racing faster because he cherished every part of you. Any imperfection to you was a thing of beauty to him.

“Fuck, you really do spoil me.”

The rich timbre of Andy's voice made your hands fall to your sides, the ache between your thighs stronger as he walked toward you. Your nipples hardened as his eyes swept over you, like he actually touched you. It was embarrassing how wet you were when he hadn't laid a finger on you yet. You didn’t even close your eyes until he moved close enough that his nose brushed against yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips almost touching yours before he set the pie down. “You ready to take a seat or should I check?”

“I think you should check,” you said, opening your eyes as you widened your stance.

His gaze moved lower as he cupped your pussy, his fingers brushing along your slit. You were patient, letting him tease you when what you wanted was for him to stab his fingers deep. Watching him bring his glistening fingers to his lips to taste you seconds later, it was a feat your knees didn’t buckle.

He didn’t beckon you any closer as he lowered his pants and underwear, his cock springing free. His gaze devoured you still as he took a seat, lightly stroking himself with a moan as you stood there waiting. Your mouth watered at the thought of dropping to your knees and swallowing him down. It was another way to keep him warm. But he was in charge and what he wanted was your pussy.

You wouldn’t deny him.

“Come here,” he urged, taking your hand to help you into his lap. He stroked your thigh with his other hand as you straddled him. “Take me in.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you stared into his eyes as you lined him up with your entrance. Prolonged eye contact was another thing Andy taught you to appreciate. Watching the swirl of emotions in his eyes as you began to sink down made your heart almost beat out of your chest. Both of you sighed as you continued to move down, not wanting to go too fast. It would hurt him if you got hurt.

“Good girl,” he praised as you took a moment to appreciate how good he felt. He removed the tie from around his neck when you tightened slightly around him. You almost forgot he planned to blindfold you. “You let me know if this is too much, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. You never had to use your safeword with Andy, but knew he’d stop right away if anything made you uncomfortable. Communication was everything to him. “I trust you.”

He paused, a raw expression on his face as he didn’t reply. You framed his cheeks, wordlessly telling him that he didn’t have to speak. Trust wasn’t something either of you gave easily. Something about him made it easy. Maybe it was how deep your love for him ran.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick as he covered your eyes with the tie. He didn’t make it too tight, but you couldn’t see a thing. “Now be good for me.”

You gasped when one of his hands closed over your breast, your back arching to get more of his touch. You had to bite your lip to hold in your moans when his mouth enclosed around your nipple, his tongue suckling the hardened bud. Your cunt throbbed as he switched, giving equal care to each side with his hand and mouth.

“So lucky to have you,” he rasped as he released your nipple, your breathing heavy as you heard the fork scrape along the plate. Your cunt throbbed when he moaned, the sound filthy and deep. “Have a taste.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose, but Andy didn’t bring the fork to your mouth. He kissed you instead, making you cling to him as you tasted the spices on his tongue. It was stronger than normal, the flavor exploding in your mouth. You practically saw colors dancing behind your eyelids, giving various shades to the sweet taste he shared with you.

“Sweet just like your cunt,” he growled, arousal pooling in your gut as he moved his lips down your neck. Your hands were free, but you felt completely at his mercy. Your pleasure was in his hands. “Doing so well. Just keep me warm while I eat.”

You were desperate for more, but you stayed as still as you could. He kept a hand on you as he took bites, between gently grabbing your ass or rubbing your thigh. His lips and tongue touched wherever they could reach, bringing little whimpers out of you. The one thing he didn’t touch was your clit, which was begging for attention.

How long would he tease you?

“Andy, please,” you whispered, almost shifting in his lap in the hopes to get some relief.

“Almost done, honey,” he assured you, drawing a soft cry from you when he suddenly thrust his hips up. “You need me to fuck you, is that it? Can’t wait until I’m finished eating the dessert you made just for me?”

His finger brushed your clit only once and it was almost enough to hurdle you over the edge. Each touch, every lavishness of his attention, was pure ecstasy. “I-I want to make you feel good.”

“Honey, this is making me feel good,” he said, rocking his hips again as your chest heaved. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his gaze was hungry. “Watching you like this, letting me touch you, praise you. Don’t you feel how fucking hard I am?”

“I do,” you exhaled. You felt every inch of him along your sensitive walls. “Feels good.”

He kissed your cheek, the scent of cinnamon filling your nostrils. “You feel good. So wet and tight and it’s all for me. So fucking lucky to come home to you. Love you so much, honey.”

The fabric of his tie felt damp and you realized it was your sudden tears causing that. Between his words and how sensitive your body felt, it was a lot in a good way. “I love you, too,” you whispered once you took a breath.

He dragged his mouth to your ear as he brought his finger back to your clit, rubbing gently as you both groaned. “You want me to feel even better? Show me how good I make you feel. Drench me and I’ll fuck you with my cock and tongue.”

“Please, please, please,” you begged, gripping his arms in an almost bruising hold, determined to give him what he demanded.

“Come.”

That was your undoing, the tide washing you away as you drenched him the way he demanded. He quieted your cries with his mouth, swallowing them down for himself. You whined as he stopped rubbing your clit, the spasms from your walls still strong as he whispered how much he loved you.

You loved him, too.

“Beautiful,” he commented as you came down, allowing you to collapse against him as you caught your breath. His heart raced against your chest, almost as fast as yours beat. Pleasuring you pleased him and you wondered how you hit the jackpot with him.

“The pumpkin was good,” he began, running a hand up and down your back. “But I think I prefer the apple pie. It’s sweet, like you.”

You laughed breathlessly, making your walls spasm a bit around him. “Noted,” you said, reaching for the blindfold.

He stopped you before you could remove it. “Leave it on. I’m not done worshiping you yet,” he said, shocking you by tracing a bit of whipped cream on your lips. “And if you want my cream, you'll behave.”

He deserves the world! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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mit0bee · 1 year ago

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Twisted Wonderland boys sharing a tent with you!

Part 2 will come eventually probably most likely

Stuff you should read: Romantic intent! Was supposed to be bulleted but i got lazy, Setting is set in Camp Vargas 1/2 even though i havent actually read CV1 and im only on book 1 of CV2 *cries* leona favouritism because i didnt realise how long writing an entire events drabble would take, sleeping on the floor because i have never camped before and the idea of figuring out how this would work with sleeping bags makes me want to do bad things

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Malleus Draconia, Azul Ashengrotto, Lilia Vanrouge

(count how many times melora uses the word exhaustion challenge, go!)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

After thanking Ruggie and Epel for their help setting up yours and Leona's tent, it was time to help everyone else, so that the Spelldrive Club wouldn't get chewed out by Vargas.

Well… That's what you had in mind, before Leona pulled you down to the grass with him, ordering saying you should relax with him.

“Oi. Come sit down with me.”

“Leona, I have to help everyone else get set up.”

“They'll be fine without you. Now, come sit.”

Helping them would have to wait for whatever else was in store.

Once the first event was announced, and the three objectives were set, you were determined to help the Spelldrive Club at least a little. Pulling yourself from Leona, you decided to follow Ruggie and Epel through each objective.

After an exhausting 3 objectives, night had come, and everyone in the Spelldrive Club were relaxing by the campfire. Whether they be sharing stories, or cracking jokes, everyone was fairly lively for having just gone through the ringer. Everyone except Leona, A.K.A. the only one who didn't do anything, that is. He had his head resting on yours, half-asleep.

Ruggie was actually the one to point out that you two should go to bed, stating that you looked like hell, and that Leona was already snoozin'. So, you practically dragged Leona from the campfire, saying goodnight to Epel and Ruggie, and finally went to the confines of your tent.

Once you got in the tent, and got decently comfortable, Leona, who by this point was already asleep, attached himself to your back like a leech.

“….ve you.”

“Leo? Did you say something?”

“No. Go t' bed, Herbivore.”

he totally said ily then got to shy to admit it in his borderline sleeping state.

i love him

ok so i didnt realize how long these end up being sooooo the rest are gonna be just the tent shenanigans *sighs*

MALLEUS DRACONIA

Once you two got into the tent, you couldn't help but sit down with a sigh. Even though you two were part of an art club, it felt as if Vargas was just as hard on you as he was on the sports clubs.

“Child of Man, is something wrong? You seem down.”

You answered him with another sigh, “It's nothing. Today was just a little tough, is all.”

Malleus sat next to you, opening his arms, “Why don't we lay together, then? You seem to always feel better afterwards.”

Your face would light up ever so slightly, crawling from your spot and into his arms as he laid down. Your head was next to his chest, and you could easily feel his calm heartbeat through his attire. Eventually it was enough to lull you into a light slumber, yet through the drowsiness, you could feel Malleus' lips on your head with a few soft words.

“Goodnight, Child of Man. I love you.”

I AM SO IN LOVE

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Out of the two of you, Azul was the one to cave into exhaustion first. He practically flopped onto the tent floor the second he walked in. He was a mess. His face was beet red, his breath ragged, and he couldn't stand the thought of staying awake a single second longer.

With the last ounce of energy he had left, he grabbed your hand as he went down, pulling you with him.

“Wuh- Azul!”

“[Name]...” He groaned. Obviously the soreness and drowsiness was getting to him, “'m so tired.” He wrapped his arms around you, groaning again, “Let's sleep now.”

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, chuckling, “Okay. Goodnight, Azul.”

“Mmn. Night.”

You didn't see him this tired very often, but it seemed you'd have to find a way to see him like this again.

“[Name]!!! Azul! Look at this cool stone I found! +20 MP!”

Oh lord......

LILIA VANROUGE

Lilia was, surprisingly, nowhere near tired, even though he was decrepit. So, when you were sat at the campfire with the rest of the pop music club with your head on his shoulder, he chuckled.

"My. Are you falling asleep, [Name]?"

You shook your head insistently, "No. 'm not tired, just resting my eyes, is all."

You could practically see him laughing through your closed eyes, "Uh huh. Wise words from an old man such as myself; I can tell when someone is falling asleep. Oftentimes that person should go to bed."

You pulled yourself from dreamland and opened your eyes, "No, I'm awake. See? I was just resting m' eyes."

"More wise words; Fae can tell when humans lie."

Kalim gasped, "Wha?! Seriously?! That's so cool!"

Cater agreed, much to your chagrin, "You could totally be put on those lie detector shows! Those ones where they ask those suuuper toxic couples questions about each other!"

"Mmn. Is that true, Lilia?" You looked over to him. He had a minor habit of telling you something to prove a point , then taking it back.

He nodded, "Mhm. So we should get to bed, right?"

You slowly nodded. As much as you could deny it, nothing could get past Lilia the Lie Detector. You stood up while rubbing your eyes. Lilia waved goodbye to his club members, retreating with you to your tent.

The second your head hit the pillow that Vargas had so kindly given the arts groups, you were asleep. Lilia gazed upon your sleeping form, smiling softly. Fae couldn't actually detect lies, but you didnt need to know that. All you needed to know was that he knew you very well. You two were together, after all.

He laid next to you, admiring you, and how your body rose and fell with each calm breath, and how your hair fell to frame your face beautifully, and especially the drool trickling from your mouth already.

He would definitely have to tease tell you about that tomorrow.

AAAHHHHHHH FIRST EVER POST!!! Did you guys like it? I'm hoping to write some more in the future, including a second post to this one! currently, sebek, jack, and floyd kinda have a chokehold on me so they'll probably be in the second part! --------------- m.list @mit0ee 's work, please do not steal!

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #leona kingscholar x reader #twst fluff #leona x reader #Malleus draconia x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #Malleus x reader #azul x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

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honeyhotteoks · 11 months ago

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this night together - chapter ten (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter ten: the truth

chapter summary: seonghwa needs a friend and you say goodbye to your friends and goodbye to them as tour begins.

warnings: nothing too explicit except there is a frank discussion about alpha/omega/beta dynamics and pack dynamics that somewhat mirror real life lgbtqia+ issues like family not being accepting, societal pressures, etc.

notes: thank you all for waiting for me, i can't thank you enough honestly. it took a while to push through and get through the middle of this fic, but we're there. today (12.3) is a special update day, i'm posting three chapters - ten, eleven, and twelve. make sure you're reading in order starting here!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 5k

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3

Surprisingly the next few weeks pass with relative ease. It’s not painful like before, the crushing weight of their cold isolation. This time you all know exactly where you stand, and with you asking them for space it feels like you’re a little more in control of when and how the next conversation with them occurs.

You spend the weeks working, keeping things cordial in the studio, and seeing your friends. Keeping things busy gives you less time to step back into that studio room and wonder what you should have done differently, so you fill your schedule up to the brim. In looking forward to the tour and the impending lack of your social circle, you start to reach out little by little to other members of the BB Tripping group too.

There’s a gap in your life without them, but for now that has to be okay. For now, you grow your life in every other way you can.

You’re able to focus on everything else until Seonghwa calls.

Little cafe meetups aren’t out of the ordinary for you both, but meeting at a new spot halfway across Seoul is. You’re normally so attached to the neighborhoods around the studio, so the idea that you’d actually have to take the subway and follow directions on your phone sends little warning signals up your back. He sounded mostly fine on the phone, but something a little whispered in his tone left you agreeing to meet immediately.

He said he just wants to see you one more time before the tour, but you feel the strange bubble of pretense around the whole set up. When you finally get there, after thirty minutes and much confusion, he meets you at the door with a clear expression of relief. He buys you a coffee and a fancy tiered pastry, and then shuffles you towards the empty, far end of the cafe.

“The trip wasn’t too bad?” He checks as he pulls out your chair, “I wanted to try this place,”

A smooth lie, but you’ll let it go, “It was fine,” you assure him, “this street is cute,”

“Mm,” He nods.

You have so, so many questions, but you start small, “Three months,” you sigh, settling into the seat, “it feels kind of weird,”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa pushes your chair in and takes his own seat, “it’s hard to pack for a tour,”

“I can’t even imagine,” You grimace.

“You get really sick of miniature toiletries after about a week,” He says, “and you’d think that all the travel would be great, but you end up sitting in hotel rooms most of the time.”

“Well,” You shrug, “you can always call me for an update on the studio,”

“Oh, I will,” He laughs, “the time difference is pretty tough though,”

“Still,” You insist, “we’ll make it work.”

Silence lulls between you, he nods at your words but doesn’t say much else, and you watch as he fingers fiddle with the handle of his cup, restless and seemingly on edge. He needs something, you just don’t know what.

“Seonghwa,” You murmur, “is everything okay?”

“Yes,” He drops his hand into his lap, “completely fine,”

You chew the inside of your lip, wondering whether to press him, “Are you sure?”

He looks down for a moment and then nods, “Everything is fine, but I wanted to talk to you about something,”

“Okay,”

“Me and San,” He says in a rush of exhaled breath.

“Oh,” Your eyes widen, completely blindsided by his words. You thought if he chose to share this with you it would be months, years even. He was so closed off after your heat that you assumed you’d let it lie, just like Wooyoung, but here you are.

“You said I could talk to you about this,” He continues when he sees your expression, “but if,”

“Of course you can,” You shake off your expression as fast as you can, “I just didn’t know that’s what you were going to say.”

“It’s just that I’ve been thinking a lot about it,” He says, “especially considering everything you’ve been dealing with,”

You nod, but keep quiet.

“I don’t know, I thought it would be good to get it out there,” He confesses.

“Then I’m here, I’m listening,” You lean forwards, nodding again in encouragement.

He takes a moment to get his words together, and it suddenly makes sense why he wanted to try a cafe in a neighborhood neither of you lived or worked near. He reached out to you to talk about this, to finally share with someone, and he wanted to be one hundred percent sure no one from your lives would overhear.

“Our thing,” Seonghwa nods and you know he means his relationship with San and Wooyoung, “it started off a lot like yours.” He doesn’t need to say their names, you know who he means.

You smile, “Accidental and stressful?”

“Definitely accidental,” He nods, “we had been friends for years, and Wooyoung always dealt with his heats outside of work and without us really knowing much about it,”

“Really?” You find that hard to believe with how much he overshares.

“Mhm,” Seonghwa turns the cup on his saucer one way and then back the other as he figures out how to start. “Usually anyways, but about two years ago he was out for his heat leave like normal, and he called San in a panic. The alpha he arranged to meet flaked out on him and he was too far gone at some heat hotel in Incheon. He didn’t have anything he needed, the alpha was supposed to bring it all,”

“God,” You grimace at the thought.

“Exactly,” Seonghwa nods, “he was in a lot of pain and he was really scared,”

“Of course,”

“San called me,” Seonghwa explains, “he was nervous about spending Wooyoung’s heat with him, even though he agreed.”

You nod, but stay quiet to give him the space to continue.

His eyes dart down, a little unfocused as he sinks into the memory of it, “He was so concerned about hurting Wooyoung or doing the wrong thing, and he was begging me to give him advice. Advice just turned into me offering to drive him to Incheon and helping him shop for supplies, and before you knew it I was up in the room with them both.”

“Wooyoung was okay with that?” You ask.

He nods, “Wooyoung was fine, more interested in making sure neither one of us was uncomfortable between his heat spikes,”

You nod again.

Seonghwa looks back up to you then and sighs, “Before Youngie’s heat, I had a bit of a crush on San. It was really nothing, just a bit of a flirtation in my mind. Someone to think about alone at night, you know,”

“Yeah,” You think of Yunho for a brief, flashing second and the way you used to watch him around the studio.

“But that heat changed everything,” He smiles, a little sadly, “I think you know what I mean.”

You fight the urge to reach across the table and take his hand, fearful that you might break his willingness to open up.

“The funny part,” He says, a fresh crease between his brows, “is that San felt the same way. We both knew alpha pairings were a little unorthodox, but for a while we didn’t care. We carried on for a few months, but we kept it quiet so it didn’t interfere with work or any of our friendships.”

Your eyes widen.

“Wooyoung still doesn’t know about that part,” He says quietly, “so I’d appreciate it if you kept that between us,”

“Of course, Hwa,”

“Things started to go further though. We were going on dates without calling them dates, sleeping at each other’s places, leaving things behind. We were texting all the time, sneaking kisses in the locker room,” He explains, “we just couldn’t leave each other alone.”

He goes quiet again, and this time you do reach across the table, resting your hand over his twitching fingers, “What happened?”

He swallows tightly and he looks away again, but his hand turns under yours to press your palms together, “One morning San asked if I wanted to spend the weekend in Namhae, he missed his family and thought it would be nice if we all spent some time together.”

“Oh,” You breathe, the pieces of their story falling together in front of you so easily.

“I couldn’t do it,” He confesses, “and I said some things I shouldn’t have. I told him that I loved him, but that our friendship was what mattered to me, and that we were kidding ourselves by not trying to find omegas of our own.”

Your cringe, “Seonghwa,”

“I know,” He breathes, his head dropping, “it was cruel.”

“Your relationship,” You squeeze his hand, “what you had with San wasn’t wrong, you know that right? It’s perfectly,”

His head snaps up, “I know it’s not wrong.”

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room at the expression in his eyes, fierce determination as he snaps to defend himself. You stay silent.

“I’m sorry,” He shakes his head, pulling his hand back, “I do know that, that’s not why I broke it off.”

“Then,”

“My family is very traditional,” Seonghwa says, “they believe that alphas and omegas are made as a perfect match. They believe that every alpha has a destined omega and that a bond, a claim, should be between one alpha and one omega only.”

“That’s so,” You trail off, unable to really form the words. Traditional is a kind, sanitized word for what it is. You would have said bigoted, downright prejudicial, and your chest aches at the idea that he grew up cocooned in that kind of indoctrination.

“Hypocritical,” His cheek twitches, “considering my parents loathe each other.”

You smile at that, “I’m sorry,”

He shrugs, his cool exterior slotting back into place, “It’s a shame that we’re not a scent match, honestly. My parents would be so proud of me if I brought you home,”

You take his hand again, brushing smoothly past his comment, “Are they so traditional they don’t believe in packs either?”

“That’s worse,” He crinkles his nose, “to them.”

Packs have always been a little controversial, especially with the rise in beta designations and the decreasing likelihood that omegas will find a true honest-to-god scent match, but it’s not unheard of. Polyamory and packs have started to crop back up in popular media, and it’s becoming more and more common to see an omega paired with two or more alphas despite the traditionalist view that it’s a return to baser, more primal instincts. You were raised knowing packs were an option, but as you listen to Seonghwa and understand his past, you know everything for him was the opposite.

“I really am sorry,” You murmur, “it must have been difficult to grow up surrounded by that mindset.”

He nods, and then takes a long sip of his untouched coffee.

The threads are coming together more clearly, but there’s still a question lingering in your mind and the words leave you without any real consideration, “If you don’t believe that, then why break it off with San?”

He grimaces, “My parents are fairly wealthy,”

Your stomach turns icy.

“And you know the money in dance isn’t exactly overwhelming,” He explains, “they’ve always offered their financial support to me, but it’s incredibly conditional.”

“Hwa,” You breathe.

“San thought I chose the money over him,” Seonghwa leans back in his chair, separating your hands again and resting his wrists on the edge of the table, “I tried to explain the situation to him, I tried to apologize for what I said and ask him for more time… time to figure everything out and to be able to be financially independent from them, but all he heard was that I wasn’t willing to lose the money.”

You shake your head, but he keeps going.

“You know how he is, he’s more headstrong than anyone I’ve ever met. Once he has an idea, there’s no telling him differently.” Seonghwa explains.

“But it’s not true,” You’re suddenly so frustrated with Choi San you could wring his neck.

“It is what it is, y/n,”

“But,” You trail off, deflated, “aren’t you still seeing each other?”

“No,” He says firmly, “only for Wooyoung’s heats.”

“And that’s what? Working out fine?” Your eyebrows dart up.

“For now,” He sighs, “and I’m under no big illusion that he’s going to forgive me and we’re going to go riding off into the sunset. He told me he wanted to be friends and he wanted us to continue being there for Wooyoung and we just let it go back to the way it was, and honestly,” his voice softens, “I’ll take some of him, even if I can never have all of him.”

“Oh, Hwa,”

His eyes are a little watery, but it clears quickly and he clears his throat, “Anyways, that’s it. That’s the tragic little story.”

“That’s just not fair,” You shake your head, “you should be together,”

He shakes his head, “Maybe, but I’m not willing to risk losing what I do have.”

“If San understood,” You start.

“Listen,” He cuts you off, “I know it seems like there should be this big movie scene, where we both admit we hurt each other and put it all behind us, and build a little pack together and have lots and lots of babies, but I just don’t think that’s going to happen. I’ve made peace with that.”

You can see plainly that he hasn’t, but in the same way he doesn’t push you on your relationship with Yunho and Mingi, you take a calculated step back from pressing down on this particular nerve.

“Okay,” You say, “well then thank you for telling me, and I’m here if you ever need to talk about it.”

“Thank you,” The air leaves him in a relieved rush.

“And Woo doesn’t know?” You’re hard pressed to believe that.

He shrugs lightly, “He knows something, we’ve spent enough heats together for him to see what’s there, but it’s not something we discuss.”

“Got it,” You murmur.

“And you?” He turns the conversation back with ease, “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

You nod, “I’m just going to leave it for a while. I’ll apologize when they come back and the air is cleared a little,”

“Apologize?”

“They’re not the only ones who’ve messed things up,” You tell him honestly, “and if I could take back what I said, I would.”

“Me too,” Seonghwa smiles softly.

“Besides,” You lean back in your chair, “you’ll all be gone tomorrow, and I’m sure I’ll talk to you and Woo and San, but you’ll be busy and in a completely different timezone. It’ll be for the best,”

“Maybe a change of scenery will be good for them,” Seonghwa adds.

“I hope so,” You murmur.

“I’m honestly surprised they haven’t said anything to me,” He points out, “but it’s been the same as always,”

“Really?”

He nods, smiling a little, “I thought for a second Mingi was being a little cold, but he just had earbuds in and couldn’t hear me,”

You laugh sharply, “Well,” you shrug, “I really gave it to them. Maybe they realized being jealous isn’t a good look, especially if we’re ever going to get the chance to be friends or try this again with a clean slate.”

Seonghwa chews at the inside of his lip for a moment and then sighs, “y/n, do you want to know what I really think?”

You dip your head, gesturing for him to continue.

“I think they’re idiots, and I think they acted like assholes and you deserve an apology for it,” You can sense that there’s something more and he continues, “but I’ve made those mistakes. I’ve pushed away someone I care about, I’ve said the wrong things, and I’ve had a hell of a time trying to patch it back together.”

Your stomach twists.

“I’m not telling you what to do,” He says, “but I’ve known Yunho and Mingi for a long time. I see the way they look at you, the way they talk about you. There’s more than just an attraction there, there’s something real for all of you.”

“That’s the part that’s terrifying,”

“Yeah,” He nods, “and you know, maybe don’t take advice from me, the guy whose love life is beyond a mess, but I also don’t want you to regret anything here.”

You reach for his hand again and take it without hesitation.

“I just need to think it through,” You say softly, “and then be brave,”

Seonghwa nods. You think that maybe if you can be brave, he can too, but you both let that thought lie in the space between you untouched. You don’t need to press him, not after everything he just shared with you and how much more you’re sure is there under the surface, but the thought is still understood by you both just the same.

“I know you’ll do what’s best for you,” Seonghwa adds after a moment, “but until then,”

“Until then let’s not think about it anymore,” You finish his words for him.

He takes another deep breath, and you can see the way telling his secret has lifted something away from his shoulders. He takes another long sip of his coffee and then finally he says, “Do you have anything else you’re doing today?”

You shake your head.

“Want to wander around and help me buy unnecessary travel accessories?” He grins.

“Seonghwa,” You squeeze his hand, “I would love nothing more,”

“Great,” He runs a hand through his hair, “then let’s go back to Hongdae, I don’t know any of the stores over here.”

“You owe me a train ticket,” You nudge him as you start to gather up your things.

“I bought you a coffee,” He points out, standing with you.

“You always buy my coffee,”

“Fine,” He rolls his eyes but you can see that it’s playful, “I’ll buy you a little thank you present for coming all the way out here,”

“That’s more like it,” You tease, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes and giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “now let’s go home,”

Despite your long goodbye afternoon with Seonghwa, it’s harder to really say goodbye to them all on the day than you thought it would be.

When the last practice before their flight is over, everyone dressed in their coats and hats and ready to go for the night, all of the BB Trippin crew lingers in the front entrance hall. Well wishes, talks of food to try, jet lag tips, the weather. You try to ignore the full suitcases by the door.

It isn’t until the very last moment that the real feeling of it starts to sink in.

Wooyoung’s arms are banded tightly around you when the realization of just how long three months is barrels over you in full force. You take a hitched little breath hiding in his shoulder and get your emotions in check, but it’s starting to become readily apparent now. You’re going to miss them, not just your friends, but them too.

There’s a part of you that fantasizes about throwing up your hands and confessing all your conflicting feelings, chasing them down in the airport like an old movie and laying it all on the line, but you’re not going to actually do that. It’s not fair to anyone if you do something like that. You laid out boundaries for the past few weeks, they more than respected them, and you have no doubt they’ll stay silent over the next few months just like you requested.

“I’m not going to war,” Wooyoung laughs, squeezing you back once as he tries to extricate himself from your arms, “it’s just tour,”

“No, I know, I know,” You clear your throat softly, “I’m going to miss you though,”

“Me too,” He smiles, running a hand through his hair as he steps back.

When you step back from him, Mingi and Yunho are closer than they were a few moments ago and they’re keeping their eyes elsewhere but you can’t let them go without a single word. You can’t. If anything happens to them you’d regret it so deeply, and your hand shoots out to brush along Mingi’s arm.

His eyes flash with recognition for a second, but he remains cool and calm when he turns to you and you watch Yunho follow suit.

“Have safe flight,” You manage, your chest tight at the idea that this is really it.

“You too,” Mingi says and then he sighs as he realizes his mistake, “not flight, obviously,”

“Right,” You smile, his awkwardness breaking the tension between you so easily.

“Be safe here,” Yunho offers, correcting the sentiment, “and good luck with all the debut preparation, I know it’ll go smoothly with you and Dahan handling things,”

Your chest warms, “Thank you, Yunho,”

He nods and then takes a step back, and suddenly there’s nothing more to say.

“Well, we should go,” Yunho clears his throat, “goodbye, y/n,”

“Bye,” You manage.

“Bye, y/n,” Mingi nods, turning to take the handle of his suitcase from Yunho.

They start towards the door, and you offer a final goodbye, and then a hand in the middle of your back draws your eyes to the side at Seonghwa.

“Safe flight,” Seonghwa murmurs the tease low into your ear as he gives you a fast hug.

“Shut up,” You shove him as subtly as you can.

He smiles, a little mischievously, “I’ll text you when we land.”

“Good,” You nod, “get some sleep on the plane,”

He salutes as he steps back and drops an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, “Yes, ma’am,”

You roll your eyes more obviously this time, but before they continue their teasing, Wooyoung tugs his friends closer to the door, “Alright, alright, I’m exhausted and our cab’s outside,”

“Bye, y/n,” Seonghwa calls over his shoulder as Wooyoung shoves him out the door, and you can hear San laughing from just outside, Yunho’s voice echoing beside it.

Movement from the door draws your eye, and Mingi hitches his duffle bag up over his shoulder. His lips quirk up in the smallest smile, and he waves, just a little.

You wave back with a nod, and then he’s gone.

The studio moves forward just the same. Quieter, but the same.

You and Dahan spend your time focused on the debut, and despite how much you think of them for just a flicker before you drop off into sleep every night, your body is so tired from work that your mind never dwells for too long.

Weeks pass around you in a busy blur

Three months doesn’t seem so long as it whips by around you, not unless you really let yourself slow down and think about it. You still get updates from your friends as they hop from city to city, photos online of New World where you can see your best friends in the back, and then their Instagram updates of every new strange dish they try.

Yunho and Mingi stay quiet, just like you needed, until one night they don’t.

The email sitting unread at the top of your inbox was sent three days ago. You rarely check your inbox, and there’s a real chance you would have missed this message entirely, but you just happened to be looking for an authentication code at the exact right time and there’s no mistaking what this email is when you stumble across it. There’s no subject, but there is a little preview pane of the first line and your breath catches in your throat when you see it.

y/n - You said don’t text and don’t call, but you never said don’t email.

Your heart tightens in your chest and you double check the email address. You don’t have it saved, but just know it’s Mingi. You need a drink for this. You step away from your desk and run your hands through your hair, heart beating fast, and you try to decide what to do as you leave your room for a breath and a glass of anything.

You pour some wine with shaky hands, the quiet of your apartment feeling so loud around you. If you open it, you won’t be able to live in an ignorant little bubble anymore. You could delete it, really put your foot down about no contact and keep moving on. You could do that.

You’re back at your desk seconds later with your cursor hovering over the email.

He’s not wrong. You never said don’t email.

With a gulp of wine for courage, you press down and brace yourself.

y/n -

You said don’t text and don’t call, but you never said don’t email. I’m not sending this so you’ll reply, I’d prefer if you didn’t, but honestly I’m not always the best at saying something in the moment. Please forgive this.

I’ve thought a lot about us the past few weeks and I wanted you to know that I understand why you’re confused. It was hard to see it before. Something made me insane when you said you slept with Seonghwa, and I can see how all that alpha shit would make sense, but that wasn’t it. Not all of it anyways. I’ve spent so much time thinking it through and what really upset me wasn’t that you were with somebody else or even that it was him. I was so fucking mad at myself for letting us go back to being friends. Especially now that I know you wanted us too and we wrecked it. I feel like a fucking coward, and I swear to god I’ve never been a coward before. You make me feel things and do things that make no sense. It’s hard to make sense of anything when we’re together except that I like being with you.

These things are so much easier to say when you’re not here. Yunho’s better at this kind of thing, and you’re so good at it sometimes I can’t keep up.

I want to say that I’m sorry for all of it. I really didn’t do any of it right. You didn’t choose us that night but you did trust us, you trusted me and I’ve done nothing but hurt you since that weekend ended. I thought you wanted to go back to being friends, but when I saw you at the studio the day after I couldn’t do it. I thought if I talked to you I would just cross too many lines, I didn’t realize how much more I wanted from you until you left. But I thought about how much it would hurt you if I pushed it too far at work, and then I thought about how much it would hurt Yunho if you wanted me and not him. Or how much it would hurt me if it were the other way around. Or what would happen if you didn’t want us at all?

I think I should tell you that Yunho and I didn’t talk for a few weeks either, not really. I think we were all just waiting for the other person to say something, but the whole time we were hurting you. I’m so sorry for that.

I feel bad about the kiss too. I just panicked, I didn’t know what to do to make you stay. I know it wasn’t the right time, so I’m sorry for that too.

Yunho is sorry too by the way. Someday if we ever talk about this, he’ll tell you himself, but he’s my best friend and I just have to tell you that he hates himself for how he treated you. He’d be so pissed if he knew I was sending this to you, but you have to know it.

I feel like there’s so much more I could say… things that I want the chance to explain to you, things about how I felt before we ever got together, but you said we missed our chance and I have to learn how to respect that. That’s why I don’t want you to respond to this letter. I wanted to send this because I don’t think I can do this face to face right now, I tried to be honest in the studio that night and all I did was make it worse. I hope you at least read this and can understand that, and I promise I won’t write to you again.

I want you to know that Yunho and I talked, and we agreed on what to do. We won’t reach out, we won’t push you. When we come home, we’d like the chance to be friends again like we were. We want you to feel comfortable with us again and to trust us again. I know we missed our chance, but being friends with you is always going to be better than nothing.

We care a lot about you. I hope through all the noise you can still feel that.

While we’re away please be safe and be happy.

Please don’t respond. Mingi

You read it again, and again for good measure. After the fourth time you close your laptop tight and leave it far away from you. You want to tell him that you’re sorry too, that they’re not alone in making mistakes after your heat and that you all fucked it up together. A perfect mix of insecurity and biology and doubt and fear boiling over to make sure none of you opened up to each other and just said what you wanted. But you don’t say any of that.

You’ll tell them when they’re home.

For once you think the right thing to do is to listen.

You don’t respond.

a/n: reminder, i am no longer doing taglists as they became too unruly to properly maintain. please turn on post notifs, check my blog regularly, or subscribe on ao3 to get immediate updates.

#this night together fic #honeyhotteoks fics #ateez #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #yungi x reader #ateez ff #ateez fic #yunho fic #yunho ff #mingi fic #mingi ff #ateez series

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schoopsahoy · 2 years ago

Text

i’ve been dying to get you dizzy

steve harrington x roller-rink!reader {5.8k} part 2 to whip it you and steve have been casually dating for a few weeks now, he’s trying to take things slow but then you invite him to stay the night. 18+ mdni steve still being a simp for reader. fluff/smut. no use of y/n. reader uses she/her pronouns.

cw: fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex

The sight of Steve leaning against his car in the parking lot of your work is still one that makes you a little giddy. The pink and gold of the sky cascading down on him in a soft light, reflecting off his skin and dousing him in a warm glow was something straight out of a movie, the boy lit up all golden and auric as he waits for you to finish your shift.

You practically skip over to him, holding onto the strap of your bag to keep it in place on your shoulder as you cross the warm concrete. “Hey, Stevie.” You beam, instantly throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him to pull him in for a hug.

Steve would never admit to anyone that he lets you call him Stevie, let alone that he likes it. The way you say it always coated in affection that warms his chest. “Hey, you. How was work?” His words are muffled into your hair as he hugs you tighter, arms around your waist.

“Looks pretty bad, sweetheart.” He frowns at the injury, hand instinctively moving to yours to run his thumb over the back of it.

“S’pretty sore, but makes me look tough, don’t ya think?” You shrug, a little grin on the corners of your mouth.

“Super tough.” He nods in agreement, mirroring your smile. Every time you two were together, Steve felt like it was a little too good to be true. Everything you said or did seemed so effortless but it still had his mind running crazy, his heart even more so. Ever since you started hanging out, away from your work or the prying eyes of his friends, he had to remind himself that it was all real and you genuinely wanted to see him. He’d made a mental note to take things slow, to not fuck this up or scare you off, but it was harder than it sounded when you were next to him all sugared up smiles and gentle touches.

“I know I said we should go for food tonight but I’m totally spent.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, twisting your body from side to side a little and making the hem of your skirt shift higher against your thighs. “D’you want to just get a take out? You can stay over too, if you want? Save you driving back in the dark.”

Steve feels like he’s been shocked, his entire body buzzing with something - excitement, maybe? Or nerves, or a mix of the two most likely. “Sure we can, whatever you want.” He hopes you don’t notice how hard he had to focus to force the words out, praying they came out casual and not in a croak of nerves.

“You’re the best, Stevie.” You go on your tip-toes to kiss him again, tasting like bubblegum and cherries and sweets and all the other sugary things you should have in moderation, something Steve doesn’t think he can manage with you. “And you’ll stay?” Your eyes are big and bright as you look up at him through your lashes, a hopeful smile on your face that he knows he has no chance of turning down.

“As long as you want me to.” He gives your hand a light squeeze.

“Of course I do, silly, S’why I offered.” You squeeze his hand back before letting go to finally make your way to the passenger side, Steve making sure he gets there first so he can open the door for you. It’s the sweet little gestures that have your heart beating faster, simple acts of devotion that seem so insignificant from the outside but are really unspoken words of so much more.

It’s not a long drive to your place from the rink, only about 15 minutes if you get lucky with traffic. Steve’s hand finds its place on your thigh for most of the journey, his touch barely there but still comforting. You occasionally trace along his fingers, or around its outline on your skin, just mindless touches whilst you listen to him talk about his day. You think you could just sit and watch him forever, have him talk about anything and you’d listen.

You direct Steve around the streets of your hometown, he’d picked you up from work a few times now but you usually spent your time together in Hawkin’s. Your apartment is along Main Street, a little one bed that sits above a flower shop. It’s not much, but you’d been determined to move out and be independent whilst you’re in college so you’re content with the small space you got to call your own.

“There’s a little lot around the back of the shops you can park in, just turn down here.” You lean forward in your seat to point to the small side road, Steve nodding and following your instructions to lead you both into the car park.

Steve pulls into the spot you point out, the one closest to the metal steps that lead up to your door. Now he’s here, in front of your place where he’s agreed to spend the night, his breathing gets a little quicker. He tries to keep it quiet, not wanting you to notice that he’s slightly freaking out.

“C’mon handsome, the takeout won’t order itself.” You grin at him, your house keys dangling on your pointer finger along with a collection of keyrings that all jangle together and glisten in the evening sun. You open the passenger door and step out the car, standing at the bottom of the staircase whilst Steve locks his car.

Steve takes a moment whilst locking up to try and chill himself out, a few deep breaths and words of encouragement muttered to himself. Though he’s not too sure “get it together” counts as encouragement, either way he needs to hear it.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit messy, I would’ve tidied up more if I knew I’d have company.” You look back to Steve as you climb the stairs, the old metal clanking with each step til you reach the top.

“You don’t have to apologise.” Steve shakes his head at you, you could open the door to a bomb site and he wouldn’t mind as long as he’s with you.

You have to fiddle with the lock a little to get it open, the door’s pretty old and probably rusted so the key needs to be twisted and lifted at an angle to get it to work. You get it after a few tries though, and push the door open to let yourself and Steve in.

“Ta-da.” You sing as you hold the door open for Steve, letting him step into your living room before closing it behind him.

The flat is small, but you‘ve filled it with fresh flowers and cosy furnishings to brighten it up. Candles dotted around the room on whatever surface they can fit on, next to little ceramic and glass trinkets and photos of you and your friends. It feels like home, a space you’ve cultivated as your own that nobody can take away from you.

Steve thinks it’s perfect, really, because he can tell it’s yours. The flowers and vanilla candles mix together so the room smells sweet, and everything looks soft and inviting. Your college books strewn across the coffee table, plush blankets hung over the arm of the couch, it was all another insight into your world that he was so desperate to be a part of.

“I can’t believe you think this is messy.” He chuckles, looking around the room again to take in all the little details.

“Wait til you see my bedroom, then you’ll change your tune.” You shrug your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor near the door, toeing your shoes off so you’re just left with your knee high socks on your feet.

Steve can’t even bring himself to think about seeing your bedroom, that idea pushed so far back into the corner of his mind so he can remain functional. “I bet it’s fine, you’re just dramatic.” He teases, trying to play off the fact he’s still in awe about being in your home.

“That’s true, I am.” You smile at him, no offense taken from his words because you can see the soft smile on his lips and the doting tone that always seems to be there when he speaks. “So, what d’you want? Pizza? Or there’s a Chinese not far that’s pretty good?” You pad across the room to the kitchen, the open plan layout meaning you can still see Steve as you root through one of the cupboards for menus. You hold them up when you find them, waving them in the air before you move back and hand them to him.

“You don’t wanna pick? You’re the one who’s been working all day.” He strokes the back of your hair gently with his free hand, you instantly leaning back into his touch.

You shake your head at his offer. “You’re the guest, you pick.”

Steve sighs a little, all sweetness at your offer. “Pizza sounds good. You happy with that?”

“Mhm, pick what you want and I’ll call ‘em.” You tap your nails against the menu in his hand, the vibrations running up his arm and making his hairs stand up.

It takes you both a little while to settle on an order, going back and forth about what you both want and finding a middle ground. You keep trying to tell Steve to choose what he wants and you’ll work around that, but Steve was far more concerned about you getting what you wanted. It was a lot of talking in circles til you both eventually settled.

Steve insists on paying when it arrives, too, despite your best efforts to at least go halves.

“Just take the money, Steve.” You hold the dollars out to him, trying to tuck them into his pocket when he shakes his head at you.

“Stop, stop.” Steve laughs, trying to dodge your hands whilst holding onto the pizza box. “If this falls we’ll have to do that all over again.”

You furrow your brow a little, pouting up at the boy. “Fine, but I’m getting it next time.” You flop yourself down on the couch with a dramatic sigh, shuffling your college textbooks to one side on the coffee table so the pizza box can fit. “Oh, wait, d’you want plates?” You go to stand up again but Steve shakes his head at you.

“I’ll get ‘em, where are they?” He sets the food down and walks into the kitchen.

“Cupboard above the sink.” You call through, watching him pull a couple of plates out and bring them back to you. “You’d make a great housewife.” You grin, taking one of them off him.

“I know, thinking of changing careers.” Steve sits himself down next to you, his leg pressed against yours so you can feel the rough denim on your skin.

“You’d look great in a frilly apron.” You lean forward to open the box, pulling out a slice of pizza for yourself and putting it on your plate.

“Yeah, you think?” Steve grins at you and helps himself to a slice.

“Mhm, real handsome.” You kiss him on the cheek before taking a bite of your food. “And I could be the breadwinner.”

“Oh I’m gonna be your housewife?”

“Obviously, I get first dibs.”

Steve smiles at you, all fondness and it makes your chest feel a little tight with how much you like it. “Yeah, you do.”

You end up watching a movie after your food, letting Steve root through the small pile of tapes that sit next to your tv set. They’re pretty old, most picked up in flea markets or taken from your family home. Most of them are horror films which makes Steve laugh, you feel like the personification of sunshine but your taste in movies is the complete opposite of that.

“You got anything lighthearted?” He turns his head to look at you from where he’s sat on the floor, you still sat on your couch with a blanket thrown over your lap.

“I’ve got Grease.”

“So the options are scary movies or Grease?”

“Withhold your judgment, Harrington.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest in fake upset.

“Oh I’m sorry, don’t surname me.” He pouts back at you, which makes you giggle and ruins your facade.

“Pick a film.” You wiggle your finger at the pile of tapes, Steve turning back to them again and eventually settling on Salem’s Lot.

“You gotta hit the player a little, to get it to work.” You instruct Steve, who taps the player a few times before it springs to life and starts whirring.

He settles back down next to you, and you instantly lean your head on his shoulder. He can smell your fruity shampoo as soon as you lay it there, and leans his own head against yours. It’s comfortable, like your head was supposed to fit there in the crook of his neck.

He tries his best to focus on the screen, but whenever you’re close to him it’s like all his senses are in overdrive and his heart is beating a million miles a minute. He hopes you can’t feel it, a dead giveaway to how you make him feel, how much he really likes you.

It only gets worse when you start placing gentle kisses against his neck, your hand laced in his and he’s so aware of every minute movement you make. Every small inhale, the fan of your eyelashes as you blink. He thinks he might be losing it a little.

You kiss up his neck and up to his cheek, eventually nudging your nose against it so he turns his face to you. You both look at each other for a moment, eyes studying the others face and lips until he eventually leans in to kiss you.

It’s a little reserved, gentle and careful like there’s still some boundary yet to be crossed. Steve’s hand cups your face, fingers lacing into your hair as he holds you close to him.

You press against him a little harder, lips parting slightly so he can slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a sweet sigh from the feeling. Your arms are around his shoulders so your fingers can run through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Steve can feel himself getting lost in it all, how soft you are and how sweet you taste, and when you shuffle so you’re sitting in his lap he’s certain he’s absolutely gone. His hands move to your waist, but he barely grips you, his touch soft and hovering over your body.

You pull away a little, keeping your face close to Steve’s so your lips still brush together when you speak. “Y’know you can touch me, Stevie? I’m not gonna break.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, all sweet and a little teasing.

Steve smiles at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know, I just, uh,” he lets out a small sigh, nose nudging against your own, “you make me kinda nervous.”

You sit back a little now, still close and your fingers still combing through his hair. “What, why?” Your brows furrow slightly as you look at him with gentle concern. “Y’know I really like you, right?”

“I know, but you’re so pretty and smart and like, so out of my league.” He chuckles to try and cover the fact he’s actually wearing his heart on his sleeve, the confession making him feel like he could pass out or combust at any second.

You just shake your head at him, lips curled up into a smile that makes him want to melt. “What’ve I gotta do to prove it to you? Put it on a big sign?” You place soft kisses up and along his throat, breaking them up with your words. “Or I could make a t-shirt?” You move your kisses up to his face so you can look at him again, eyes bright with tenderness for the boy in front of you.

“The t-shirt sounds good.” Steve can feel his skin heat up wherever you place your kisses, your sweet words and soft touches driving him a little crazy.

You giggle, moving one hand to cup his jaw. “Yeah? I can do that.” You press your lips against his, softly and just for a second. “I wanna be your girl, Steve Harrington. You gonna let me?”

Steve’s not sure he’ll ever get used to your confidence, not that he minds it. But he can’t deny it makes his heart flip whenever you say stuff like this, so assured in what you want, especially when it’s him. “Yeah, yeah, I am.” He exhales, finally bringing his lips back to yours.

He kisses you with more confidence now, like whatever line you’ve been toeing has been crossed and he’s finally letting himself relax into you. His hands hold your waist properly, pulling your body closer to his so you can feel his chest move with each breath.

You tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss, Steve’s tongue licking into your mouth as he squeezes your side and it’s enough for you to sigh out a small moan. The sound only makes Steve kiss you harder, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and making your brain go sort of fuzzy.

When his lips make their way along your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck and onto that sensitive spot near your collarbone your breath hitches in your throat. You think Steve must feel it stuck there, because it’s almost like you can feel him smirk against your skin as he nips at the same spot before soothing over it with his tongue.

His hands roam to your thighs, skirt pulled up a little too high to be decent from you straddling him and you don’t even mind the pain that comes from when his hand passes over your bruise. “Jesus, Steve.” You almost whine, his lips still attached to that same spot and leaving a pretty purple mark there.

Steve groans against your skin when you say his name, the way you say it has his mind moving a hundred miles a minute. “Y’so pretty, y’know that?” His words are a bit muffled against your skin, though he briefly pulls away so he can look you in the eyes. “So perfect, drives me crazy.”

When one of his hands slips towards the inside of your thighs you have to blink a few times to try and keep yourself calm, the sensation so intense even with his gentle touch. It makes you rock your hips towards him, you don’t even mean to do it but the feeling of his denim dragging along your bare skin only sends you more into a haze. Your fingers press into his shoulders, little half moon indents pressing into the fabric of his shirt where you’re trying to ground yourself.

It feels like an eternity of his hands wandering, fingers ghosting closer to your core only to move away again before Steve finally asks if he can touch you, big brown eyes blinking down at you as you nod your head, forcing out a small “yes”, your voice a little raspy from trying to control your breathing.

Steve still feels like this might all be a dream, a fantasy taking place solely in his head, when he finally runs fingers along the hemline of your panties. You’re already warm, your soft skin radiating heat onto him and driving him wild. He moves his hand away for a second, just so he can shift your bodies around and lay you back on the couch. One hand next to your head, propping himself over you so he can see your face, and the other back to teasing you.

You know you’re already wet, can feel it there between your thighs as Steve trails a finger up and down over your panties eventually relenting and pulling them to the side. You don’t think the room is cold, but the air hitting your exposed cunt is enough to make you shiver a little.

He slides two of his fingers down into your slick, the light pressure on your already sensitive clit enough to make your body jolt and a small gasp falls from your lips.

“God, y’so wet already baby.” He muses, a smile curled onto the corners of his lips as he watches your face scrunch a little with each of his movements. His fingers rub circles around your clit, slow steady movements that have your eyes fluttering closed.

“Feels so good, Stevie.” Your voice is even sweeter than usual, all breathy and a little out of it and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it.

All your nerves feel like they’re on fire, every inch of your body charged with some sort of electricity as Steve keeps touching you. When he finally slips one finger inside of you, his thumb still pressing onto your clit, you’re pretty sure you can see stars. He’s gentle with you, moving in and out of you slowly and always keeping an eye on your face to make sure you’re alright, only adding a second finger once he can feel you’re ready.

His fingers curl up to hit that sweet spot inside of you, the slow drag of them in and out mixed with the lazy movements against your cliensending your head dizzy. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails dragging along the top of his back as your heartbeat quickens and the coil inside your stomach tightens.

“Steve.” You whine, incapable of getting any other words out, your brain turned to mush from his touch.

“Y’close?” He breathes, blown pupils staring down into your own with such intensity and desire that it only pushes you closer to the edge.

“Mhm.” You hum, all you can manage as he speeds up his movements. His fingers are pumping into you a little faster now, still careful and considerate and always hitting the right spot and you can feel your body temperature rising.

“Can feel it, feels so good.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, then onto your cheek. “Y’gonna let go for me? Wanna feel you come so bad, sweetheart.” He knows he’s running his mouth, mind all fogged up from how good you feel and how much he wants you that he can’t help but let the words tumble out.

It doesn’t take much more for that coil in your stomach to snap, Steve’s words coaxing you through your high as you squeeze your eyes shut and moan out his name. Your nails dig harder into his shoulders, the blinding white of your orgasm leaving you out of it and the feel of him underneath your fingers the only thing helping to ground you.

You whine when Steve finally slides his fingers out of you, the sudden emptiness pulling the sound from your mouth. You bring your head up from where it was lay on the couch, lips meeting his where he’s still hovering over you.

“You alright?” Steve presses his forehead against yours, the breath of his words fanning against your lips.

“Yeah, Stevie.” You give him a sweet smile, mascara a little smudged under your eyes and still looking a little out of it. “C’mon.” You press a hand to his chest and give him a gentle push, just enough so you can sit yourself up. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Hearing the words come from your mouth makes Steve’s brain short circuit a little bit, just following your lead as you shuffle up and off the couch and offer him a hand to lead him to your bedroom. You turn to face him as you walk backwards into the room, knocking the light on with your other hand and coating the room in a buttery light. Your lips are little puffy from where he’d kissed, your hair mussed from the couch, and Steve thinks you’re the most perfect girl he’s ever seen.

Then you’re back on each other again, like some invisible rope is tied around you both and is being pulled tighter til you collide. The kiss is a little messy, too eager to touch each other that it’s all tongue and teeth as your hands both try to pry the others shirt off without having to pull away for too long.

Your clothes are strewn across the room, cascaded to the floor carelessly as your hands can finally roam skin on skin. Your palms on Steve’s chest guide him towards your bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress.

He sits on the edge of the bed, hands splayed across your now bare waist and you stood between his legs, gazing down at him with big eyes full of something sticky sweet and sultry. He brings his mouth to your tits, kissing the skin and sucking softly to draw out more sweet sounds from you.

“S’my turn. To make you feel good.” You have to force the words out, your breath hitching in your chest each time Steve nibbles on your skin. Your hand reaches down to run over Steve’s crotch. You can feel how much he’s already straining against the denim jeans as you go to fiddle with the button, movements slow and teasing and already enough to make him groan against your soft skin.

“Baby.” Steve grips you a little tighter, pads of his fingers pressing into you. You just look at him, a picture of innocence as you continue your deliberate movements, zipper pulled down at an agonizing pace. “Babybabybaby.” He genuinely thinks his heart might stop with how hard it’s pounding against his ribs.

When you finally un-do the zipper and start palming at his cock through his boxers, Steve tips his head back with a low moan, the pleasure already overwhelming. You use your other hand to caress his cheek, your touch gentle and comforting to counteract how much you’re driving him absolutely crazy.

You dip your hand into his boxers, sufficient teasing done, and finally move his boxers down enough so you can pull his cock out. You try not to react when you realize just how big he is, though a small sound escapes your mouth as you start to pump your hand around the base of his shaft.

When you crouch down in the space between Steve’s legs and run your tongue up his shaft, tip already leaking from the way your hands pumping him, he thinks he might be done for. You look up at him through your lashes, doe eyed and mouth just barely touching him, placing gentle kisses on his member as one of his hands entangles itself in your hair.

“Fucking hell.” He moans, your eyes closing over as you take as much of him as you can in your mouth, hand continuing its motions at the base that you can’t quite fit.

You can feel the tip of him pressing against the back of your throat, and you have to focus on your breathing to try and stop yourself choking up around him. His fingers tighten their hold on your hair as you speed up your movements, tugging a little each time you hear him sigh or moan.

“I-I’m not gonna last.” He chokes out, trying to guide your head up so he can look at you properly. You move your mouth off him, lips slick with saliva and eyes blown as you look at him. “I wanna fuck you, don’t wanna cum yet.” His words are still breathy even now you’ve stopped touching him, his mind still catching up to everything that’s happening.

“Yeah?” You ask, voice a little teasing which only makes Steve want you more. You stand up so you can wiggle out of your skirt, letting it fall to the ground below you and leaving you only in your panties. Your fingers tug at the waistband of his jeans, a silent instruction for him to follow suit. He shuffles in his spot, tugging the trousers down his legs and onto the floor. “Sit back.” You nudge your head towards the headboard of your bed, and Steve doesn’t even try to argue as he moves himself to lean against your pillows.

You kneel over him, hands pulling at his boxers as you help to guide them off before doing the same with your panties. You straddle him again, cock pushing against your clit as you kiss him and rock your hips.

Your lips move down his neck, still a little wet and puffed up. Steve’s hands are resting on your thighs, head tilted to the side so you can continue your trail of kisses down towards his collarbone. “I, uh, don’t have a condom.” Steve murmurs, using probably the last bit of sanity he has to force the words out.

“I’m on the pill.” Your words are pressed into his skin, and you can feel him groan underneath you as you speak. “If you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah, fuck, I’m okay with it.”

Steve helps you line yourself up on top of him, a small hiss coming through your teeth as you lower down onto him and feel the stretch. You have to move slowly, each time you press yourself down a little further and feel him fill you up a little more. It takes you a couple minutes til you’re sat on him fully, breathing already a little heavy as you rest your head on his shoulder.

Steve presses kisses onto your forehead, hands steady on your hips as you sit for a moment. He can feel how tight you are around him, cock twitching inside you just from the thought of you moving. “You okay?” His voice is soothing, gentle and full of care as his thumb strokes circles into your skin.

“Yeah, m’okay.” Your voice is quiet, but you eventually start to rock your hips against him once you’ve adjusted to his size. You can feel his tip nudging that soft squidgy spot with each movement and it has you moaning into his neck as your forehead stays steady in the crook of his neck.

You get a little more confident with it, properly lifting yourself up now so you can feel the full length of his shaft moving in and out of you. You lift your head up so you can look at Steve, mouth hung open a little from being so blissed out.

“Feel s’good, so full.” Steve’s hands help guide you as you bounce on top of him, your clit bumping against the base of his shaft each time brings you down again and it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“God. Wanted this so bad. Want you so bad. Want you to be my girl.” He starts pistoning his hips up into you now, following your rhythm and hitting even deeper inside you which has you whining.

“I am your girl, Stevie.” You bite your lip as Steve thrusts up into you, barely muffling the sound of your moans as you keen at his thrusts.

“Oh fuck.” He tips his head back, eyes closing as his thrusts start getting a little sloppy. You can tell he’s close, trying your best to hold onto the pace he’s set to bring him to the edge.

“Y’gonna cum for me, baby?” You muse, voice sugar coated despite the words and it has Steve’s head spinning. He brings a hand down between you, fingers finding your clit so he can rub circles in it as you both near the edge.

It’s a little messy, still learning each other's bodies and the way you move with each touch, but you can feel yourself tiptoeing along that ledge again. Steve must feel it too, the way you clench impossibly tighter around him, because he starts picking up the pace with his thrusts again.

It doesn’t take long for you to both tumble over the edge, Steve breathing out your name over and over as he brings his forehead to yours and helps you steady yourself as you come down from your high. You’re not quite ready to move yet, still too sensitive to deal with the feeling of him pulling out.

He’s peppering sweet kisses along your cheek through his deep breathing, both your chests rising and falling as you try to bring yourselves back to reality. When he finally pulls out you whine a little, the loss of him inside you has you feeling empty and the over stimulation is close to electric.

Steve lifts you off him, placing you gently on the bed so he can go to the bathroom to get something to clean the pair of you up with. He’s so soft with you, all affectionate and doting like you’re the most precious thing in the world, he thinks you might be.

“Steve?” You sit yourself up on the bed as he pulls his boxers on, your cheeks flushed pink and lip pulled between your bottom teeth.

“Yeah?”

“This mean I’m actually your girl now?” You grin at him, and you’re asking a question you already know the answer to really. But you want to hear him say it, purely for selfish reasons.

“Fuck, yeah, you’re my girl.” He leans over and kisses your forehead, and the way you look up at him has him thinking that you might always send his head a little dizzy. But he definitely doesn’t mind.

thank u so much for reading ! plz reblog if u enjoyed and message me if u have any requests/wanna gush over steve lol <333

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut

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meowzfordayz · 10 months ago

Text

they're-both-so-helpless

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Word Count: ~600

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

Author’s Note: starting 2024 off w/ Kyojuro❣️ Began writing this while at work… winter makes for slow days when selling ice cream. 😆 Pt 2 coming ~soon aka prob within the next 24 hrs since my shift’s almost over lol.

emphasis-on-helpless, helplessly-in-love

Missing your boyfriend is tough… especially when he isn’t actually your boyfriend.

“He might as well be!” Mitsuri says whenever she’s with you, “I swear you check your phone at least twice as often ever since you became friends.” The tips of your ears warm, eyes glued to the newest Snap of Kyojuro’s cheerful face. “Will you at least show me?” Mitsuri huffs, head tilting to catch a glance, “Aww, he’s so cute!” “But he’s not my boyfriend,” you mutter, quickly snapping a blurry photo of your melting ice cream. Eyes gleaming, Mitsuri hums knowingly, slinging a giddy arm around you without another word. You silently thank her gesture of respecting your privacy—something your other friend, Shinobu, rarely does—hurriedly eating a spoonful of your dessert as he snaps back: You got ice cream without me?! ☹️ I fear I am mortally wounded. 💔 You appease him with a Snap of your own frown, promising him i’ll bring u next time 🥺🍦 pointedly ignoring Mitsuri’s smooching noises when Kyojuro fires back with It’s a date! 😁😋 Sooo maybe nobody respects your privacy.

You’ve never considered yourself shy, but you have resigned yourself to being perpetually friendzoned, a bit too person-next-door in a would-never-date-their-neighbor way rather than a person-next-door who also is-totally-down-to-date-their-handsome-neighbor way. Like puffing out your chest while walking on the sidewalk to convey confidence and get people out of your path, you’ve mastered the art of giving off don’t-fuck-with-me vibes — despite desperately wanting to fuck.

And therein lies the problem-not-actually-a-problem with one Rengoku Kyojuro. Also known as, Mitsuri’s favorite barista. Also known as, immediately flirted with you when Mitsuri finally took you to his cafe for brunch, writing his number on your cup and everything. Also known as, might not have been flirting with you and in fact was just being nice because he has yet to properly-not-jokingly ask you on a real-official-non-platonic date. You’ve survived a blustery autumn of pumpkin spice lattes and too many free muffins, persevered through a surprisingly snug winter of It’s my special recipe hot chocolates and ice skating with the gang (Mitsuri, Shinobu, Kyojuro, and his insufferable friend Tengen), and felt wistfully hopeful as spring came and went, having your voice compared to blossoming flowers and your smile to tender sunshine… only to dream alone, his contagious grin and addictingly cozy hugs lingering even as you woke with the sensation of tears in your eyes.

—

“You should tell him how you feel!” Shinobu sighs, an exasperated, endeared sound as she watches you bemoan your adoration.

“Oh yeah, because he definitely feels the same after a year of literally zero signs!”

“He called your ice cream plans last week a date,” Mitsuri chimes in, rubbing your shoulders as she exchanges a they’re-both-so-helpless look with Shinobu.

“Platonically,” you shoot back, sagging into Mitsuri’s touch, “He’s so gentlemanly and sweet, I never know whether we’re flirting or he’s simply being polite! Friendly! A friend!”

“I repeat,” Shinobu deadpans, “Tell him how you feel.”

You pout, chewing on your upper lip as you mumble, “And if he doesn’t like me?”

“Nonsense!” Mitsuri declares brightly, squeezing you—Owww—a little too hard, “He doesn’t talk to anyone else like he talks to you.”

“I talk to you differently than I talk to Shinobu. Doesn’t mean anything,” you grumble.

“I’m trying to uplift you,” Mitsuri huffs, playfully pulling on your earlobe, “Trust us. Okay? He would absolutely date you if he knew you were interested in dating.”

“Since when have I said I’m not interested?!” you wail in dismay.

“You’ve never said you are interested,” Shinobu quips.

You scowl at her as she tosses a good natured pillow at you, Mitsuri clicking her tongue as you squish the pillow against your sternum, heart aching when your phone lights up Rengoku Kyojuro sent you a Snap • 🔥.

#kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #flame hashira #drabble #modern au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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writemekpop · 1 year ago

Text

Bad Baby | Mark Lee

Summary: Mark starts acting tough to get your attention... so when you dare him to hook up with you, he doesn't back down.

Genre: Best friend Mark, college AU, friends to lovers AU, feat. hottie Jaemin

Word count: 0.7k

You heard your best friend Mark’s drawl and ran to open the front door. Balloons saying ‘24th Birthday’ filled your hallway.

“Jaemin’s arriving in fifteen minutes, I need you to make me look good-“ you said.

As soon as you saw him, the words stopped dead on your tongue.

Your sweet, pure, best friend Mark was transformed. There was no pale pink hoodie, no cowlick of hair, and definitely no grin.

Instead, you saw a tall boy in front of you, leaning on the doorframe, his dark eyes checking you out with cool interest. A black tracksuit hugged his lean body. It was Mark – a different Mark.

“Hey shawty,” he said, nodding.

You blushed at his unflinching stare. “Mark? Why are you so-“

“So what?” he asked, kicking off his shoes.

“So… not-Mark?” you said.

He shrugged. “Don’t know whatchu mean.”

Swaggering into your kitchen, he opened a can of beer and gulped it down thirstily. The Mark you knew wouldn’t even drink champagne at New Year’s.

Frustrated, you grabbed his spiky hair and fluffed it around. “I don’t- like it-“

Mark caught your hand in his, gazing at you. “You got an opinion on my hair, huh?”

Your eyes widened. You had to admit, it was the kind of thing you would only say about your boyfriend. “No…” you said, stepping away. “I don’t care what you look like- buddy-“

Mark frowned a little, like your cold reaction had hurt him. That was when you realised what was going on. You’d been pining after Jaemin, the hardest boy in the year, for ages. You’d always suspected your best friend Mark had a little crush on you, but frustratingly, he wouldn’t admit it.

Mark was acting like Jaemin to win you over!

In that moment, you knew what you had to do. If he wanted to be hard, so would you.

You looked up at him through your lashes. “Planning on hooking up with anyone tonight?” you said.

Mark chewed his lip. “Maybe.”

You toyed with the string of his hoodie. “Coz I was thinking… you and me should get it on.” You smirked. “I’m hot, you’re hot – why the hell shouldn’t we?”

Mark’s face reddened. “I mean- I’m game if you are.”

You leaned in to Mark’s ear. “Meet me upstairs.”

Five minutes later, you and Mark were sitting on your bed. Laughing lightly, you moved so you were sitting on his lap, straddling him. Mark gulped.

You gazed deep into his brown eyes. “Won’t you kiss me?”

“Of- course-“ Mark stuttered, but sweat was trickling down the side of his face. Your heart was racing. How far was this game going to go? You had expected Mark to give in a long time ago…

Mark leaned in. A few inches more, and his lips would touch yours. You could feel his hot breath on your face. Lightening was flashing up and down your body.

Mark’s lips just brushed yours- then he sprang away, gripping his head in his hands. “Alright!” he said. “I’m not a roadman! I’m not- tough! You win!”

He was fiddling nervously with the cuff of his hoodie. “I’m a dumb romantic, okay? I want the first time I kiss you… to be special. I want there to be candles, and roses, and I want us to say I love you.” He blushed. “I don’t want to… do stuff… yet.”

You crawled over to Mark and pulled him into a hug so tight it knocked the breath out of both of you. “I don’t want you to be tough, Marky. I love you just the way you are – cute and nerdy and scared of fifteen rated films,” you said, laughing.

Mark looked at you, serious now. “You… love me?”

“Of course, you idiot,” you say. “It’s always been you.”

Mark hugged you this time, nuzzling into your neck in a way that sends shivers down your spine. “When you talk about how great Jaemin is, it makes me wanna punch something,” he says.

“Jaemin who?” you said, and Mark laughed.

Mark rested his hands on your shoulders, pink lips pushed into a smirk. “Seriously though. Jaemin can’t give you half of what I can give you.”

You smile, leaning in. “Why don’t you show me, Marky?”

—

MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

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techwrecker · 2 months ago

Text

𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧

Summary: Something goes wrong on your mission with Echo. He promises to help you feel better.

Genre: Echo x Reader, Hurt Comfort

Tags: SFW, gn!reader, you travel with TBB, Echo has feelings (& so does reader, but he doesn’t know), Crosshair is a snarky asshole (what’s new), Wrecker is a perfect angel, Tech is ipad baby, spiders?, all the batchers are alive (no Omega)

Word Count: 1.5k [Ficlet]

Warnings: N/A (please let me know if I missed any!)

A/N: I am dedicating this fic to Vi! ( @welcometo79s ) I had this short lil ficlet in my drafts, all ready to go and they’re going through a tough time. I figured some Echo comfort might cheer you up a lil. I hope you enjoy!!

Other: dividers by @moosgraphics & @bunnysrph (tysm!)

find the extended version here

Whatever sickness you had come down with, you had Crosshair to blame. After all, he was the one who suggested you go out with Echo on the mission.

“She’ll be fine.”

“Crosshair, it’s a Krykna nest! You know how I feel about creatures like that,” you pushed back, throwing your arms up in exasperation.

“Hexapods?” Tech cut in, pausing from tapping away on his datapad. “Hexapods make up roughly 15% of our galaxy, you know. Though this is just an educated guess. There is no way to definitively number the countless species.” He rambled.

“No, Tech, not hexapods.” You rolled your eyes. “Creatures who live in dark, disgusting caves.”

“Whoa, have a little faith, huh? I’ll be going with you.” Echo said, feeling slighted.

The Bad Batch had just been contracted by Cid to find a lucrative jewel that originally belonged to the Banking Clan before the trade wars. Its whereabouts had last been seen in a Krykna cave on Atollon, about 200 clicks from the nearest port.

You were the un-lucky crew member who was voted in for the mission. They all put on a tough-guy act, like the creatures didn’t bother them, but you knew they did. Wrecker shivered after Hunter gave them the objective and Crosshair didn’t even try to hide the contempt on his face. Tech argued that he would be more useful guiding the mission from The Marauder, using their complex holomap system that handhelds didn’t feature. The caves were as intertwined as they were dark, like a giant bowl of protonoodles, stewing beneath the sandy surface. Echo was the only one who originally volunteered and Crosshair made an easy target out of you.

“Echo, it’s not that I have no faith in you— or even myself,” you soothed him. “I just don’t appreciate being volunteered for missions by Crosshair.” If looks could kill, Crosshair would‘ve taken one to the heart.

“Enough— All of you. You and Echo will be just fine. We’ll take every precaution to track you in the caves,” he said to you. “Crosshair, quit stirring up trouble. Tech, for the love and life in the Maker, would you get off the blasted datapad,” Hunter prattled off the orders. He knew how to control chaos, thankfully. Otherwise The Bad Batch would not have gotten far as they have.

“Uh… What about me, Hunter?” Wrecker asked, cautiously.

“For once, Wrecker, you’re doing just fine.”

Wrecker beamed at his leader’s words. He patted Crosshair on the back facetiously, causing his chewed toothpick to fly across the cargo hold. Crosshair only glared at Wreckers back as he walked away.

Tech wrapped up his typing and rolled his eyes at Hunter’s orders. He had actually been researching the weaknesses of the Krykna species to aid in the mission. He tried not to succumb to the petty infighting that went on amongst the crew. His factual statements were hard to argue with, after all.

“Alright, let’s head out,” their leader resolved.

Your confidence shrunk with every passing parsec. You talked a big game, and more often than not, you were able to deliver. Caves just creeped you out and spindly creatures didn’t make them any more appealing. And all for a lousy jewel? As if the Banking Clan didn’t have enough funds as is.

After what felt like an eternity of dread, Tech landed The Marauder with ease, nestling in between an outcropping of rocks. The pile of sand-crusted earth would act as cover from any unwanted eyes as well as from the sandstorms, which were particularly nasty this side of the equator. At least, according to Tech.

“Have everything we’ll need?” Echo asked you as he whirred his scomp link to make sure it was in working order.

You mentally scanned the brief checklist before replying. Sand goggles, flashlight, mini fire thrower, and trusty boots. “Think so.”

“Well then, let’s get moving. The cave isn’t too far from here. Maybe a 10 minute trek.”

The hatch of the hull opened, letting a rush of arid air invade The Marauder. The wind whipped against your cheeks, scraping particles of sand into your skin. Though you were wearing the goggles, you raised your arm to shield your eyes out of habit.

“This outta be fun,” you said to Echo, tone almost as dry as the planet you just landed on.

Echo chuckled and headed down the steps.

The journey to the cave really was not that bad. If a scorching sun and high-speed winds was your idea of ‘not that bad’, that is. By the time you and Echo walked up to the mouth of the cave, you were already over it. The irritating dust, the lashing wind, the searing sun. You started to see why the Krykna hunkered down in the caves, safe from the terrain.

“You ready?” Echo called to you, trying to carry his voice above the howling wind.

You eyed the hollow opening warily. Not even the sun was able to penetrate the thick darkness. Looking back to Echo, he had a smile on his face. His smile always managed to stir butterflies in your stomach.

“You can do this, you know,” he reassured. He held his hand out to you, offering stability and comfort.

The gesture surprised you, but not enough to be taken aback. You wondered if maybe Echo felt the same way that you did him. You gladly clasped your hand in his, your heart jumping against your ribcage at the welcome touch.

“Okay. Let’s do this,” you resolved.

You started toward the eerie cave, hand in hand— together.

“Well, at least you got the jewel.” You heard a voice say.

You opened your eyes to see Crosshair and Echo standing at your bedside.

Why were you in bed? You scrambled through your hazy memory to find the answer.

Isolating darkness, sticky webs coating your arms, the twinkle of the scarlet jewel reflecting off your flashlight, Echo desperately calling your name… And then nothing.

Echo huffed. “No, at least we got out of there alive,” he corrected.

They hadn’t noticed you had awoken, so you began to sit up. The pain in your temple scolded you by promptly throbbing in your skull, demanding you lay back down. You groaned against the pain and brought a hand up to lightly press against your head. A damp cloth was already in place across your forehead, attempting to soak the heat off it.

“Thank the maker you’re awake,” Echo said, coming closer to your bedside. “You had us worried there for a minute.”

“W-what happened?” You asked quietly. It seemed your usual confident tone had gotten themselves tangled in the webbed caves along with the memories of the mission.

“A large Krykna got to you before Echo could rescue you,” Crosshair explained. “He’s only being a touch dramatic about it,” he finished sarcastically.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Echo. It happens.” You tried to smile at him, but it came out more of a grimace from the pain.

“No, it isn’t. I should have been quicker than that. His only fist was straining against the rail of the bed, knuckles paling against the dark metal.

Luckily, it was within your reach to rest your hand on top of his to settle his feelings. His rigid grip softened considerably under your touch. “I promise Echo, it’s fine. I’m alive, aren’t I?” You tried to make light of the situation.

“Barely,” Crosshair snarked.

“Go shine your rifle, why don’t you?” Echo shot back, glaring.

The sniper threw his hands up in surrender with a smirk before turning out of the room. You were surprised he didn’t have more to say, but you had bigger things to focus on.

“Tech said it’s some sort of sickness from the Krykna fangs. It’s nothing serious, but you’ll be out of commission for a few weeks,” he explained. He paused before continuing. “I won’t leave your side until the fever has broken and you’re back to your old self,” Echo promised, his voice more serious than you’ve ever heard it.

His eyes were filled with concern for you, brows knit together. You had never noticed how his eyes had more of a golden hue to them until now. The generic deviation only added to his already handsome features. Echo let go of the safety rail, rotating it to hold your hand instead. Your fingers found their place laced between his, almost as if his hand had been specially crafted by their maker just for yours to hold.

“Thank you, Echo,” you said, squeezing his hand gently, signaling your sincerity. You wanted to reach around his armored torso and give him a hug, but you knew the headache wouldn’t let you, so you settled for rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand.

You knew Echo would do everything in his power to see that you got better . With him looking after you, your health would return in full force and then some. He cared about you more than you knew and wanted to make sure nothing like that ever happened to you again.

Besides having the best caretaker in the galaxy nurse you back to health, you knew that Crosshair would never hear the end of it from the batchers since he signed you up to almost materialize into the force.

tags: @baddest-batchers @rinksu-no-joo

Comments & Reblogs greatly appreciated! 🥰

#star wars #tbb #the bad batch #sw tcw #tbb echo #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #tbb echo fanfiction #tbb echo fanfic #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo x you #tbb echo/reader #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch echo

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satorqn · 2 years ago

Text

an: angst? fluff? self indulgent i am sorry i am v sad rn

suna is strong. you know it. he knows it. everyone knows it. he benches 220 daily, can squat double your weight like its nothing and don’t even get him started on his deadlifts. he can make his grocery run from the car to the fridge in one go, comically lifts large pieces of furniture to dust underneath it and is your go-to jar opener.

suna can do it all ... except break you. it’s all he wants to do, actually, because you’re his strongest opponent. suna wants to squeeze you until you absolutely shatter in his grasp. he wants to hug you so tightly to him that you fall apart into a million pieces. because that’s the only way he can catch a glimpse of what goes on inside.

suna is strong. you are strong. but suna is stronger.

your shell is tough, easily holding in everything within your mind and soul. your fortress, fortified enough that nothing ever slips out. but suna wants in.

he wants in on why your eyes can seem so empty and soulless sometimes. he wants in on why you snapped at him the other day and gave him the cold shoulder. he wants in on you and what goes on inside that pretty little head of yours.

suna watches you quietly from behind his mug of tea, as you slowly slip your shoes off and place them in their place on the shoe rack, then shoulder your coat off before laying it on the back of the couch before truding off to your bedroom. all without a single word or glance to suna.

suna knows how hard you’ve had it recently; the endless tabs open on your laptop as you work late into the night, your empty stares at the dinner table as you quietly push your food around your plate like a small, picky child. he sees it especially in your eyes, which harbors a deep sadness that makes his gut churn.

you hear suna gently calling your name from beyond your bedroom door before he cracks it open slightly to peek his head through. he stays just beyond the door frame, not wanting to intrude in your space without your consent. you feel bad that you’re dragging your beloved through the mud with you. he offers nothing short of love and understanding, yet your immediate reactions are to pull away, hide from it all.

“sorry, i’ve had a long day.” you pull the door open wider, an invitation to let him in.

suna hums in response, eyes scanning your room. “don’t apologize, it’s all okay.” he makes a mental note to help clean your room when he finds the time to.

you fall back onto your bed, wrapping yourself in your sheets until you resemble a burrito, only your face visible. a small smile graces suna’s face as you falls besides you, pulling you close into his grasp. “what’s wrong, hm?” it’s a mere whisper, as if he said it any louder it would scare you away back into your cocoon.

“oh, nothing.” you chew on the inside of your lip. you’re nervous, for some reason. “just lots of work that’s all.”

glancing up to your boyfriends face, his brows are slightly furrowed and lips downturned. “no, what’s wrong?”

“nothing, really!” you sit up straight to face suna, shaking your head as if to insist and drive home your point. “it’s nothing really! nothing for you to worry about.”

its true that suna wants to break you, but you’re still his girl, his prized and beloved. he treats you gently. gently taking the blanket from your grasp, unwrapping you so you can’t hide from him and placing you on his lap. his touch is soft as his large hands, the same ones that absolutely demolish his opponents on the court, cup your face. his thumbs caress your cheeks, then trace the outline of your lips. his hands push back to card through your hair, slowly working through any knots and frizz, then down your neck, across your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps down your arms before they find home on your thighs. “tell me whats wrong.”

his voice is firm, and it’s a demand. he’s tired of playing cat and mouse, tired of watching from the sidelines and he’s tired of seeing you in this state.

you stare down at his hands, where they grip the plush of your thighs before meeting his gaze. it’s stern, borderline scary as he stares deep within you and whatever excuse you were about to utter dies on the tip of your tongue and comes out as a quiet squeak. honestly, everything in you dies in that moment. because you’re not quite sure what wrong, you just know it is. you don’t know how to explain to your lover why you’ve been so mean lately, so shut off, such a weight in the relationship.

you can’t explain yourself, so you don’t. you just let all the wrong in you bubble up within you, until it fills your heart and lungs and you’re bursting at the seams. you can only let out desperate whispers of ‘i’m sorry’ over and over again as your lips wobble, and your face pinches up in a futile attempt to ward off the hot, stinging tears sitting on your lash line. you can’t stop apologizing and crying, or shaking and hiccuping and sniffling.

and just like that, suna has broken you. “ah, i told you not to apologize, didn’t i?” he’s as gentle as ever, pulling you into a tight hug.

you are strong, yet suna is stronger. he wants to break you because he knows he’s strong enough to share some of the weight you hold; hell, he would hold all of your worries, sorrows and pains if he could.

#suna x reader #suna fluff #suna angst #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #suna rintarou #rintaro suna

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callofdudes · 2 years ago

Note

Could you do a female reader breaking the norms and proposing to the guys? I think that would be adorable and silly :D

Bro that's cute. Ofc, and apologies for it taking forever to write.

Female Reader proposing to the boys.

You expected to be a little nervous, but the amount of sheer terror that was filling your body was making you feel numb. Getting into a relationship with Simon Riley in the first place was a hard task, and you knew Simon wasn't going to pop the question himself.

You were currently sat around the dinner table with the 141. Johnny was eyeing you occasionally across the table and trying to give you reassuring looks. Simon as per usual was off in his head, chewing with his mask up over his top lip.

It was quiet. Only Price and Soap knew about what you were planning and they had supported you the whole time. They even went the extra mile to make sure Simon was in the right headspace for your proposal.

And Simon looked very content where he sat, drifting off in the rare treat of silence.

You shifted and smiled when you finished the last of the food on your plate. "Well, I'm full. Does anyone want more?"

"we're good. Ghost?" Simon hummed and looked up at Price. "Would you like anymore food, son?"

"No," he breathed out heavily. "Thank you darling, I might head to bed early."

You felt your gut wrench. "Is something wrong?" Your pulse quickened when Simon stood and you stumbled on your head to find your words. To get him to stay.

"No, just tired."

You opened your mouth to speak when there was a loud cough at the end of the table.

You all turned as Johnny coughed and slammed his hand down on the table. He mimed at his throat and flung himself out of his chair. For a moment you were concerned until you saw the thumbs up he gave you under the table.

He continued to spasm and cough, quite dramatically actually.

"Johnny!" Ghost rushed over to check on the man who miraculously stopped coughing when Simon reached him. "You alright sergeant?"

Johnny smiled and gripped Simon's arms. You stumbled on your feet and before you had the words thought out on your head you just started talking.

"Simon-"

The large man looked back at you and sat Johnny up. You saw the concern in his eyes but you pushed through it. "I- you know I love you?"

Ghost hesitated. "Yes? Why are we talking about this now?" Ghost attempted to move but Johnny grabbed his arm and forced him to stay. "I think I need a minute Lt. Winded."

"You sure you're alright Sergeant?"

"Peachy, but you might want to get comfortable."

What in the world would you do without Johnny. Poor Simon looked confused.

"Simon. I know you're not really the romantic type. Nor are you good with this relationship thing."

He scoffed. "I warned you."

"You did. You warned me eight times before finally accepting my love for you. And I've loved every second I get to spend with you. Every hour of every day. I laugh because I was a bit disappointed I didn't receive anything for Valentine's day. Truth was you'd completely thrown out the idea, but I still loved what I got a day late."

"it was just a box of chocolate."

"Yeah but you got it for me. And even if you say you're not the romantic type you show your love for me in every way that is just you."

"Y/N, I feel like this is a more private conversation."

You sighed. "Simon when I came here I met Ghost. I knew Ghost, this big tough man with the world in his hands. And I fell in love with Simon Riley. So..." You dug into your pocket and fished out the metal engraved band you'd kept safe for weeks.

"I know he won't do it himself, but will Simon Riley marry me?"

Simon froze. His stance stiffened and he straightened up. You bent down on one knee and giggled as his eyes followed you. There was a hot minute of tension where Simon said nothing and did nothing.

He slowly let go of Johnny's arm and lowered himself to your level. He stayed silent and just looked at you. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you couldn't believe you were the one being so emotional. Though that should have been expected. He wiped away the tears in your eyes and pulled you into his arms. You sobbed against him and smiled into his shirt. Simon's hands were shaking. You could feel it.

You felt something wet on your shoulder and realized he was crying too.

"I love you so much Simon. I don't want to let you go." You brought the ring to your chest and allowed him to scoop it from your hands. When you pulled away Simon was attempting to wipe his tears but you saw. He tugged off his glove and slid the ring onto his finger. The band fit perfectly against his hand, glowing with the engraving of your initials.

He wanted to say something. Anything, but nothing came out. All he could do was smile. For the first time in a long time all he wanted to do was smile and hold you close.

Johnny was the first to start clapping, followed by Price and Gaz.

Simon scoffed and wiped his tears again before tearing off his mask and pulling you into him. Your lips met and Simon didn't care who saw. He didn't care Johnny's hand rubbed his back comfortingly when he kissed you.

"You were in on this?" He looked back at Johnny who winked. "I don't know what you're talking about. That last bit of chicken really got to me."

Ghost slapped the sergeants knee and went back to hugging you.

And a year later it was Simon's turn to slip a ring on your finger. Seconds before you were named his wife.

It was your second day of leave. Technically the first but both you and Johnny had slept the whole plane ride and crashed in your couch once you were home. So however you both saw it.

But once the jet lag wore off and the two of you built back some energy you'd decided to go for a morning walk out in the parks of Scotland.

Johnny loved it out there. If felt like a place really just let everything go. All his worries and pain he could let the wind take it all for just a little while.

It had been a couple days since you'd seen Johnny's smile. Mostly because after your last bone shaking mission you two hadn't been ready to go back out again. So Price released you on leave.

Johnny breathed in and sighed in relief. "Just breathe that Glasgow air." It was good to be home. You'd always wanted to come to Scotland with Johnny. Although the weather wasn't the warmest this time of year, the two of you had bundled up and went on a quiet stroll around the park.

"Happy to be home?"

"Beyond happy." Johnny smiled. "But I already miss the others. I haven't been away from them for so long."

"That's understandable."

"But I've got you here ey love?"

You smiled and pushed him in the chest playfully. "You're a joke."

"What took you so long love?"

You scoffed and pulling him into a kiss. He hummed and you sank into the comfort of his warm lips against the chilling air.

His hands relaxed on your hips and caressed your cloaked waist. The exhaustion in his body was still there even after you two had landed yesterday.

You pulled away and looked back through the park. You smiled. "You know, I can't think of a more beautiful place right now."

"It's just Glasgow love." Johnny chuckled.

"Yeah, I know. But you like it. So I like it." You looked at him and brought him into another kiss. "Oh Johnny what would I do without you?"

"I don't know. Die? Drown? Cry?"

"All of the above, in the opposite order." You took a deep breath and decided this was right. This felt right. "You remember when we met in that dugout? Captain Price knew we would work well from the start."

"Yeah." Johnny replied.

"Or how you shielded me from enemy fire and got locked up in recovery for nearly three months because you miraculously took six bullet wounds and didn't die?"

"I'm superman, haven't you heard?"

"No. You're Johnny. And Johnny has always been there for me. To love me, to hold me and care for me."

"I do it for you. Once a teammate now the love of my life. There isn't a better thing that could have happened to me."

"What about that gift Ghost got you on your birthday?"

"Ok that was cool. But I said better, that gift is almost better."

"Same damn thing."

"No it's not love, you know it's not." He kissed you again. "Almost better."

"You're stupid."

"I have been informed multiple times of this fact."

"But you're my dumb. All my dumb. I couldn't love anyone else if they were this dumb. But I love you, and your dumb."

"Gee, thanks babe..."

"Which is why..." You dug into your jacket pocket, and right there on the park you slowly kneeled onto the cold concrete. "John MacTavish I love you with every fibre of my being. You've brought me more joy then I thought possible."

Johnny looked at you, shocked. Utterly baffled. He wasn't sure what to say. "Will you-" His eyes swelled with tears and before you knew it he'd thrown himself onto his hands and knees and was full on sobbing. Gut wrenching sobs slurred with incognitive chants that sounded like "yes."

"You didn't even let me finish-"

"Yes babe! Baby yes! Aye, ah will mairie ye loue! Si! HOW MANY OTHER WAYS CAN I SAY IT!?"

You pulled him into your arm and he wrapped himself around you. His face buried in your neck he stole the engagement band from your hand and held it tightly. You felt tears in your own eyes when he cupped your neck firmly and whispered how much he loved you. And you must have cried In that park for ten minutes before he settled down.

He slipped it onto his finger and nearly broke down again. "I love you so much. I love you so much." He choked.

"I know you do."

He hugged you tightly and sighed. "It should have been me. Too bad I'm a chicken when it comes to you."

"Again. You're only my dumbass."

You had been coordinating proposing to Alejandro for a long time. Alejandro had yet to propose, which was a bit odd, but you weren't going to be a snob and pressure him by blatantly asking when I was going to get a move on with it.

You figured Alejandro might feel more comfortable if you proposed. And you were excited. Rodolfo had been helping you with it, and had even managed to get Alejandro to confess he was ready for marriage. Just wasn't sure when to do it. Rodolfo is so good at getting Intel for you.

But you finally came up with a good time to do it.

Alejandro's birthday.

Gosh it was a daunting idea. Extended family once hidden around the globe came to life in a secret party house for one day to spend over seven hours celebrating their beloved Alejandro. And you were part of it.

You had met his close family before. But the cousins and aunts and uncles. Second cousins, mother's in law and father's in law. It was a lot to handle and right now, sadly, the alcohol was your friend.

Alejandro was being crowded by guests. They were all talking to him lovingly and at this point he had at least three flower necklaces over his neck.

He was cracking jokes left and right, it made you smile how happy he looked.

You watched from over by the small bar table and he unsurprisingly caught your eye. He waved at you and got up from his seat. Coming over he smiled and grabbed you by the waist. "Well, hello pretty lady~"

"Cut your bullshit Alejandro."

His laugh was silenced in a kiss. He melted into you and your lips did all the talking. Well, they typically did out of this scenario but who are you trying to ruin the moment with him? He was having fun.

When you pulled away Alejandro had a coy smirk as usual. "Do you know how much I love you?"

"A lot?"

"A lot is a good amount mi amor."

"I can't believe I met you." You whispered. "The Alejandro Vargas I knew in assignment, now a colonel." You massaged his shoulders. "Another year at your side. Two years of dating under our belts."

"That is true mi amor."

"And I've loved every second with you Alejandro." His half lidded irises sparkled and seemed to ignite with fire. Sparking up like a lighter does candle.

You kissed him again, allowing your chest to rise quickly and fall deep into your chest nervously. "I love you Alejandro, but I just wanted to ask..." You were about to grab the ring from your pocket when someone tapped Alejandro on the shoulder. He pulled away from you and turned to talk to the guest.

Your heart leapt in your chest. You were on the edge of turning back. Your hand froze around that little box and you tried to find you words.

Alejandro smiled at the guest and joked with them for what felt like forever before they started to walk away. Oh they are walking away. Do it now! You scolded yourself.

You slipped down on one knee and heard a large portion of the guests gasp. Your heart was pounding faster than it ever had. Looking up at his strong back straighten and his body react to the shock around him. Alejandro whipped around to see if something had happened and his eyes widened when he saw you.

You looked up into his eyes and smiled.

"M-Mi amor!"

His mouth went dry. He was utterly silenced. He looked from you to the box. Then up to you. The silence was growing uncomfortable as your knee hurt, your hands were shaking and Alejandro had yet to say anything.

And then he chuckled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He tossed it in his hand. "Looks like you beat me too it."

"I- you-"

"Just because it's my party doesn't mean I can't propose. But alas, my sweet angel has beaten me too it." He caressed your wrists and tugged you forward.

You stood up and wrapped your arms around him. He kissed your temple and shuddered. "I love you so much. So, so much." Tears swelled in his eyes. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating.

You hugged him back and squeezed him as tightly as you could. "I love you Alejandro."

"Alright, let's see it." You handed him the black wedding band and smiled. "It's sturdy, shouldn't break on duty."

"What would I do without you?" He kissed you, and you were content to stay that way for the whole night.

(Shortly followed by you and Rodolfo screaming and dancing to celebrate this successful mission)

You were so nervous to see Kyle again. It had been six months without him and the very thought of him coming home sent your heart racing. Your insides flipped and tossed. You stood in the mirror rushing to fix your attire for the ceremony you were going to.

It was one of those events where they were commending the soldiers and family got to visit. You were so proud of Kyle and seeing his face again!? You were smiling like an idiot in the mirror.

It wasn't very long before you were sat in that ceremony where dozens of soldiers lined up while their Captain's spoke.

You felt tears in your eyes when among the ceremony the members of 141 were called to attention. There in the crowd was Kyle. Your Kyle, stood firm with his hands behind his back. The two others beside him also part of the 141. Their captain took the podium and spoke. Captain John Price recounted time on the base and what it was like out on the field.

He recounted what "Soap" MacTavish and "Gaz" Garrick did on the field. How brave they were and their contributions everyday.

Kyle's eyes were straight ahead so you couldn't tell if he'd noticed you or not, but you hoped he could sense you. At least know his love was looking at him.

His firm stance continued even as the shorter man to his right leaned over briefly and whispered something. Kyle's shoulders dropped briefly before slapping his friend gently and getting him to straight up again.

A few more words were passed and some awards were even handed out. Mostly to the Captain's. Kyle looked extremely proud of Captain Price received a medal for his continued service.

When the ceremony was brought to a close, the soldiers stood at ready. Family was released to call to their loved ones and you felt your heart leap. Family members all around got up and searched for their soldiers. You found yourself up and running before you could process any of it.

Kyle remained in place when you ran through people and tripped over yourself to get to him.

He looked at you with a soft gaze and it wasn't until you touched him that he relaxed and wrapped his arms around you. He hugged you tightly against his shoulder. "I missed you so much." He cooed.

You ran your hands along his uniform and quickly reacquainted yourself with him. He'd gotten slightly bulkier, he'd recently had a shower because the smell of ash and cedar weren't pungent on his skin.

When the two of you managed to pull away from each other you finally kissed him. Something you'd missed so dearly. how warm he was. The comfort he brought you. His soft eyes, rough skin. How his hands cupped and held you with such a gentleness.

"Kyle-" you choked on your words and found your fingers twitching and fumbling. You dug into your pocket quickly. You'd had months to think this through and your body was quaking when you'd made the decision.

This was right. Right here. Right now.

Kyle was in the military, buying a ring was probably last on his list next to surviving.

Kyle noticed and still on adrenaline, watched you pull out the box and fall on both knees. You grabbed the pant leg of his uniform and held up the unopened box, sobbing.

You didn't have to say anything for him to understand. His eyes swelled with tears and he kneeled. "Yes love. Yes." His finger hooked under your jaw and drew your eyes back to him.

He hugged you tightly and let his tears slip down his cheeks. Your arms wrapped around him and everything melted around you as you curled into his chest.

There was a rough pat on his back and Johnny smiled. "Guess you're taking her name then eh?"

"Well-"

"No! Absolutely not! I didn't contemplate this for five months only to not be a Garrick." You spat.

Kyle chuckled and kissed your nose. "Alright then. Y/n Garrick." His heart fluttered. He'd often thought of you with his last name. But it really was happening. Y/n Garrick.

He opened the box and slid the ring onto his finger. "Of course I'll marry you, Thank you for waiting."

"Thanks for coming back."

"Always, love."

It wasn't really fancy honestly. You were desperate when it happened. Covered in dirt and soaked in blood.

Gasping for air as you dragged each other back up the embankment. His hand clasped around your, tugging and pulling desperately. Your feet fought to get up underneath you but the earth kept crumbling away.

"Come on love!" John pulled you up. His body ached but he managed to get you up into his arms. His breath was heavy. His eyes were tired, focused on the trail ahead to the cabin. You felt like you were dying. And being in the work you were it happened more often then you would have liked.

John finally came upon the cabin and rushed inside.

You dropped to the floor and leaned your head back, fighting for air. "Price-" you gulped.

"They shouldn't find us in here." Price kneeled down and cupped your cheek. "You're ok, we'll be ok." Tears started to build in your eyes and you pulled John in for a kiss. A desperate and utterly relieved kiss to have him against you again.

John clasped the back of your neck and kissed the tear running down your stained cheek. "Let's get you in the bath."

John picked you up in his arms and brought you through the small cabin and into the bathroom. It wasn't spacious but it would do.

He turned on the water and while waiting for it to warm he started to undress you. The cool air prickled your skin, and John was uncovering new lacerations and wounds.

You shuddered when he placed you on the floor and allowed you to inch out of your underwear and step into the bath. The water was immediately stained red by the blood. But it was warm.

Your body relaxed into it and John sat by your side. You both looked at each other. You reached out for his hand and rubbed the dirt off his knuckles with your thumb. "Are you coming in?"

"No, not while we're still here."

"Putting me up for grabs then?"

"Hardly, of someone comes through that door I'll put a bullet in their head."

You smiled. You clasped his hand and closed your eyes. Your body soaking in the warmth you'd missed. "You think the lieutenant is waiting for us?"

"Riley? Of course, I gave him strict orders. We'll be ok."

You opened one eye and smiled. "John, what will we do when we get home?"

"Go home? Well I'm going to bed love."

You chuckled. You pulled his hand into the water and started to wash it. "No, I meant long term. When we get back we're going on leave and I'm tired of this... Mess..."

John raised an eyebrow. "Something you're trying to say in particular?"

Tears pooled in your eyes again. "John I want to get married."

John's eyes widened. "Where is this coming from?"

"John we've been talking about it for months, and I know it's stressful and you don't want to move forward on account of losing me but I cannot go another day like this." The tears started to fall. "So will you or will you not marry me when we get home!?"

John bowed his head and took off his hat. "Love. You know I'd marry you anywhere, any time."

He lifted his head and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Of course I'll marry you. Just stick out until we get to Ghost, and I'm all yours."

You rubbed his knuckles and nodded softly. Price wiped your tears and urged you back into the bath. "Be quiet for now love. I'll keep watch over you."

#simon ghost riley #call of duty headcanons #call of duty #alejandro vargas #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #ghost x reader #captain john price #alejandro vargas x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #john price x y/n #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader

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nahoney22 · 2 years ago

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Racing Ahead

Tech X GN!Reader

word count: 1.5k

When Tech is more than willing to race to save you and Cid from the claws of Cid’s old acquaintance, how do you feel when he steals something for good luck.

warnings: scenes used from Ep 4 of TBB S2, mutual pining and tooth rotting fluff. Reader is gender neutral. Not proofread.

All of Tech’s hard work shattered before his eyes and even though you personally found TAY-0 to be one of the most arrogant and irritating droids alive, it was harrowing seeing him get blasted by a racer. Just before the race to get Cid back was about to begin, too.

“Tough luck, looks like a forfeit.” Millegi snidely comments, a smirk on his face. You look up at the Dowutin, eyes glaring daggers which you now came to realise was a fateful decision as that smirk grows wider.

“You know, I like things to be even too. So double the money… and double the crew.” His hand reaches down, clasping over your shoulder and brings you harshly into his chest with your back.

“Let them go.” Tech speaks with sense of overpowering protectiveness, hand placed on his holster ready to shoot if need be.

“Uh, this wasn’t part of the deal!” You squirm in his grasp only to be pushed back towards the other of his little cronies where they kept you more securely from running off.

“That’s hustlin for you. Cid should have taught you all about that.” He guffaws but that’s when something in Tech had snapped.

“I’ll be the racer.”

Your eyes widened and your squirming quickly subsided as you shook your head at him. “Tech, no. It’s far too dangerous.” You couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“This is something I have to do. There is not a choice in this.” He didn’t even look at you as he spoke, eyes glaring at the men in front of him with venom in his eyes. Seeing you being manhandled like that shot a course of panic and determination through his veins and if he had to race one hundred times to get you back, he would.

Eyes widening in a mix of horror and shock, you keep protesting although there is not really any alternative option. But, Tech’s face showed the greatest determination he had ever displayed and it was all in favor of you. Well, and Cid.

Although you shouldn’t feel grateful, Millegi kindly told you that you could say your ‘goodbyes’ as he put it and allowed you to spend five minutes with Tech before the race was to begin.

When you could finally see him, he’s by the speeder he had fixed up, over analyzing every small detail. Even Omega and Wrecker had to sit back and watch, chewing their fingernails to subdue their hanging anxiety.

“Tech, what are you doing? This is madness! You don’t even know how to race.” You join his side, his eyes briefly meeting yours before looking back at the layout of the track on his datapad.

“I have surveyed the whole layout and I think the favors are in my court.” He says as a matter of fact but there’s still nerves in both of your stomachs.

“You could die.” You point out, replaying the scenes of the previous two races in your head after seeing what happened to those contestants.

Tech drops his datapad and switches for a spanner, making a small alteration on the speeder and practically ignores your statement.

He knew the risks to this sport but he could not sit back and do nothing. He had no time to fix TAY-0 so this was the only solution. He freezes however, feeling something place on his forearm and he looks to see your hand. “Tech.”

He sighs a little and looks over to you. “We should have never agreed to come do this mission for Cid. It had too many risks that I had not calculated before coming.”

“We didn’t know this would happen.”

“That may be so, but look at what predicament it has got you in.” His voice is stern but of course laced with concern.

“Millegi said he wasn’t going to kill me,” you recite back to a small conversation you had with your capturer before he allowed you to come see Tech, “Cid however…”

“To be fair, I care less about Cid in comparison to you. Too often she has left us in dangerous situations and it isn’t the first time we have had to rescue her.” Tech is pacing now, rambling and talking with his hands. “Death or not, I refuse to let you be taken.”

A tannoy announcement blares, indicating that there’s two minutes to go and that Racers should make their way to the starting line. The two of you look at one another, hearts racing.

You felt a strong connection to Tech, always have done since you first step foot in the Marauder. You were one of the few who would listen to his ramblings and never get bored and of course, he noticed this. At first he thought nothing of it but when you started to callback to previous things he had said, his heart began to swell in awe. His feelings began to fester until they finally bloomed and he was rather smitten with you. Which was why he did not hesitate to come to your aid.

If Tech was going to lose or possibly die in the next ten minutes, he knew he could not live these final moments in regret. Although he is confident and favors himself a 89.45% chance of winning if his plan goes correctly, there is something that could boost his confidence.

He throws his tools and datapad to the side on the workbench, grabs his helmet before he quickly crosses over to you like a man on a mission.

You stumble back a little, the very quick close proximity surprising you. “I am not a man who necessarily believes in luck. In fact, strategy and logistics is my forte but I can not risk this enough to not gain any more luck.”

Before you could even ask what it was he had in mind, his hand is on your waist and you’re flushed to his body whilst his lips ascend upon yours. Your eyes are wide in shock, hands coming up but unsure where to place them so they’re left dangling awkwardly in the air as his eyes knit tightly closed, savoring the feeling of your lips against his. You’re pushed into the workbench, all your senses overwhelmed that you can’t even process what is truly happening. When he pulled away, he let out a shaken exhale.

“That should have done the trick. I shall see you at the finish line.” He nods simply before he moves around you and gets ready to race.

You remain rooted to your spot, dazed but your skin burnt with a glorious glow of blush after Tech, the Tech, kissed you. Although he had gone and is out of ear shot, you whispered a small good luck before making your way back to the private lounge.

After countless tight calls, Tech renders victorious. You had to refrain from cheering in front of Millegi who had a face like a slapped Bantha’s backside. But, a deal was a deal and he sets you free with Cid too.

When you saw him on the big screen, watching the audience cheer for him you almost wept in great pride. Sometimes his work is not appreciated by his brothers but seeing him get the praise he deserved made your heart full.

Once back with them you’re hugging Wrecker and Omega closely and happy to be reunited but as you peer over Omega’s shoulder, Tech stands tall with a very shy expression. “I’ll uh- catch up with you guys in a minute.”

Tech steps towards you, relieved to see you unharmed and very much alive. As if there was any doubt. “I told you I would not allow them to take you.”

“I didn’t think you would.” You smile softly, a blush already creeping up your neck and ears just by being close with him again. You wanted to mention the surprising kiss but your heart would simply shatter if you found out it meant nothing. But, when Tech takes another daring move - clearly on a high after his win - he takes your hand in his and brings you close.

“I’ll take it you are wondering as to why I bestowed you with a kiss… and then abruptly left.”

You tilt your head to the side, grinning softly up at him with hopeful eyes. “You mean that ‘good luck’ kiss?”

He gulps but nods his head. “Y-yes. I am not into cliches but just last night I came across a holomovie where a kiss like this was given. Plus, I can not deny that I have been wanting to-.” He stops himself, suddenly becoming very nervous but you manage to coax him out of his nerves by cupping his cheek, thumb tracing over his finely stubbled jaw.

“Wanted to kiss me?” You push on, eyes gleaming with a longing that could be finalized right this very moment.

“Yes, cyare. To kiss you.” He breathes softly, a goofy grin displaying on his features.

“Well,” you step closer to him, voice hushed and he almost melts at the feeling of your warm breath against his face, “don’t let me stop you from doing it again.”

Without a second to even think, he captures your lips against his own and envelopes his arms around your frame. You sigh into his embrace, letting your lips move along his in a gentle dance that is sure to sweep you off your feet. It’s short and sweet but he whispered a promise against your lips that more on the ship will definitely be on the cards.

He won the race and more importantly, he won you. Could his day get any better?

Masterlist

More Tech Works

tags: @discofern @s1st3r @buddee @taskfork-archive @the-good-shittt @crystal076 @cosmic-persephone @imalovernotahater @swiftiexstarwarssimp @by-the-primes @torchbearerkyle @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @a-c-lee @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @lucyysthings @tinyreadersmur @agenteliix @myinnerwonderlandmind @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease e @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @bomboclaat y @rexandechosandwich @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet

#the bad batch #bad batch tech #nahoney22 writes #bad batch tech x reader #tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #tech the bad batch #clone wars #tbb

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choicesficwriterscreations · 10 months ago

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January MC of the Month: Nora Rose

Please welcome January 2024's MC of the Month! Each month, we highlight one MC or OC on our Meet My MC / OC List. They are selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

This month’s MC of the month is…

@inlocusmads's Nora Rose

More below...

In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC / OC.

The thing I like the best about Nora is how she has a killswitch alternative to any plan she comes up with. Even if it is something as simple as coming up with dinner options. She has this interesting perceptive ability that's akin to playing 4D chess, but at the same time, she has elevator music running in her head.

At the same time, she's sometimes terribly wrong and isn't afraid to acknowledge that. The things she's able to do today - from keeping a level head and a calm composure in the hardest of situations come from her childhood where things were hard, and she had to grow up quite quickly. A lot of times, she'd have to think on her feet, run through options, remember new stuff, and be able to work with her constraints, not just pertinent to her job but in her adulthood as a whole. Her capacity to be able to stand up on her own feet came from so many instances where she couldn't even get off the floor or look straight ahead.

Nora's also a slow learner but an avid one nonetheless. She was kicked out of so many schools when she was young, mostly because of her not being able to focus properly or standing up to her bullies (something the school calls ‘stirring trouble up’), and it kind of stunted the faith she had in herself. She had to build up an open mind to be able to differentiate between what is good and bad for her. She had to learn how to carve out her own path, despite dealing with so much grief she could never move on from. All of these things stuck to her when she grew up, which made her more aware and sponge-like to gather the mental ammunition needed to face all kinds of problems.

Nora's far from what she pictured herself to be as a kid, but she's kind of bittersweet about making it this far. Optimistic that if she just doesn't think too much about stuff, the space and time around her would heal even the bloodiest of wounds, but also disappointed she can't deal with things more openly and faster, like in a brawling match. But I'm happy for her, given the circumstances she was in. Nora's always had this ability to chew her way out of things - by hook or by crook. If she can't decode a lock, she'd just give it a slight nudge. If the nudge doesn't work, she'll just straight-up shoot at it and deal with the fallout later. Her main motto is to “just keep going”.

Do you feel your MC / OC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

I'd say I took a lot from my experiences growing up and gave them to Nora - dealing with people at school, understanding where she truly “belongs” (before she realized that was a load of bull and she should just stop tunnel-visioning a perfect outcome and instead think about laying down a different road to her path). Nora and I share this trait where we can't sit still, but if something's up, we'd spend hours at the same place, even if it involves doing absolutely nothing. Plus, it takes both of us ages to respond to a message. Nora more than me, for sure, and half the time, she's just bored of the routine email chore (not a good sign in her line of work, but she manages.)

That's where the similarities stop haha.

She's a tough person. She throws a good punch, having undergone a lot of physical training to qualify for her NYPD officer job and more recently, for her private eye job (Mafalda had some strict requirements). She's also a great problem-solver as aforementioned. Besides the usual differences in physicality and all, she doesn't get startled easily - as in, the world could possibly end tomorrow and she'd still be at her desk, responding to a two-year old email. Her self-assurance at that instant (not anytime or anywhere else) but at that very instant is so strong, it is honestly remarkable.

Nora also enjoys doing things on her own. Whether it be making dinner from scratch, down to the bread-baking, deducing information (without relying on scraping the bowels of the internet) or stitching her clothes if they don't fit her. It was one of the only lessons her mother taught her before she passed. Which is also the reason why she doesn't like frozen food. More on that later.

What is most important to your MC / OC? What is their motivation in life?

Vengeance.

Just kidding.

It is actually vengeance. I don't know how else to put it.

Nora's been wronged by a lot of people in her life. From losing her mother because the hospital in charge neglected her to losing her father also because her co-workers neglected him, she went through pretty much the same neglect-arc in school and college. She was always dismissed as a “traumatized kid” half the time and the other half the time, people didn't listen to her when she'd say, for example, report a bully for what they did or critique a faculty member for showing their bias. It resulted in a lot of things that went wrong in her life - from not having a good support system to being an actual orphan when she was barely thirteen.

This kind of manifested in horrible ways when she was a kid. She suffered from a lot of anger issues and would immediately resort to physical violence if she were confronted. It isn't fair to blame her either, because she was so helpless. She'd wanted someone, just anyone to listen to her - to be there for her. This desire to help her child-self developed well into adulthood. Nora began building back the stability she never had. She's still doing it. She allows herself optimism even when she doesn't believe in anything. She puts her faith in the arbitrary workings of the universe so there's less burden to carry on her shoulders. Even though the things she tells herself aren't all perfect, they would be something her younger self would have appreciated so much.

Taking revenge for the child in her to rest easy, for the teenage girl in her to find joys in stupid things such as trashy television shows and emo music and for her to be at peace in her own skin without wanting to explode every five minutes has always been her plan ever since she grew up. That and simply because she uses it to feel more proud of what she does. When something isn't getting anywhere, she's like “Yeah well, f it, we'll get it done. A setback ain't shit.” It was always about the “we”.

Nora is also driven by the motivation to finish something as fast as possible. Everything is like cross-country running to her because she relishes in the satisfaction of getting a chunk of time just to herself right after getting something done. Which means she's either very good at jumping through hoops or crashes and burns. If something takes longer than her intended expectations, she'll drop it in an instant or table it until she gets her motivation back to finish it. It resulted in a lot of half-completed, archived projects but a few she's proud of, including having made her own quilts and bedsheets for the winter.

This mentality is something she can never get rid of. At school, she was either the best player on her soccer team or the absolute worst. (Hey, at least there's no in-between to her.)

What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

She hates frozen food with a burning passion. Being from a Chinese household, her parents, in the few good years they had with her - taught her the importance of a home-cooked meal or just any cooked meal. Nora, being the impressionable naive child she was, caught onto it and developed this visceral hatred for frozen anything. While she digs the convenience, she isn't a fan of how it tastes either - apart from her family values. This seeps into how Nora sees everything. She's the weird survivalist aunt with a shotgun in her closet because her personal goal is to make everything she consumes. From food, down to the clothes she wears or the curtains in her window, everything has to have had her work and hours put into it.

Nora is also not a fan of people who don't listen first and just yap, yap and yap. This is why she often got into “creative differences” with her co-workers in her precinct. This is also the reason why Mafalda gives Nora full control of the wheel when she isn't there at the Agency, because the fewer people yapping, the happier Nora is and the better she works.

As for visceral dislikes, boy oh boy does she have a lot:

Starting strong with the NYPD because they suck, point blank, period. She also thinks there's a special place in hell for people who just assume a lot and can get away with baseless accusations. She can understand broken promises - after all, people move on sometimes, and it's hard to keep track of them, but she draws the line at a proper betrayal. Words don't matter much to her, but actions do. Nora also isn't a fan of people who jump to the easiest conclusion just because it's easy. She’s seen a lot in her life not to automatically red-flag them. It’s worse when it comes from authorities, y’know people you’re taught to trust.

Also, people who gate-keep their expertise. She’s come across so many pretentious people who’d rather let an important investigation hit a dead end than worry about spilling their “trade secrets.” Kind of a niche dislike, but if you’re running out of time and your only hope banks on a mystery novelist’s ability to describe what he saw and tell the truth like his characters would have done, you too would be frustrated if he’d rather drink his coffee when he knows he’s purposefully jeopardizing the investigation’s momentum. And that’s just one of her ‘good’ experiences. Nora loathes academia and wouldn’t touch it even with a six-foot pole.

If your MC / OC could change one thing - anything - what would it be?

Be blessed with a readable medical textbook so she could diagnose her mother earlier than her doctors ever can (and) get magical surgery skills to revive her dad after he got stabbed.

She still regrets not being able to do anything because she was “just a kid”.Nora has learned to cope with it, knowing she can't do anything about it but she still has this itching feeling of what if things had turned out for the better. It's this heavy rock she's gonna have to deal with for sometime now.

Nora has this tricky relationship with her heritage. She isn't a fan of how different she is compared to the rest of her family and how they'd ostracized her after her settling down far from home. She wants to be able to change that aspect but knows it is too late to repair the damage. If she could go back in time and “pick a side,” she wouldn't have to feel the FOMO.

This regret of hers, however, is attributed to her never feeling she belonged somewhere among her family. Someday, she'd have to find her own family, own circle of friends, and culture to build. Someday, she'll learn that she's as valid to celebrate her heritage as her Aunt Mei or Uncle Tommy. That there aren't true extremes to anything there's no “one way” to be something, but until then, she's going to angrily sew back some loose stitches and groan about not being able to speak Cantonese as fluently as her relatives or being a “true” New Yorker.

Also maybe her hair. (Also it is so hard to draw her hair consistently.) Sometimes it gets in the way. And maybe fix her eyesight without needing contacts or glasses. Automatically give herself 20/20 vision whenever needed and blur her eyes out when she doesn't want to.

What is your MC / OC’s favorite quote or song?

It's hard to pick one song, because Nora listens to anything and doesn't really have a music ‘taste’ as long as the song she's listening to has some spunk to it. Something she relates to would be I Talk To The Wind by King Crimson. Combined with the slow pace and the lyrics that basically put her life as a picture, it's a bop.

Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC / OC? (It can be why you created them, how they’ve inspired you, or you could write a little blurb as if it is coming from your OC - an acceptance speech. :) )

I've struggled a lot with naming characters before but Nora's was the only time I knew her name wayyy before I could give her a personality. I was like “yep she's Nora, she's definitely one, yep.” and somehow I didn't anticipate how much she'd like, write herself and the story just writing itself. It literally popped into my head as outlandish as it may seem. And somehow that process worked because I don't ever run out of new headcanons to add.

Nora's also the first character I've created a 100k-worded introduction for (which will never see the light of day and is chucked into my files). I honestly expected her to just be fleeting. I'd make up something about her character, and I'd leave it at that, but nope.

She's the most organized person in the universe. Her clothes never had a chance to get folded since 1999. She is so methodic and yet will pull off stupid shit like kickboxing a door because she doesn't want to open it. Nora is the character to every character but she stops charactering if she's in front of any screen with something playing on it. She can calculate the angle she needs to throw something so it can hit something, but she fails at basic math at the checkout line. She's masterful at cooking up a storm in the kitchen but enters her flop era when she forgets to take her stuff from the oven when the timer beeps.

Honestly, Nora was such a good lesson in writing as well because people are not always black-and-white. Sometimes, their strengths are their weaknesses. Sometimes the things they are chasing after work against their benefit. Maybe their opinions are skewed after all, even though the narrative conditions into believing that they're the Hero character. They should be allowed to be terribly piss-pathetic poor at something before learning to solve the problem, and sometimes it's okay if they're just bad at something if they can improv a way forward.

Plus, she's cool and stuff. Sometimes.

#cfwc mc of the month #crimes of passion #inlocusmads #meet my mc #choices fic writers creations #playchoices #choices stories you play #january mc of the month

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