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#a spotted bat to be more specific
nctsworld · 8 months
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fever pitch
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✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k
SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.
WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!
RATING | mature
AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!
TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen
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Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.
Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.
Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—
Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.
But one in particular catches your eye.
Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.  
In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.
You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.
And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.  
Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.
“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.
Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.
Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”
Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”
Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”
Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.
“Want your usual?”
“Yes, please!”
However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—
“WATCH OUT!”
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With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.
“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”
You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”
“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”
Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.
“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”
All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.
“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”
You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”
You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.
Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”
Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.
Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.
“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”
“How would I know how to reach out to you?”
He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”
You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?
“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”
His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”
“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.
“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”
Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”
He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.
“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”
At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”
Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.
Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.
While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”
Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”
Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.
“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”
Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.
Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.
“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”
When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”
He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”
You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.
“Your head good though?”
You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”
In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”
Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again. 
But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.
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On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?
Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation. 
“Hey, everything okay?”
“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”
Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”
“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”
“Okay, okay.”
Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.
And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.
“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”
The camera’s now on Mark’s face.
The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.
He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.  
From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.
Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.
He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.
Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.
All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.
“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”
Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.
Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”
Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?
“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.
But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.
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The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow. 
You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.
Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.
Because for you, it’s game time.
Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?
The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.
As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.
This is perfect timing for you too.
However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—
And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.
Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else. 
But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.
Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.
“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”
His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”
He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.
“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”
At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.
Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.
He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”
“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”
After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”
You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles. 
Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”
“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.
“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”
“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”
“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck. 
You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”
“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”
“You don’t owe me anything—”
“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”
This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market. 
“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”
Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”
“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”
As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”
“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”
Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”
“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm. 
Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually. 
“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”
Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh. 
“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.
Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark. 
“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.
“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.
After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.
“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.
“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.
He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.
“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”
“Yes, definitely!”
Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.
“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.
Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.
“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.
Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.
“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”
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After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.
As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.
In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.
He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.
Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.
“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”
After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.
You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.
Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.
He twists around with his visor open.
“Ready?”
You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.
Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.
On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.
In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.
Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.
The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.
Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.
However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.
You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.
The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.
By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.
When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.
Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.
“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”
He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”
As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.
Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.
Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.
“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”
“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.
After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”
Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”
He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.
“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”
Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.
Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.
He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...
Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.
You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.
And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.
Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.
An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.
You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.
“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”
“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”
The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.
At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.
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Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.
Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.
The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.
His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).
It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.
Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.
Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.
Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.
Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.
Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.
“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”
It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”
He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.
“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.
“Neither do I.”
And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.
Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.
He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.
When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”
You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.
It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.
“Mark, please, just—”
Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.
The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.
Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.
With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.
As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.
“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.
“Huh?”
“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.
You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”
“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.
“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”
Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.
His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.
You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.
Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.
But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”
Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”
“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”
Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.
“You close?”
You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.
It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.
“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”
Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.
When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.
“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”
“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”
In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.
Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.
Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.
God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...
“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”
He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.
“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”
You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.
Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.
Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.
More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.
As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.
Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.
“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.
But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.
“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.
“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”
You hesitate with closed eyes.
“Could I... ride your arm?”
Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.
“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.
Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”
“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”
“Yeah?”
Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”
Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.
Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”
He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”
You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.
Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.
His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.
“This okay still?” you breathe.
“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”
You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.
“Oh, God,” Mark pants.
You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.
“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”
It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.
Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.
Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.
Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.
The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.
Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.
He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.
At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.
He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.
Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.
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As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.
There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...
And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...
It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.
He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.
Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.
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EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER
Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.
Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.
With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.
“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.
The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”
“Oh, my God, Chenle...”
“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”
You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”
“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.
Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.
Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.
“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.
“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”
Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”
“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”
“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”
Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”
“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”
You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.
“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”
In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.
After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”
You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.
“And you have me,” you add jokingly.
He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”
The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.
Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.
“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.
Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.
You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.
You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.
That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...
Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.
But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.
And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.
He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:
“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."
Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.
Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.
All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.
You immediately say yes.
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thatrandomsarahchick · 4 months
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DC x DP short
I'm picturing Danny moving to Gotham once he's an adult. He came out to his parents, and it went fine. More than fine. They listened to how he was struggling at school because he kept having to chase down the ghosts they let out by leaving the portal open. Jack was super proud of his son for being a ghost hunter even as a ghost, but Maddie understood his concern and set up some new protocols for the portal.
It now automatically closes after two minutes unless a specific command is put in by Danny to keep it open while he is in the Zone, and the shielding around it actually works to stop ghosts coming trig without hurting them now.
The shine of the mortal world has worn off for most of his regulars now, and those that come through have figured out compromises so they can still fulfil their obsessions without hurting others. The meta-protection act officially disbands the GIW, and Red Huntress is given a very thorough speaking to about personal bias and vendettas. She's not allowed back in the field until she comes to the realisation that ghosts are people too, and that she been the bad guy by hunting them the way she did. Phantom is officially recognised as a Hero, but he turns down working for any teams or joining the Big Leagues. He agrees to act as a back up though, in case of any world ending event.
By the time senior year rolls around, Danny has gotten his grades up enough that he can go to a pretty decent university if he wants to. He chooses Gotham University for his engineering degree because they're a feeder school for Wayne Enterprises, who in turn are a feeder company for working for the Justice League as a civilian engineer. Tucker also chooses GU for their tech program, while Sam elects not to go to university straight away.
Tucker and Danny move into an apartment right on the borders of Crime Alley and The Narrows. Tucker manages an impressive 4 months as a local hacker before Oracle notices him, but Danny only manages 3 weeks before he's spotted by a Bat.
He's lying down a foot above his building's roof, looking at the stars. It's a very rare cloudless night, and the power is out in his area. Poison Ivy had launched an attack earlier in the day that had taken cut the power lines, with her mutant plants feeding on the smog and pollution to get stronger.
Duke was up late, finishing the day shift by a quick loop of The Narrows, when he noticed a slightly glowing teenager(?) floating on one of the roofs. He takes note that the man isn't causing any harm and is just peacefully stargazing, before calling it in to Jason. He was technically supposed to be off the clock an hour ago, and besides, the building was on the Crime Alley side of this street. It's Jason's problem now.
Jason, on the other hand, is exhausted and just wants to have a quiet patrol before collapsing in bed. He hadn't been hit by Ivy's plants, but had taken a couple of tumbles while dodging them. He heads over to the address Duke gave him, to find the guy still floating there staring at the sky. He gets it, he does, he would float above the grime that coats Gotham rooftops if he could, but it's dangerous for a meta to be so unawares of his surroundings like this while obviously displaying his powers.
Danny, meanwhile, had clocked both of the vigilantes coming near him, but was really hoping that they would leave him alone. It had been a very long day for him. He'd finally managed to get to campus for his class, only to find that the place was covered in overgrown plants. He'd had to freeze a few to get into the building, and had then spent most of the afternoon in the library due to his class being cancelled. Unfortunately for him, his nearly finished assignment that he'd spent the day working on was eaten by one of the giant flowers on his way home. He'd been 'saved' by the stabby Robin, which had caused him to then also lose his laptop as they crashed to the rooftop a few streets over.
Thankfully, he had an amazing best friend in Tucker, who was doing his best to recover as much data as possible. On the downside, though, Tucker was mad at him for now having saved a backup of his files since they left Amity. He'd fled to the roof to escape his wrath, plans of bribes in the form of food running through his mind, when he'd caught sight of the Stars. Holy shit. It was so clear tonight!
He didn't even realise he'd begun to glow and float, too caught up in naming all of the stars and constellations he could see. His Obsession was feeling very satisfied tonight. Usually he had to invisibly fly above the cloud cover to see such a sight. Sure, the light pollution was still bad, but his mind was able to fill in the blanks across the sky.
The moment Jason landed on his roof, Danny heaved a great sigh. Damnit. The fun police were here. He wrenched his eyes from the sky, only to notice that - oh, shit - he was floating again. He fell to the roof with a light thump.
"Heeeyyy stranger, come here often?" Danny asked, as he rolled over to his side, propping his head up on his hand.
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arminreindl · 8 months
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Croc colours and patterns
Somewhat inspired by a recent post by Joschua Knüppe, I feel like it's a good thing to remind people just how diverse colours and patterns in modern crocodilians are. When I see people make art, it often seems to stick to grey or yellowish-brown tones, which is of course not incorrect. But theres a lot of, imo, underappreciated variety still. It's also worth noting beforehand that patterns are most striking in younger individuals and naturally become more muddy the older and larger an animal becomes. But as you will see, even some decently large and old animals may maintain a striking appearance.
Take this alligator for example. Gators tend to be on the darker side, dark greys to black, sometimes countershaded and sometimes pretty consistent. Some individuals, like this one photographed by Gar Luc, still retain clearly visible stripe patterns from when they are younger.
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Or take one of my favourite species, the Cuban Crocodile, which can appear almost bright yellow with a dense pattern of leopard spots. Of course like with the gator you can find individuals that are much more drab, with washed out colours, but individuals with clearly defined patterns still exist.
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Then there's gharials of course. They can range quite a bit in colouration. They can be brown, especially younger ones and females and I've seen males range in colour from a drab grey to almost a light blue or even something that could be described as metalic black.
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Black Caimans are also pretty interesting in my opinion and pretty easy to tell apart from other species once you pay attention to their colour. They are primarily a deep dark black of course, but what sets them apart from spectacled and other caimans is that very fine pattern of thin white stripes across the flanks that creates this beautiful contrast. They can also have patches of brown like the one on the right.
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Orinocos also vary a great deal. Tho I know less about them than I wish I did, I know that individuals can range from drab brownish greys to yellow to somewhat earthy browns that almost range into reds.
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The next ones a bit of an outlier. There are specific cave dwelling dwarf crocodile populations in western Africa with striking orange colouration. Tho this one is not exactly natural pigmentation to my knowledge and instead the result of the chemicals present in the water they inhabit, brought there by bat guano. Still very pretty animals.
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And then there's Paleosuchus, the dwarf caiman which contains two species. Again highly varied. The first image, which I believe is a Schneider's dwarf caiman, shows a very earthy brown. The others, which unless I'm mistaken are Cuvier's dwarf caimans, show colours ranging from dark with a rusty head, black to this still beautifully patterned individual. Of course these variations are also subject to change with age.
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While salties aren't exactly known to be the most vibrant, I'd be remissed if I didn't mention this specific one. It's kept in a zoo in Germany and has this almost bizarre colour combination of creamy white underbelly and chocolate brown top which I've never seen in another saltwater crocodile. Photos by my friends Markus Bühler from the Bestiarium blog and René Dederich
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Spectacled, Broad-snouted and Yacare caimans I'll give a quick shout out. I think most people are familiar enough with how they look like and while their colours aren't anything special, I still think one should appreciate their patterns of spots and stripes and facial markings.
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The last one I wanna highlight is the false gharial, Tomistoma, another one of my favourites. Part of the reason why being its at times beautiful reddish-brown colours.
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ririblogsss · 14 days
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Ok so I've read that OCD, can be a by product of trauma.
So what if Danny doesn't relize he is deeply traumatized by the events that happened in his early childhood. By that I mean with all the weapons and chemicals spills around his house and of course his untimely death.
He noticed that his home has no order whatsoever and that's what made it dangerous to live in. He only found comfort in his own room because it was the only space the could truly control, and make sure it was safe.
He started associating organization and cleanliness with safety and security. He has underling fear of coming into contact with contaminants, and that it will bring his whole world to collapse if he does indeed come into contact with one.
So lets say that a revel gone wrong, and Dannys put into foster care and then handed into the Wayne family.
At this point the Bats know that Danny used to be phantom, because lets be real they would immediately figure it out. Yet Danny has no clue they are the bats. He just believes they are a really big family with too much money to know what to do with it.
So Danny someone who has no clue he has OCD but presents most if not all the characteristics.
For instance:
Danny subbing the same spot on the rug for hours trying to get rid of it. Because in his mind if that spot stays bad things will happen.
On another instance he is seen organizing and reorganizing his shelf on a very specified order and continuously going back until he is satisfied.
When he goes to eat he always asks if the food was washed and cleaned properly multiple times.
He always counts if all his cleaning supplies he keeps are there in the morning.
He has a very strict schedule in which he doesn't break and refuses to break, especially his cleaning schedule.
Now the Bats are completely aware of this, and instead of making feel bad about it they help him and reassure him every time.
Examples:
Danny found that in the living room the rug was too dirty, because of the constant influx of people bringing in dirt with them. Of course Alfred always cleans it, but Danny needs to make sure himself. So one of the siblings would help him clean the rug his way, as Danny does it in a very specific way.
Another example is when Danny started cleaning during a movie night because of all the popcorn that was dropped on the floor. The rest just stopped the movie and helped him clean the area, and then resumed the movie careful not to spill more popcorn.
At one point the family was concerned because Danny was moving into a more dangerous zone of the compulsions, such as scrubbing his hands raw because he accidentally touch something 'dirty' without his special gloves.
So they made Bruce ask him if he wanted to go to a therapist and possibly a psychiatrist for his OCD. And Danny just said he didn't have OCD he just wanted things to be clean and organized like everyone else.
in the end he was convinced to go to a therapist so he could learn to manage living with OCD, but he was endlessly happy that he had people to fall back to that didn't judge him, and instead helped him out.
note:
(I just want to say that I don't have OCD myself but a lot of my family members do have it, and ive seen how it affects their daily lives. And I wanted to bring to light that people can't control their obsessions/compulsions but they can learn to manage it so they can live calmer with less anxiety. So I hope I made it as realistic as possible and didn't sound stereotypical or offensive)
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felinefractious · 4 months
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would you happen to be able to tell whats up with this guy? he has a very interesting fur pattern! appanretly his name is Bat and his from Thailand. source (theres more pics of him if you want to check)
Since I started this blog I’ve wanted to find this cat again but wasn’t sure how to even begin looking him up.
So thank you, especially for including the source!
Superficially it appears very similar to the charcoal coloration in the Bengal, albeit with what appears to be mackerel stripes instead of the distinctive rosettes.
He even has the characteristic “zorro” mask.
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(source: Tikka Sky Bengals)
Bat is featured on the Messybeast page as a “randomized charcoal pattern cat.”
He also reminds me a little of the grizzle pattern found in the Chausie breed, although obviously the similarity isn’t as close as it is with the charcoal pattern.
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(source: Osi the Chausie)
It appears that Bat passed away early last year but the page is steal featuring his son
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So we know whatever he has going on is inherited.
Thailand is known for the energence of wild, unique patterns in their cats. If you see a weird cat online that’s not edited or AI there’s a good chance it’s from Thailand.
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(source: Indian Spring Cats)
Like the Wila Krungthep or Bangkok mocha.
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(source)
Or cats with atypical white spotting, many of which sport a dashing dorsal stripe.
So I don’t have a specific answers. Maybe @amber-tortoiseshell has a better idea?
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samandcolby-ownme · 2 months
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The people wanted Colby angst & the people are getting Colby angst.
Summary: After a long, on and off, secret relationship with Colby, reader finally has had enough, or have they?
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, angst, kinda sad, arguing/fighting, mentions of alcohol, flirting, reader is the lead singer in a rock band, slight mentions of depression/anxiety, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, unprotected shower make up sex, filth
Word count: 6.8K | NOT edited
Inspired by the song, The Grey by Bad Omens. I will also be using a few of their other songs, so if you haven't listened to them, you definitely should. Noah Sebastian is chefs kiss 💋
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
The relationship you had with Colby was the first relationship you kept going back to.
You knew he was bad for you, mainly because it felt like he was holding you back more than pushing you forward, but you loved him with everything you had in you.
When you were together, just the two of you, it was pure bliss. Like seeing love through rose colored lenses.
But it never failed to change with each launch party of a new album or even an after party for playing at a sold out show.
Colby couldn't contain his jealously, but yet, he's the one who wanted to keep your guy's relationship secret in the first place.
He didn't want the lime light, he wanted to have you all to himself, but he failed to realize that with your career growing, so would your popularity grew with it.
You broke up for a while, spent a few weeks apart. You worked on your new album some more. Colby hung out with Sam, investigating the paranormal some more.
You and Sam were good friends, so around the time Sam told you they'd be back, you got that, can we talk? text from Colby, and ever since then, you've been better than ever.
You agreed to understand him wanting to stay out of the spot light, so in public you were friends usually have dinner with other friends, but when it came to your band, they knew which meant you could kiss each other in front of them and they wouldn't bat an eye.
He's come to your studio sessions. Sat up until three am with you while you wrote down and hummed to random song lyrics. He's even been front row at sound checks.
He's become an even bigger number one fan and you absolutely loved it.
Things seemed to be going in the right direction for a while, and you were thinking about talking to him again about going public, mainly because you wanted more from him.
More with him.
You thought that since your relationship was in such a good place and haven't called it quits for the sixth time, it could work.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Here's to y/n. Her talent is what got us here in the first place." Your guitarist, Lewis, raises his glass and everyone follows in with a loud, "To y/n."
You laugh, leaning into Colby. He lays his arm over you, taking a sip from his drink, "You really deserve this, babe." He smiles, planting a kiss on your temple.
You smile, taking a sip from your glass, "Let's face it though, I would be here without you guys." You motion to the rest of your band, "So let's give a toast to the people who stand beside-" you point to your drummer, Hunter,"And sit behind me on stage."
Hunter laughs, "Thanks for being so specific, y/n."
You nod, "Of course."
You look at Colby, "And thank you, for supporting me no matter what we go through."
He smiles, "I love you."
"I love you." You lean in, pecking his lips before turning to face your band, "Who's up for another round, huh?"
A few hours later, you and Colby arrive back to your house.
"So when's the album supposed to be finished?" Colby asks as he sits on the couch. You shrug your jacket off, walking over, "Hopefully by the end of the month. I have almost eight tracks so far? I want there to be at least ten."
"Are you going to release a single?" He extends his arm out as you sit down next to him, "Your singles are always a banger."
You laugh slightly and shrug, "I've thought about it. I mean, I have ideas but-"
Colby's phone buzzes and he ignores it.
Probably just Sam, you think, "I haven't really-" Colby's phone buzzes again, "Do you need to get that?"
He shakes his head, "I'm not worried about it. I'm worried about you." He pulls you closer and kisses your head, "So what are these ideas you have for a single?"
You blow out air, resting your head back onto his arm, "I'd have to go get my notebook, my brain is still kinda fuzzy from the show and then the post show alcohol."
You get up, laughing to yourself as you walk into the room that holds all your music equipment. You grab the notebook and turn around to walk back out, slowing down when you see Colby on his phone.
As much as you wanted to trust him and move forward, a part of you still had anxiety when it came to him with certain things.
You slowly walk over, "So."
He locks his phone and sets it down on the couch next to him, "Let's hear something." You sit down, facing him, "Okay. So I think these are going to go all in one song, but I so far I have I'm drowning in a dream I can't escape."
Your eyes can down over the page, "Then I have, ninety miles in the dark and family scars and electric hearts? I don't know there just something.." you look up at him, "That comes to me? I guess."
It was going so well, you didn't want to tell him that you were using your past times trying to make it work as a muse.
You weren't sure how he would take it, fine, probably. But at the same time, you didn't want to risk it.
"So Colby.." you set your notebook down, "I was thinking."
"Oh boy." He chuckles, "no, really. What's up?"
You smile as you move closer to him, "I was thinking that maybe we can.. grow.. more in this relationship?"
He tilts his head, looking over at you, "What do you mean?"
"I think you know what I mean." You look up at him, "I want more with you, Colby. I want to go out and be able to hold hands with you at a restaurant. I want to eventually get a house with you." You sigh, "I want marriage, Colby."
He stays quiet for a few seconds, "I've been thinking about it, too."
You raise your eyebrows, "Really? You have?"
He nods, sliding his hand up to grip your chin, "You are such a beautiful and talented woman, y/n. You genuinely surprise me every day I'm with you."
You smile and he leans in, "I love you."
You run your hand through his hair and lean in to close the space between the two of you, "I love you." You press your lips to his and move your head to rest your chin on his shoulder as he pulls you into a hug.
You glance down as his phone lights up and your heart starts racing as the name Serenity appears on the screen, "Who's Serenity?" You lean back and you can tell Colby is caught off guard, "It's.. No one, y/n. I promise."
You lean back and he tries to grab your hand, "Just wait.." you rip your hand away, placing it on your cheek, "Colby.. I thought.." you can feel tears burning in your eyes, "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"
"She isn't anything, I mean she was but-"
You cut him off, "When?"
"What?"
You raise your voice a little bit louder, "When. Colby, when was she ever anything?"
He stands up, "When we broke up this last time. I met her while Sam and I were in Georgia. It wasn't anything. I missed you, so that's why I-"
"You missed me? So you went and found someone to.. what, exactly? Distract you from the thought of me?" You throw your hands up, "Just when I thought things were changing."
"They are!" He says loudly, "They are! I haven't talked to her since the day before we left. I was focused on you because you're fucking everywhere y/n. but How can I get over you if-"
You raise your brows and he shakes his head, "No, that came out wrong.. I didn't.. I didn't it mean it to sound like that, I don't want to get over you." Colby walks over to you and you just stand there staring at the spot he walked away from.
He slides his hand up your arm, "I promise you it is and was nothing. Just a conversation.
"Did you sleep with her?" Your words are cold and you look at him. He shakes his head, "No. no we didn't do anything, and even if it did progress, which it didn't. Sam wouldn't have let anything happen, you know that?"
"Then why is she calling and texting you at three in the fucking morning?" You groan, "God, Colby. I genuinely thought we were going somewhere this time? All the times you showed up for me when you didn't before?" What was that just a cover so I didn't suspect anything?"
He shakes his head, "No, y/n. It's not like that at all."
"How can.." your voice breaks, so you pause, taking a deep breath before you sigh, "How am I supposed to believe you when you've done this shit before?"
"What are you talking about?" He tilts his head, "Please, tell me. I would lo-"
"Second time we got back together, I seen a Mariah on your phone. She was sending hearts, saying that if, and I quote, 'you and your mystery girl break up again, you know where to find me' end quote." You keep your stare on him, "we broke up shortly after getting back together that time, because things were getting too serious too fast, as you said."
"That wasn't.. she was.." he sighs, "We're talking about things over the course of a year or so, y/n. I didn't think I was ready to be with someone like you."
"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean exactly?" You cross your arms and he sighs, "Again, didn't mean for it to sound like that."
"Just go."
Your words catch him off guard, "Huh?"
"Go. Get out." You point to the door, "I can't..." you close your eyes, begging yourself not to cry, "I can't keep doing this. Shutting myself down, trying to change you or even trying to change myself, Colby."
"Who's changing? What are you talking about?" He steps closer to you and you shake your head, looking up at him, "I just.. I guess I just gave you too many chances and you literally ran through them all."
You groan, "Fuck, I literally have everything I could ever want, but it obviously still isn't enough."
"Enough for what, y/n? You're enough for me." Colby's voice goes quieter, "Please." He steps towards you, wrapping his hands round your wrists, "Can you just please, sit down. Read the messsges. Time stamps. Everything."
"I just wanted more, Colby. More from you. This isn't.." you shake your head, "I just want to finally be with someone who doesn't leave me falling asleep confused every night."
"No, don't let me go." He rests his forehead against yours, "I mean it. I'm serious this time. I don't want anyone else but you."
"Who even am I anymore, Colby? Honestly." You step back, pulling your hands free from his grasp, "I literally don't even know who I am anymore. A singer who allows someone to just keep hurting her over and over again?"
"Y/n." Colby shakes his head, "Just please, hear me out."
"You had the chance to tell me. When we got back together.. I told you about the guy I had dinner with. I didn't even want to do it but I was so pissed at you for that Mariah girl, I just.. tried evening the score but I guess that didn't fucking matter, now did it?" You pace back and forth, feeling like you could puke.
"The thought.. of you even.." you lay your hands on your lips, "Being with another girl is enough to make me drop dead."
"I was never with any other girl, y/n. You have to-"
You cut him off, "No. I'm done. I'm done with this grey area of us that can only be seen when it's just us. It's not what I want, you know what I want and you just..." you look at him, "Clearly arent on the same level as me, you never were."
"But I am." He pleads and you shrug, "sure doesn't seem like it to me." You sigh, "Just.. go. Please."
"I'm not giving up on us, you can't just dig another grave and let me go, not like this." He stays in his spot and you just stare at him, "Colby. I'm tired. I have a headache, I'm not... I'm not doing this anymore. Just please, go home."
"Fine. But I promise, I'm not giving up. I'll give you space but I'll prove that I want you." He grabs his keys, walking towards the door.
You want to stop him but it's like your body is frozen in its place. You can't move, no matter how much you want to.
He gives you one last look before closing the door and you immediately break down, falling to your knees and leaning up against the couch.
You're gasping for air, clutching your chest as you try not to cry too loud.
You wanted Colby, but you didn't want the hurt that comes along with it anymore.
A part of you believed him, but at the same time, a part of you knew that you needed to let go.
Then it hit you.
Turn the pain, into power.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Over the last two weeks, the only time you'd leave your house was to go to the studio. You had a new song in that was practically almost down.
A new single, and you had Colby to thank for that.
Other than that, you laid at home, in the dark usually just thinking about everything, Colby mainly.
It's been two weeks and you've barely made the effort to answer him. But you always do. Whether it's just him one word answers, or you wait hours, you can't seem to stay away from him no matter how much you wanted to.
That was until you got a text from him that set you off almost instantly, it feels like we don't talk anymore and you don't seem to care.
You sit up in bed, scoffing as your thumbs tap the screen at lightning speed. As you're in the middle of your paragraph, he sends you another text, I knew that would get your attention.
You clench your jaw. selecting your paragraph and deleting it to which you replacing with, what do you want, Colby?
He instantly replies, I want you to see that I love you.
You stare at the message, unable to come up with a response. He texts again, After your show tomorrow, I'm going to prove to everyone that I'm ready to join you in the spotlight you stand in.
You've been so caught up in your own shit, you forgot about the show you have scheduled for tomorrow.
Another sold out show.
You respond to Colby's text, what? Are you gonna join me on stage?
You laugh slightly as you click out of Colby's text thread and go to your bands group chat, meet me at the studio. We're playing that song tomorrow night.
Your eyes move up to the banner notification with Colby's text that reads, you'll see, baby.
A smirk plays at your lips, until you remember that you're mad at him.
Why you're mad at him.
You toss your phone down, getting up to change before you make your way to the studio.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You walk into the venue, looking around in awe at the place you'll be playing. Thousands of seats scattered all around.
You were in shock each time you stepped foot into one of these places.
"Can't believe we'll be playing here tonight." Lewis walks up, slinging an arm over your shoulder, "You doin' okay?"
You sigh, crossing your arms, "Colby's coming tonight, and he says he has something planned to tell everyone he loves me. I don't.. really know how to feel but.."
You look up at him, "The show must go on, right?"
He tilts his head, "He isn't used to being with someone as pretty and famous as you are, y/n. I'm not trying to take his side, but maybe what happened between you guys, really opened his eyes."
You shrug, "I love him to death, but if we keep going in this direction, I don't think either one of us will make it out alive."
Lewis snaps his fingers, humming as he thinks.
You smirk, turning to face him, "What are you cooking in that head of yours?"
"Da da da.. da da.. da da.. Will we both go home alive? It wasn't hard to realize, love's the death of peace of mind? Think we can make a song about it?"
You laugh, thinking about it, "You know what." You nod, "Studio session. You and me. Tomorrow." You point at him and look over, seeing Sam walk towards you.
You walk over to him, bringing him in for a hug, "What are you doing here?" He hugs you and sighs, "Had to make sure my two people weren't going to kill each other, you know."
"So you heard about the argument.." you step back, crossing your arms over one another, "Sorry I didn't.. call you."
"Colby filled me in." He nods, "Plus I figured if you needed me you'd call."
"I haven't talked to anyone about what happened.. I mainly out focus into a song." You look at him and he tilts his head, "Does he know?"
You shake your head, "But he will tonight."
Sam wraps an arm around your neck, "You people and your song making." You shrug, "I felt like I couldn't explain it, no matter how hard I tried, so I wrote a song about it myself."
He laughs slightly, "What's it called?"
You bite the inside your lip, "The Grey."
"Hmm." He nods, "I'm actually really excited to hear it." He looks around, "Can't believe you sold this place out." He pulls you into him, "I'm proud of you, kid."
You laugh, rolling your eyes, "Thank you. Thank you." You sigh, "So is he here?"
Sam shakes his head, "Not yet. He's coming with our other friends later on." You nod, "Do you-"
"No. I don't know what he has planned." Sam laughs, "Nice try."
"Hey, couldn't hurt, right." You laugh and look up at Hunter who's waving at you. You nod, giving him a thumbs up, "I gotta go. Sound check you know."
"So I'll hear a snippet of the song?" Sam raises a brow and you shrug as you walk away, "Guess you'll find out."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You bounce up and down slightly, taking a deep breathes as your nerves for this show are a lot higher than they've been for any other show.
Colby was in the audience this time.
Not hiding behind the curtain, off to the side like he has for every other show he's been to.
You wanted to know what he was planning, it's driven you crazy since he first said something about it yesterday.
"You're gonna kill it." Hunter says nudging you as he walks by. Lewis walks up, putting on his guitar, "It's just like any other show."
"Let's hope." You laugh slightly before putting your inner ears in, shaking out your hands before taking the mic from your stage director.
The band walks out into stage, taking their places and the music to the first song starts playing.
You put on a smile, walking out when you hear your cue. You move around stage as you sing your first song, waving to the fan.
You walk over to the mic stand, placing your mic in the holder as you finish, "How's everybody feeling tonight!?"
A massive sea of screams erupts in front of you and you can't help but smile, "Thank you all for being here. Another sold out show!"
You clap and the fans erupt again.
"I have something very special towards the end of tonight's show!" You look back at the band, laughing when the fans go crazy, "Too bad you won't know what it is until the end, "Anyway. Here's Like a Villain."
The rock music starts and you slowly head bang to the music, rocking your mic stand as you wait for your time to start singing.
Colby is heavy on your mind, so heavy you almost miss your cue, "Look into my face, then look again. We are not the same, we're different.."
You smile as you see the fans dancing and singing along. You absolutely loved being on stage.
You continue singing verse one, "You need a new clean slate without the dents. A place to put your pain, your consequence.. When you look into the mirror, are you even there?"
You take a breath, grabbing the mic off the stand. You bend down slightly as you belt out the chorus, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."
You walk around the stage as you sing, giving them a performance. You dance around during the little break, walking over to the other side as you start to sing the second verse, "So write a brand new page, then write again. I know your act is staged, yet you pretend.."
Finishing the second verse, you move into the chorus again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."
You move back to the mic stand, resting it back in its holder as you wait for your cue for the bridge, gently singing, "Like a villain, I couldn't be I didn't need it, it needed me.. Like a villain, I couldn't be. I didn't need it, it needed me.."
It goes into the breakdown and your eyes scan the crowd and you see Sam and Colby standing in the VIP section of the pit.
Your heart skips a beat, and you start to sing again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself.."
The song goes into the outro and the band stops playing and the crowd goes crazy.
That one is always a hit.
You felt on top of the world right now.
You literally did have everything, but you still wanted more, just like your new song says. Just like you told Colby.
You were nervous. The closer you got to performing it for the very first time.
You weren't sure how Colby was going to react. Sam was the closest person to him, but you knew he wouldn't say anything.
At least you hoped he wouldn't.
A few songs later, almost ready to close out the show, you take a deep breath, "You guys have been absolutely phenomenal tonight!"
You raise your hands above your head, clapping for the crowd, "I mean it. I think this is the best crowd we've had this year so far."
The crowd screams and you sigh, "Alright guys.. so that surprise I was talking about earlier.." you pause, letting the crowd scream, "Alright, so I may or may not have been in the studio these last two weeks trying to get out a new single, and let's just say.." you pause, smirking out at the crowd, "I've done just that."
You laugh, grabbing your mic off the stand and walking around, "This single means.. a lot to me, for a few reasons and I'm very excited to announce that it will be out...."
The crowd go crazy, yet again, chanting in unison, "Tell us! Tell us!"
"Okay okay." You wave your hand, "I don't know when it'll be out, but we're going to play it for you right now."
You walk back over to the mic stand, giving your band a thumbs up, and they start playing.
You nod your head to the slow moving, then quick to pick up pace, "Evened the scores, then I let it all go fall apart." You take a quick breathe, "And every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah.."
Your heart was pounding harder with each line, "Looking sideways when I say I'm okay with the past But I'm afraid of what I might say if you ask.."
You grab your mic, walking to the left of the stage, away from the side Colby was on, going into the pre-chorus, "Gave you way too many chances, you ran through 'em all..Got everything I could want, but it wasn't enough.."
"Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call.."
You take a breath, "Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.."
"Yeah, I still wanted, more.."
You walk towards the right side of the stage, smoothly transferring into the chorus, "There's not another way, don't let me go.. Don't dig another grave today..."
"I'll make the same mistakes, I'll never know Who I was before I faded away.. Into the grey.."
You knew Colby knew. You were sweating.
You had a little break before you went back in for the second verse, "All of this time sittin' inside, sittin' in the dark.. And every night, I can see why you could never stop, yeah.."
"Lying is hard and the truth comes out anyway.. You're going way too far, gonna drop dead at this rate.."
You sing the chorus again before grabbing the mic, moving to the right of the stage, directly in line of sight from Colby.
You lay your hand on your chest, tapping it with the words of the post-chorus, "I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down and I'll never be the same."
"I did it to myself, tried to be someone else..And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.."
You drag out the last word and the crowd goes absolutely insane.
You smile as you sing the words to the bridge, then moving into the chorus one final time before moving back to your mic stand to close out, "Into the grey."
You step back from your mic stand and smile, looking out over the crowd.
Your eyes land on Colby and he's clapping and shaking his head with a smile on his face.
He pulls out his phone, turning around to record him and you on the stage. Sam starts smiling and laughing as he gives you a double thumbs up.
You blow a kiss to him, laughing as you wave and then suddenly the fans go even crazier.
You look down, shrugging as you ask, "What is happening?" You being the mic up to your lips, "Why are we having a second rush of cheering, I mean I appreciate it but, fill me in. Please."
You point to one of the girl's phone and security grabs it, handing it to you.
You watch the video play. It's what you watched Colby do, but you didn't know exactly what he did. You smile as you reach up to take your in ear out, "I have to be able to hear it right?"
The girls in front go absolutely insane screaming things you can't comprehend, "Okay, okay. Hold on."
You bring the phone up to your ear and you wanted to cry.
This is what you wanted all along.
Colby screams into the phone, "That's my fucking girlfriend." You hand security back the phone and the girl screams, "is it true? Is it true?"
You smile, giving her a nod, "Yes." You look up, bringing the mic to your lips, "Alright everybody. Thank you guys so much for a great show. We will definitely be back! I love you!"
You put your mic into the stand, waving as you run off the stage. You make your way back and your manager comes up to you, "Oh my god, y/n. That song. Top of the charts. You need to release it immediately."
You laugh, "I'll get it out tomorrow." You look over his shoulder, seeing Sam and Colby walk down the hallway, "Excuse me." You walk around him, making your way to the boys.
Sam gives you a hug, squeezing you tight, "Phenomenal."
You lean back, smiling, "Yeah?"
He nods, "Absolutely fucking insane." He moves to the side and you look up at Colby, "Are you mad?" He tilts his head, "Are you mad?"
You shake your head, chewing on your chew as you try not to smile, "No."
"Good." Sam lays his hands on each of your one shoulders, "Now kiss and make up." He pushes you towards each other and you laugh, wrapping your arms around Colby's neck.
You press your lips to his and lean back, "We gotta go. I need a shower. I was sweating because I thought you weren't going to like the song."
"I'll only be mad if it doesn't make top of the charts." He laughs, following you to your dressing room, along with Sam.
You walk in and go over to your bag, grabbing sweats and a sweatshirt, "I'm going to change quick." You walk behind the solid partition, quickly changing from your stage outfit into something comfy.
"So it was a good show?" You ask walking out to toss your stuff into your bag. You pull out your slippers, dropping them to the floor.
"Ten out of ten, will come to one again." Sam gives you a thumbs up. You smile, looking at Colby, "Ready to go home?"
He nods, "Yes. Please."
You zip your bag, walking over to Colby and taking his hand in yours. He gives your hand a squeeze and follows you out.
As you walk out, you see fans waiting by the one barricade, "I'm going to go see them." Colby nods, "Let's go."
You smile as you walk over, moving in between the two security guards. Colby takes your bag, waving and saying hi to the fans that call out for him.
"So you're Colby's girlfriend?" The one asks and you nod, smiling as you sign her paper, "I sure am."
"You looked so beautiful tonight." Another one says and you pout, "Stop it, you're so beautiful."
You turn, taking the one girls phone and taking a few selfies with her.
You do that with a few more and step back, "I hate to go, but I am exhausted. Thank you guys so much for coming out. I love you I love you!" You blow kisses to them and wave as you walk way, Colby glued to your hip.
"You're so cute when you do that." Colby opens the car door for you and you smile, "I love them. I want them to know that."
You get in, Colby moving to sit next to you.
"So. I have to ask." You turn to him, "Why now?"
He shrugs, placing his hand on your knee, "You wanted a huge gesture and our figured doing it at your show was pretty big."
You laugh, "I mean, yeah. And tweeting it.."
"I know we have some of the same fans so I figured if I tweet it, one was bound to see it and you know how fast that shit spreads." He squeezes your leg, "I'm just.. I wish I could prove to you how sorry I am."
"I mean.." you lay your hand on his hand, sliding it up his arm, "you're doing good so far... but I have a few more ideas.."
"Mm." He leans in, "Do tell." He kisses your cheek and you smile, "I'll tell you when we get home."
"But home is so far." He whines quietly, "Just one thing.. yeah?"
You turn your head, biting your lip as you look at him, "Don't push it." You laugh, pressing your lips to his and you couldn't wait to be home.
Soon enough, but it felt like forever, you and Colby are running up to the door. You work to unlock it as his hands slip under your sweatshirt.
"Almost.." You sigh, "Got it." You push the door open, turning around to face Colby as you walk backwards into your house.
His lips go to yours and your arms go around his neck as he kicks the door shut with his foot.
As you're making out, the post-show adrenaline wears off and you push yourself off of Colby, "Wait."
"Don't do this." He sighs and you shake your head, "How do I know it'll be different this time? How did I know that you'll be able to contain your jealousy and everything else that tore us apart before?"
A smirk grows on his lips and you tilt your head, "What?" He walks over to you, cupping your cheeks to give you a kiss before whispering, "I'm not jealous anymore because everyone knows you're mine."
He bends down slightly, lifting you up, "Now let's go get that shower, yeah?"
You smile, your hands on either side of his neck as he walks you into the bathroom. He pins you up against the wall, holding you up with his hips as he reaches in to turn on the water.
The bathroom quickly fills with steam as he sets you down so you can undress.
Hands are all over. Lips are kissing any part of your bodies they can get to.
It's hot.
He steps in, pulling you in with him and he spins you around as he closes the door. You gasp as your back presses up against the cool tile of the shower.
A moan escapes from your lips as his fingers move down to circle your clit, "F-fuck."
"This was I needed to do?" Colby asks and you shrug, lips parted slightly as you nod, "Kind of."
He hums in response, dropping down to his knees, "Or was it this." He lifts a leg, placing it on his shoulder before leaning in to lick between your folds.
Your hands move to his wet hair, tangling your fingers in as you arch your back off the wall.
His tongue circling your clit before gently nipping and sucking. You moan, tilting your head back as you close your eyes.
You missed him between your legs.
You missed him in general.
"C-Colby." You breathe out, "S-shit."
You look down at him, biting on your lip as you watch the image below you. His fingers dig into your skin and you roll your hips, "Yes, yes, yes."
He brings a hand over, slipping two fingers into you which earn a whine from your lips.
You pull his hair slightly harder which causes him to groan. The stroke of his fingers is absolutely perfect, he knows your body better than anyone.
"F-fu- co- col-" You squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasure of his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit.
He knew you were close, so he kept that pace as best he could.
Your hips buck out, moaning loudly as you push his gave into you, "Colby!" You clench around his fingers, your legs shaking more and more with each second you have to hold yourself up.
Colby leans back, setting your leg down on the floor but keeping a hand on your waist as he stands back up, "I fucking love you." He tilts your chin up and presses a kiss to your lips.
Your tongue moves in sync with his as he lets out a low groan as you wrap your hand around his cock, "Fuck. I need you."
You smirk at his words, "Fuck me."
He leans down, lifting you up and your arms wrap around his neck. He cautiously slips his one arm under your knee and you reach down to hold his cock steady as he slips into you.
You let out a loud moan, tilting your head back as you feel him rest inside of you.
"Look at me, baby." Colby whispers.
You tilt your head up, tightening your arms around his neck. He watches your face twitch as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in.
You keep your eyes on him, forcing yourself to keep them open as you squeeze his cock, "Fuck, Colby."
He leans in, pressing his lips to yours and you slide a hand up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.
"I love you." Colby mumbles against your lips, "It's always been you."
You moan into his mouth, digging your nails into his skin, "Don't leave me again." His lips attach to your neck, sucking a mark into your skin.
You moan, tilting your head to the side. Your eyes flutter closed as he kisses his way over your collar bones, making his way to the other side, "Never.."
He stops thrusting, resting inside of you, "I'm not going anywhere, and I plan on making sure everyone knows it."
You smile, nodding your head, "No more grey area?"
"Full on color, baby." He smiles and brings his hand up to cup your cheek, moving his lips with yours.
He sets you down, spinning you around so your chest is pressed against the glass shower door. His hand slides up to wrap around your neck, squeezing a moan from you as he slips his cock back in.
"F-Fuck." You whimper, pressing a hand to the glass and dragging it down. Your eyes roll back as he squeezes harder, cutting off your moans from sounded loud.
His thrusts are slow and hard, digging his fingers into your waist harder with each one, "F-fucking hell, baby."
He lets go of your neck and you gasp for air as he slides his hand to your shoulder, gripping it as he thrusts faster.
A string of moans and whimpers leaves your lips as his thrusts grow sloppy. He leans forward, resting his head on the back of yours and you can tell he's going to cum soon.
"Not gonna last much longer." He whispers, his voice raspy as he tries to hold it together, "Fuck, fuck."
"Don't stop." You moan out, "pl-ease don't stop."
You move your hips back into him, moaning loudly as you feel yourself growing closer, quite quickly.
"C-Colby!" His name leaves your lips in a scream as you cum around him once more. You moan, feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you.
You knew he came with you.
He lets his grip on your loosen, leaning up as he slides his hand down your back, "Incredible." He pulls you to stand up, his cock falling out as you turn.
Your lips meet his and he pulls you close to him.
After your shower, you walk out with a towel wrapped around you. Colby is lying on the bed and you can tell he's nervous about something.
"What?" You ask, stopping in your tracks, "What happened?"
He sits up, shaking his head, "Nothing, I'm just.. thinking.."
"Oh god, are you about to-"
"No, no. It's not what you think." He laughs slightly, brushing your wet hair from your shoulders, "I just don't know if this is the right time, but I feel like I need to just.."
Your heart is racing and your mind is moving too fast for you to even pick one thought to focus on, "Just say it." You blurt out and Colby sighs, "Fine. I will."
He takes a step back, getting down on one knee as he pulls out a ring from his pocket, "I don't even know if it's the right time but it feels like it and I jus-"
You cut him off by falling to your knees in front of him,  eyes glassy as you look from the ring to him, "Yes."
"I- what? Yes?" His mouth drops and he smiles, "You think it's the right time?"
"You told everyone I was your girlfriend at my show." You pluck the ring from his fingers, a smirk on your face, "Now at the next one, I can tell them I've been upgraded to fiancé."
He stands up and pulls you to your feet. He places the ring on your left hand and sighs, "I promise, we're going to work."
You look up at him, "We're endgame."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
I hope you liked it. As always, tell me what you think. Thanks for wanting more from me. It means SO much to me! Love you all!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken @skyslondon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @this-is-not-eirini
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radioisntdead · 17 days
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Hi can I request alastor x Vox's sister reader? Reader isn't a tech demon like Vox and kinda the opposite of when it comes to technology.
Basically the equivalent of someone who's so bad at cooking they could burn water except with technology. And maybe Vox didn't know they were down in hell and only found out well spying on Alastor and reader accidently does that destroys a tech thing.
You dont have to do it if you'd dint want to and sorry its so long I hope it's not to weird or specific.
Good evening My dear! I may have gone slightly overboard, I had fun with this request!
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You know where to find me, I know where to look.
Alastor x female reader, Vox & sister reader
Warnings!!
Vox being a creepy lil tv creeper, implied Radiosilence, Alastor plots to take out the reader at one point, both reader and Alastor are on the Aroace spectrum, Am I projecting a little? Yes
Reader has beef with microwaves, not proof read apologies for any spelling mistakes, Leaning into fanon territory here! Ending a little scrambled because it's 7 am and I am supposed to be up in three hours.
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Vox's sister was something he didn't talk about often or at all, maybe a brief whisper of "[Name] would like this"
when he saw something she would like but nothing more, while Vox had managed to live up until the 50's you had died before him, a unspecified illness had taken your life, he suspected it was from you over working yourself but he couldn't prove it, all he knew was that you were more then likely in heaven with the angels, probably doing whatever you please.
He'd like to see his sister again after all the two of you were little troublemakers growing up, sneakily stealing the freshly baked cookies your mother made, spraying the neighbors son with the hose when he shoved Vox onto the ground or throwing rotten eggs at the neighbors other son who tried to pull your pigtails, although you did fight a fair amount, with you chasing him down with a baseball bat after he had broken the head off of your doll one time.
When the war took the life of your father and heartbreak took your mother's years after, when the two of you were in the middle of your teenage years, the two of you only had each other, you had each other's backs, even if you disapproved of your brothers obsession with the up and coming TV technology, it worked in his favor once he landed a job working with it, managing to scramble up the connections to get you a nice job as some guys secretary, it paid well and the guy wasn't stupid enough to mess around with Vox's sister.
To his knowledge you didn't get involved in the field politics like he did, where he trampled over the weak ones, stealing ideas and parading them off as his own when his own ideas were rejected, And the other things he did to get to the top, you were a decent person, a woman far beyond her time one would say.
However unknown to him his sister was causing up trouble in her own right, finding the weak spots of her bosses and exploiting them via blackmail or something amongst those lines, and if they refused to be blackmailed by her? Not even giving her a pretty penny to keep her mouth shut about their affairs? Their deals? Their tax fraud? Well the newspaper would have a field day with the scoop she anonymously dropped off.
Both siblings were doomed to fall below, maybe if they had perished around the same time they wouldn't had been separated, maybe she would've even joined the Vee's!
But they perished separately, years apart.
You met Alastor not long after dying, the deer radio host befriending you rather quickly.
Deer were ironically one of your favorite animals, and you always did prefer the radio as opposed to your brothers television, maybe that's why you foolishly put your trust in a friendship with Alastor, that was repaid with the Radio demon reluctantly falling for your charms, you falling for his,and not with him trying to eat you or making a deal with him and taking your soul.
Vox similarly had met Alastor after he had perished, and they were on friendly terms up until Alastor had, to be blunt rejected Vox's proposal, and then vanished for seven years.
Not once in those years of supposed friendship did Vox learn about you, he didn't even know the radio demon had a spouse, let alone that it was his own sister,
It's not that Alastor was ashamed of you or anything, he simply didn't think Vox was important enough to introduce you too, even when you were considered just a good friend and not his spouse, he considered Vox a supposed, one friend but not to the level of Rosie for example,
Rosie was the first person to know about you
Most types of modern technology would fizzle out or explode in your hands, you learned this the hard way after purchasing a flip phone and it exploded in your hands once you turned it on.
Alastor did NOT let you live that down, saying that it was your fault for trusting in faulty modern technology, eventually after some experimenting with random technology it was discovered that anything from the 2000's forward were practically expensive bombs for you,
Alastor took great joy in snatching up modern electronics and placing them in your hands to be rid of them before taking care of the unfortunate sinner that owned them, either making a snack out of them or taking their soul in a deal.
You didn't mind it much, was it somewhat inconvenient? Yes without a doubt, everyone kept their electronics away from you, you could be talking to Angel and he'd slide his phone far away from you, was that a bit much? Probably but if he pissed you off enough for whatever reason you could just reach over and BOOM no more phone!
Vox being the nosey control freak he was, used his devices to lurk around the hotel, and for plot related reasons managed to sneak into the hotel undetected with a remote control car with a camera the size of a hot wheels, at first he didn't see much, The princess and her girlfriend having a little date, The cat bartender and Angel Dust chatting while drinking, Niffty traumatizing baby bugs, blah blah boring stuff to him,
However he perked up as he spotted the radio demon, in the kitchen for whatever reason, cooking away, coat put to the side, sleeves rolled up, tail exposed, chopping up celery, bell peppers, garlic and onions while humming a tune,
Vox watched in stalkerish excitement as Alastor chopped the vegetables to prep for the meal he was making, it wasn't anything to be excited about but he was anyway,
Vox's expression changed from excitement to displeasure as someone walked into the kitchen, Joyfully calling out for Alastor while holding up a bag of what looked to be groceries,
Alastor turned, tail moving swiftly back and forth at the sight of his beloved spouse you moved forwards, just barely brushing against Vox's little spy car causing it to burst into flames.
Simultaneously causing Vox to break out in a sting of curses while you and Alastor looked at each other in confusion, before your face twisted into one of frustration, assuming you had bumped into some type of kitchen gizmo
"Can I NOT touch kitchen appliances anymore?!"
"Settle down dearest, and put down the produce please."
Vox came back at later date with another hot wheel camera, managing to sneak into the hotel when Angel dust opened the hotel doors to leave, this time Vox was determined to avoid whatever had caused the first device to explode,
There wasn't anything worth wild for him, The princess was scrambling with papers, the king of hell surrounded himself with ducks for some apparent reason?? Alastor was nowhere to be seen, but the person he was with in the kitchen was, sat at the bar listening to Niffty explain fanfiction while the bartender nursed a drink muttering something about being too sober for that.
Vox squinted as he zoomed closer to you, he stared for a few minutes before recognizing you as his sister, you looked different then when you were alive but it was without a doubt you.
Why the fuck were you down here?! And why were you in the hotel?! Did you know he was here?! Probably not considering he had a TV for a head now and went by Vox instead of whatever normal human name he had before.
Vox observed for the next couple of days, catching on that you and most modern technology did NOT mix, you had taken down twenty-five of his hot wheel cameras just by nicking them, you also had weird beef with Microwaves, sometimes they worked for you, and others times they fizzled down and refuses to work for you,
It annoyed you to no end especially when you were trying to eat a microwaved meal behind Alastor's back.
He wondered what would happen if you touched his head at all, would he explode? He didn't want to find out.
You hadn't changed much from when the two of you were alive, maybe more outgoing and confident but you were still the sister he grew up with, he debated on whether he should reach out, what would he say?
'hey sister, it's been a couple of decades I've been watching you? Join the Vees!'
that's not a normal thing to say, Not to mention Alastor more then likely wouldn't let him get near you
He found that you and Alastor were close, too close for his liking, cooking together, the two of you would dance together, Alastor would bite you when the two of you were allegedly alone, and the two of you even shared a room!
Was Vox in denial about the obvious? Yes, yes he was.
On one side there was that sibling protectiveness on the other he was jealous because why didn't Alastor treat him like he did you when they were on good terms?! Why didn't he? Was this why he turned him down on joining the Vee's?
Was it because of you? How long have the two of you known each other? Why didn't Alastor mention you to him? Did Alastor not trust him during their friendship? Of course he didn't, he was a heartless cannibalistic deer with gross deer hooves,
Clearly you were being held hostage or something, maybe you sold your soul to Alastor?
Alastor was clearly using you for his own entertainment like he had with Vox during their friendship, after All Alastor could never love another person, he was incapable of it.
But he wasn't incapable of it, you weren't an exception to Alastor's Alastory-ness, and he wasn't an exception to your you-ness
Neither you or Alastor were big on the whole romance thing,
You, in life didn't care much for it preferring to focus your time and energy on blackmailing folks and saving enough money to do whatever your heart desired and Alastor was similar, only instead of blackmail and money it was his radioshow and murder.
And that didn't change after death, even after you met Alastor.
You honestly couldn't pinpoint when you and Alastor fell for each other, it came slow like a horror movie where a serial killer was coming up behind the victim, no one noticing the killer until it was too late,
It got you first, at first you thought he just got bumped up from a good friend to a close friend, then a best friend and that's why you were so fond of him,
Until you started wishing to do unholy things,
Like holding hands, or petting his ears!
The minute you figured out what the budding feelings that had begun to weave themselves inside you,
you resulted to shoving them down, hopefully hiding them away until they disappeared completely, or until you gaslit yourself enough that they never existed in the first place, that it was just heartburn or something,
but that didn't happen, they just got stronger up until the point where it hurt, until you had to physically distance yourself from Alastor in hopes they subsided.
Alastor on the other hand, had it slightly worse,
For him it didn't hit him in small gaps like it did for you, it hit him all at once,
he legitimately thought he had somehow gotten deathly ill, perhaps he had gotten cursed? Maybe he wasn't as fond of you as he thought and instead hated your guts for whatever reason?
But if that was the case why did he yearn for your presence? Especially after you for some reason distanced yourself from him?
Why did he desire to chat with you? Why did he wish to cook you a meal and have a lovely dinner with just the two of you??
He eventually went to Rosie, his most trusted friend with this problem
his smile was strained when Rosie laughed at his troubles and told him he was, shockingly more then likely in love.
He acted like he was just told he had an incurable disease, like rabies.
Eventually he got to the point where he decided he should just take you out, in a murder way he couldn't afford a weak spot that he couldn't control,
However he couldn't go through with it when you showed up unannounced to his home, a frown present on your lovely face, you acted like a guilty child who had just stolen a batch of freshly baked cookies, you carried two folders and a board, and you asked him to hear you out as he let you inside,
You began to set up what one can only describe as one of those conspiracy theory boards, only instead of a conspiracy it was explaining how you managed to fall for Alastor, that he didn't necessarily have to return those feelings, and why he should let you live after knowing this information.
Thankfully before you could begin setting anything other then the board up and a few skeins of different colored yarn out, Alastor grabbed you by your shoulders and reluctantly told you that he adored you for some forshaken reason.
And that was that, nothing was ever officially labeled until a ring was put onto your finger many many years later, but it was comfortable, you stayed true to each other, you never went further then a light kiss or a cuddle, the two of you would be deemed odd for a couple, sometimes invalidated by folks who didn't know how to mind their own business, but they were usually dealt with quickly.
You adored Alastor, and He adored you in return.
And that was evident as he twirled you around his radio tower, Vox's hotwheel mini camera watching from the corner.
Soft jazz played as you were pulled back into Alastor's arms, a laugh escaping your throat as you smiled at him, taking a quick moment to reach your hand out and hold Alastor's face, planting a soft smooch on him before pulling away.
At that point Vox was disturbed and a peng of jealousy ran through him, one, because no one wants to see their sister doing that to their ARCH NEMESIS, and second of all, Out of everyone in hell, why did he have to choose you?
Yes you were nice, he guessed, but he's seen you be a feral little menace when the two of you were young, Alastor could do better [No he couldn't]
What did you have that Vox DIDN'T? Sure you didn't have a giant tv for a head but you also weren't an overlord like he was, you didn't have the connections he did, you didn't have a whole company that dominated the tech industry, you didn't HAVE what he did.
But you did have what he desperately wanted
You have Alastor's heart,
You get the adoring looks, you get the whispers of pure affection, you get to dance with him, you get Alastor.
No matter what Vox did, Alastor would never look at him the way he did you, he would never give him the look of pure affection, he would never ask him to dance, he would never give him his heart.
And that tore Vox apart.
So If he couldn't have Alastor, Neither could you.
To him, You either needed to get redeemed quickly and go up above or you were going to be joining the Vee's, whether you liked it or not.
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Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in! I know I said Rosie headcanons where supposed to be up next but I ran into some technical difficulties [my writing app crashed and a big chunk of it got deleted so I am not happy about that] anywho, Vox is a funky TV dude and I like the implications that he's lovesick about Alastor,
I need to finish my Vox fic because he's toxic there.
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Text
Kinkmas 🎄 № 2: Voyeurism
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summary: harry takes you to amsterdam. 
word count: 4.2k
reading time: 18 min.
content warnings: 18+, sex toys, public sex, sex work(ers), teasing, oral (f reciving), manhandling (if you squint), d/s undertones (harry is just a little bossy is all), pet names (baby, lovie, good girl, pretty girl) implied bi/pan!reader, fxf scene, f solo scene, fxm scenes are also described as well. very obvious ignorance to sex work/sex clubs. 
a/n: now i wanna go to Amsterdam. brb booking my flight! 
________________
Harry prided himself on his ability to plan a trip for the two of you. From beginning to end, you never had a care in the world on these trips other than what dress you would wear to dinner. Even then, Harry often made his preference very clear by digging into your bag while you showered and laying out his pick for the night (accessories included, of course). You didn't mind being his little doll; you liked it when he picked out something for you. It made you feel special; you'd yet to figure out why, but you didn't question it too much. Not when every part of your trip was planned, from the moment you woke up to breakfast in bed to some activity fit for each day to dinner reservations each night. Harry had it all covered. 
You found yourselves on this trip in Amsterdam. 'Just because,' he said. And that was a good enough reason for you to get another stamp on your passport. You've done all the tourist spots thus far. All but one. Until tonight. 
Tonight, you were headed to a show. A show in the redlight district. 
So, what you cheated this time. You saw the confirmation email on Harry's phone from the theater earlier, did a quick Google search, and now your stomach is in knots. In a good way, nervous anticipation more than anything. But still, you had to remain calm. Tonight was a surprise, so you needed to be surprised. 
Harry was sure you were going to be. Regardless of how horrible your acting had been, trying to pretend like you didn't know where you were headed, he knew you too well. He knew you saw the confirmation and damn near planned it for you to see. Harry knew your curiosity would eat at you, and you'd inevitably do your own research. But he also knew that you'd only go searching so far. He hopes he's staying within your boundaries with this one. That this all wasn't too much. But by the way, you're fumbling at the vanity, trying to do the finishing touches to your make-up and hair, telling him you are more than ready for tonight. 
You fumble through your make-up bag in search of a specific brush when Harry comes up behind you, pressing a kiss to your temple. 
"Almost done, baby. I know we are on a timer." you rush out, eyes meeting him in the mirror briefly, not noticing that only one hand is on your waist. The other is behind his back, holding something. 
"Don't rush; we're more than okay on time." he smiles, pressing a hiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that wakes you up. "Can I ask you to hold onto something for me?" 
You don't look up from what you're doing in front of the mirror; you don't even see what he's holding up. "You have a million pockets, bab-" your eyes widen when they meet his in the mirror after locking eyes with what's in his hand. "You brought that on the plane!" you whisper, through a smile, turning towards him, heat rising to your cheeks at the thought. In his hand was what was slowly becoming your favorite toy that you and Harry had added to your 'playtime.' It was your remote control butterfly-esque toy. It was meant to fill you up just enough while the buzzing base hit right up against your clit just right. You've discussed wearing it in public before but never thought he would commit to the idea. You can't believe he'd brought it. Happy, excited, even, but nervous. 
"I did. Specifically for tonight. Thought it would be appropriate for where we're going?" 
"Where could we possibly be going where that's appropriate?" you smirk, playfully batting at his chest. 
"You'll see," he smirked, taking a moment to read your face. "Look, I know we've only ever used this guy in the bedroom, but I thought it would be fun tonight. If you are uncomfortable, we can scratch -" 
"No!" you rush out, reaching for it in his hand. "I just mean - what were you thinking?"
"Well, I don't want to give away the whole surprise, but it starts with this," He emphasizes by bringing your attention to the toy, "Going inside of my pretty girl." he smirks, looking between your legs, "after I have a taste of course," he adds. 
"Oh, well, of course," you giggle, rolling your eyes playfully. 
"Right. So once I've had my fill of my peach, then this will go nice and snug inside your pussy," Harry says with a smile before he brings his hand up from your hip to your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, his eyes blown out in lust. "And you're going to hold it in there for me. All night until we get back here. Hopefully, if you are up for it, I'll be spending the rest of our last night between your legs. Letting you see Amsterdam from your favorite angle, baby." He rasps, dipping his down and crashing his lips to yours. 
On your back. 
You giggle into the kiss. It was a silly thing you'd said when you were in Paris. You had the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. You are unsure how he did it; regardless, it was an ideal view. And yet you spent most of the trip, seeing it upside down, while on your back, head dangling off the side of the bed as Harry had worked, orgasm after orgasm from you. You'd then joked that you'd want to see every city with him on your back. Seeing the Eiffel Tower upside down was your favorite way to see it. So it's kind of become a tradition of sorts to have mind-blowing sex in each city you visit together, at least once.  
Harry has taken it to be a challenge to get you that high off him, to say something just as goofy in every city, and if that meant you were on your back, well….it was tradition. He leans in, deepening the kiss, "How's that sound?" He pulls away and chuckles at your eyes, still fluttering open. 
"Good. yeah." 
"Yeah? This is okay?" he asks, seriously, his tone sweet as pie. 
"Yeah. It…could be fun. Just try not to embarrass me too with it too bad," you joke with a sigh, and Harry shakes his head insistently. 
"Never. I'd never embarrass you with this. This is for us, for you. S' not to make a spectacle of you. I'd never." 
"I know," You giggle into a kiss, trying to shake some of your nerves. 
"I just want you to know. Now," He smirks devilishly down at you, lust clouding over his eyes, "Can I?" 
You cross your arms across your chest, "I don't know, can you?" you mock, finally getting to pull his favorite word 'gotcha' on him. And he groans, gripping your jaw again, playfully growling at you. 
"You brat." he sighs at you. He leans down, kissing you deep, before pulling away just enough. "May I?" he asks, eyes never leaving yours. "Please." 
"You may." you breathe out.
You barely have time to register his movements. He's on his knees before you, hiking your dress up your thighs in seconds. He looks up at you with a devilish grin as he shimmies your panties down your thighs. You kick them to the side, and Harry grabs hold of one of your thighs, hooking it over his shoulder, "Lean back, baby. Hold onto the sink." He smirks before planting sloppy kisses up each of your thighs. Slow and intimate.  
Harry wasn't a fan of quickies. Sure, you'd had a few here and there, but they were never Harry's style. He never rushed, not with you. And especially not when he was given the privilege of going down on you. No, he was going to savor every moment he got to spend between your thighs. Knowing that he was the only one to see you from this angle. 
When his lips finally did land where you'd been wanting them, it was just a light peck to your folds. Followed by a long bold lick from your entrance to your clit. 
"Harry, we don't have time." You whine, wanting him to devour you like you both know he wanted to. 
"Shhh, don't you worry about that," he coos, placing another kiss on your thigh, "just relax." He returned his lips to your folds and did what Harry does best. Take you to heaven. He went slow at first, alternating between licking up and down your folds and sucking on your clit. His hands roamed and groped, pulling you down further onto his tongue. He licked and sucked, twirled his tongue. God, was he amazing with his mouth. And never was he stingy in blessing you with his oral talents. He was so lost in you, drunk on the taste of you on his tongue, Harry nearly forgot about his original plan. It wasn't until he felt your fingers twist into his hair, tugging ever so slightly with a whine, that he was brought back down to earth. 
"Can I ask you for one more thing, baby?" He asks against your pussy. You look down at him, eyes blown out in lust, nodding vigorously. You were so close. 
"Mmhmm, anything." You keen, tugging at his hair some more. 
"I need you to come for me. Can you do that?" He asks, looking up at you, slowly inserting his middle finger inside. 
Your mouth falls open, eyes still locked on Harry on his knees for you. "Mmmhmm." You nod. 
"Good girl," He coos, and your stomach flips at the praise, "You come for me, and then I'll give you the toy, and you keep it for the rest of the night, okay?" Again, all you had the brain power to do was nod at him, tugging his hair, pulling him closer. 
You could feel the spring in the pit of your stomach; you were right there. "Harry-"you keen, 
"That's it, baby, come on." He encourages, curling his fingers up, dragging them in and out of you at a pace that has you spinning. "Come on my fingers, baby." 
It's all you need. Harry's permission before you come undone on one of his hands while the other arms hold you up. He works you through your first orgasm of the night, pulling it from you with every drag of his fingers. You barely have time to fully come down before you feel him removing his fingers and inserting the toy. It's slightly thicker than Harry's fingers, so the fit is somewhat snug, but the feeling is phenomenal. 
Harry straightens up once the toy is in place and you've caught your breath. He shimmies your panties back up your legs and straightens your dress out for you. You wrap your areas around his shoulders, bringing him close to you, and he places a sweet peck on your forehead and nose before kissing your lips, just enough for you to taste yourself. "You okay?" He smiles. 
"Yeah. Thank you." You breathe out, your head still a little fuzzy from your orgasm, your legs still a little weak. 
"You don't have to thank me every time I make you come, baby." He chuckles. 
"I know. But still." You shrug, leaning your forehead against his for just a moment. You two stood momentarily while you came down, holding each other against the sink. 
"Can you finish getting ready for me?" He asks, bringing you back to the present. 
"Yeah - just a few minutes." you smile. He looked down at you with a proud grin on his face.
"I'll be out there," he looks down at his watch and chuckles. "Okay, maybe now we are on a bit of a time crunch, but still - baby, don't rush." He places a quick kiss on your temple. "I will be by the door when you're ready." 
'I'll be by the door' was Harry Speak for 'I love you, but you have ten minutes.' You shake your head and opt for a quick brown contour on your eyes to give you some life rather than your planned smoky eye. You topped off the look with some mascara and gloss. It's a nice no-make-up look. 
Perfect for a sex show - Buzzzz. You jolted forward. 'He's a mind reader, isn't he?' You think. How else could he have perfectly cued the vibrating egg to go off at the mere thought of tonight's plans?  
"Lovie - come on," Harry calls from the front of the hotel with a smirk ever so present in his voice. 
Bastard. You curse him in your head, trying to keep your moans at bay. Just when you think you feel like you feel the beginnings of that tingly feeling that starts at the base of your spine once more, it stops. And Harry comes around the corner, no indication on his face that he's the reason you've been hunched over in here rather than out there with him. "You ready?" 
Shit. You hated this game. You were terrible at it. But it was Harry's favorite. 
The game? Harry worked you up, with you doing the same, while you both played coy and ignored the other's attempts until someone broke. That someone was nearly always you. 
"Yes." You squeak out, straightening your dress out. "Fuck." you say out loud. How would you keep this thing in you with a dress if he plans on doing that all night? 
"Everything okay?" he asks condescendingly. 
"Fine." you breathe out. You were not going to let Harry win at this that easy. "I'm fine, let's go. I'm ready." He smiles at you, proud of your attempt to keep the game going. Tonight was going to be so fun for you both. 
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Harry kept you huddled into his side as you moved through the brisk December streets of Amsterdam. Your coat was more style than function, and Harry, ever the gentleman, sacrificed his own for you to stay warm. 
"We're just about - Oh. Here it is." he slows down, pulling you behind him to a door along a strip of stores that looked abandoned. He feels the weight of you stopped behind him. "I promise this is the place." Still, you don't budge, "I have it on good authority that this is the place," he smirks. 
"Who's authority, Harry?" You whisper for some reason, but this feels like the part of town where you whisper. Without answering, he turns his back to you, looking down at his phone again before knocking on the door several times and pocketing it. And it opens. Harry gives a vague riddle, and the next thing you know, you are being pulled behind a doorway in the Red Light District of Amsterdam. 
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It's a theater. A rather large one, with three stages, or one big stage with two diving walls. Each location was wide enough to have stairs leading from the vast audience to each stage. In the back was a bar, lit dimly with a few scattered patrons. But in the center of the room, the audience seating was…different. 
For one, the place was packed with patrons. For seating, there were booths and small tables, but closer to the stage were cabana-type seating, with some sort of private walls made of flowy dark satin curtains. The whole space was draped in dark purple, black, and gold. The lights were low, completely dim, if not for the stage light and the small lamps scattered about on some tables. The music was quiet yet thumping. You could feel the bass in your chest, and the vibrations did nothing to help the ache between your thighs. 
But, the stages. 
That's where the center of all attention in the large room was and where your eyes were glued the entire time Harry pulled you through the theater to your reserved booth. 
"Sit, baby." Harry smiles, tugging your hand for you to follow him into the rounded booth. You look down at him, then behind you, realizing you are blocking people's view. "You like it?" Harry asks, draping an arm around your shoulder as you shrug off his jacket, draping it across your lap. Covering what your dress doesn't. 
My clever girl, Harry thinks. 
"Is this -" 
"This is the show," he whispers down into your ear. "See, each one is a different stage of arousal. See?" he explains, looking out onto the stages. You get a perfect view of all three stages from where you two are seated. You notice a few smaller platforms scattered throughout the room and at either side of the stage, to the right and left. On each platform stood a woman, fully exposed, moving to the music and flowing with the lights that danced across her skin. It was art. 
On the stage closest to you and Harry was a couple, a man and a woman. He was much larger than her, similar to you and Harry's size difference. He towered over her as he caressed her cheek. Their movements were slow and sensual but deliberate as they stood center stage, with nothing but a chair on stage beside them. You were so focused on them and the music and the lights you didn't notice Harry reaching into his pocket, retrieving the remote for the toy. Only when it was too late did you realize. As you feel the toy's vibrations, you reach over, gripping Harry's knee underneath the tiny cocktail table. A small squeak escaped your lips. 
"Shhh…baby, be good. Be quiet for me, okay?" 
"Yeah." you quip out, digging your nails into his thigh, causing him to hiss. 
"Use me how you need, baby," he whispers tightly into your ear, and you have to bite your lower lip to keep from moaning out in this theater. Not that anyone would hear the music and the noises coming from the women on the stage; there must have been microphones on stage with how clear their moans rang through the room.  
Another woman was on the stage to the far right of where you were. She was alone, besides the assortment of toys next to her, but by the looks and sounds of it, she didn't need any of it. No, she was doing just fine the old-fashioned way.  
Then you take in the stage to the left of you. You have to turn your head a little to get a full view of it all, and once you do, the grip on Harry's knee tightens. It was two women in the throws of passion, in a position you've only ever dreamed of. They lay on each of their sides, facing opposite directions, faces buried in each other's thighs. 
"I picked this show for them. Especially. I know you'd love them." He turns the vibrator up, but only a nudge, still a low hum, and nothing to write home about. But with the images and sounds surrounding you, it was enough to drive you mad. His lips linger at your year a second too long, his breath sending those pleasant tingles all over your body. "And Him," he says, drawing your attention back to the stage closest to you. 
The couple is half dressed now, her breasts exposed, and he - well, you know why Harry said what he did. The man was a sight to behold. He couldn't hold a candle to Harry size-wise, but he was impressive and above average. And he didn't even appear to be fully erect. The woman was working on changing that, it seemed. You watched as she took his impressive length into her much smaller hand and pumped him slow, up and down. You looked over at Harry, who couldn't keep his eyes off you. 
"You're missing the show," you whisper as he licked his bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth. You mirrored his action. 
"No, I'm not." He smirked, "Eyes, forward." he demanded softly. He turns up the vibe once again as you watch the woman drop to her knees in front of the man, who's opted to sit in the provided chair. From the way he is sitting in the chair to the side, you have a perfect view of the woman wrapping her lips around him with a pornographic moan. You couldn't help but suck in a breath. Suddenly, you were longing for the weight of Harry to be on your tongue. To feel him fill your mouth, your throat, to hear him groan as you reached up to play with his balls. You craved it. 
 For a split second, you looked around the crowded room. You are taking in the sights and sounds. There were a couple of groups, some people kissing and some whispering to one another, but every eye was locked on that stage. All except Harry, that is. You turn your attention back on the two girls, and they're both cuddled up to each other on a makeshift bed of sheets and pillows on stage, basking in an assumed post-orgasm glow. Harry catches the pout on your lips immediately. 
"I missed it." 
"You better pay attention then," He chuckles, "with all your sense. Not just sight. Listen, smell…feel." 
Feel. 
Oh, this damn egg! The hum of the vibrator is ever-present between your thighs now. Though it's not enough vibration to relieve the ache that's developed, it is starting to get you to that place that makes you warm and fuzzy rather quickly. And you want more, need more. So you turn to face him, landing a sweet peck on his lips. Then, leaning your forehead to his for a moment and leaning into his ear, whispering, "Harry, can I get more, please." You beg, sweetly. He pulls you away from him by the chin, kissing your nose. 
"No. Watch the show." He says and smiles when you huff at him, wiggling in the booth for some much-needed relief, your attention back to center stage. He pinches your arm lightly, "Don't do that, either. You know the rules. Take what I give you." he recites. You nod in understanding and try to focus on the show center stage. 
The woman has the man's cock fully down her throat now, and she sucked him with such enthusiasm, and his head was thrown back in such ecstasy it nearly gave you cock envy. When she finally came up for air with an animated throw of her head, she stood up from her spot between his legs before sitting on his lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulder. She leans in, kissing him slowly as his hands roamed all over her body. Groping, and kneading…spanking. That's when you feel his lips on your neck. And you are going to lose your mind. Was this hot? Absolutely. But you needed Harry like you've never before, and being unable to do anything about it was killing you. 
"Harry, I don't know how much longer I can-"You were close. Embarrassingly close. 
"Okay." He hums, and the next thing you know, the vibrations between your legs stopped. You let out a deep sigh, something mixed with frustration and relief. "There, now….you can focus. Watch them." Harry instructs. 
So you do. You watch. You watch as she slowly takes his length into her hand, pumping him a few moments before sinking down onto him. You hear her moans as she gets fully seated on him, setting a pace. Harry couldn't help but watch and hear your breath hitch as hers did. Knowing what you were thinking, knowing that you were thinking about him. How he feels inside you, stretching you out, making you feel full. He knew because he couldn't help but think about the same. 
As the woman on stage picked up her pace, bouncing on the man's cock up and down, swiveling her hips, you felt it again. The buzzing of the toy between your thighs. 
"Harry," you whisper, gripping onto his thigh again. 
"Shhh, you're okay," he assures but places a quick peck on your shoulder, momentarily drawing your attention to him. "Do you want it off?" He asks, checking in. 
"No!" you rush out, and he smiles at Cheshire's grin before turning it up two more notches. Your grip on his thigh tightens as you bite your lip, turning back to the stage. 
She is close now, you can tell. Her pace is quicker more frantic, and the noises. God, the noises she was making were heavenly, mixed with his groans as you watched him lunge forward, attaching his lips to her chest. 
Harry takes his other hand that wasn't wrapped around you, tangling his fingers with yours, giving them a comforting squeeze. 
"Harry, please." 
"No, baby." He says sternly. He knew what you were asking for, and as much as he hated saying no to you, he wouldn't let you come in public. Even if you were hidden by the walls of the tall booth, even if no one was watching, he would never allow it. When it came to you, Harry was selfish, and when it came to your pleasure and who got to see you in your most intimate moments, he was downright protective. 
Just as the woman on stage reached her peach, you were about to tell Harry that you couldn't hold it. That you couldn't take anymore without coming, the vibrator stops. You lean over, resting your head on Harry's shoulder. 
"I was so close." you pout.
"I know. But I'll take care of you when we get back. I promise."
🎄🎄🎄🎄
kinkmas 2023 masterlist 
🎄🎄🎄🎄
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faeryarchives · 3 months
Text
✧˚ · . happy birthday (malleus draconia x reader)
summary: from what malleus understood, birthdays are supposed to be celebrated merrily with family and friends. that is why the fae was so happy to receive your invitation for your special day, but why did he find you alone and crying under the night sky?
warnings: mild angst + slight ooc (its been a loooong time since i wrote for twst 😭)
note: i hope u guys will enjoy and if you ever experienced something like this i am so sorry 🫂 + i am late for malleus birthday so i wrote for twst en 2nd anniv instead hihi
recent fics: in sickness and in health & so what are we? & when your hopeless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace x reader)
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for faes, time is a fleeting moment. having to watch others age and wither away, it was no surprise that malleus finds them so fragile and consistently succumb to age. and yet, malleus still discovers them to be fascinating - especially after he met you.
"are you a visitor? that's surprising. i am (name), the housewarden of the ramshackle dorm. sorry if you want to visit. our place is a little rundown right now, but how can i help you?" 
the peculiar house warden of the ramshackle dorm who never seems to be afraid while being in his presence and even asks him to be his friend. having someone other than his found family in diasomnia, he never thought he would get to learn new things after living for so long.
"oh yeah, i remember now. mal, can you come the day after tomorrow?"
"hmm? i can come here every day if you want, treasure. but why the specific date?" he watched as you became silent momentarily as if hesitating to say something before giving him your usual smile, sending butterflies raging again in his stomach. 
"nothing, i just want to celebrate my birthday with you."
imagine how he was on cloud nine after you invited him on your special day! from what malleus understood, birthdays are supposed to be celebrated merrily with family and friends. and he is very determined to make his gift the best you can get. and a determined malleus draconia won't stop finding a way to make you the happiest one on that day.
"do you think they would like this?" 
"having to receive a gift from you, my liege, is already a blessing!" sebek sobbed with tears comically running down his face, mumbling how he envied you for having the chance to receive a gift from the malleus draconia.
"oh malleus, i am sure little bat would love it." lilia chuckled, seeing the fae panicking over his present, even after spending two whole days and nights to find the perfect one to give you. 
silver, who was watching it all unfold, had a somber expression before sighing deeply. "father is right. i noticed how (name) looked like they were in low spirits earlier, i'm sure it will cheer them up." that seemed to stop malleus in his tracks; you were sad on your special day?
"silver, can you explain more about that?"
"it seems like they were having a bad day; when i greeted them a happy birthday, they looked happy for a moment before walking away looking glum."
that seemed to dampen the mood in the room, not knowing what to say. one look at his watch, lilia couldn't help but gasp in horror. 
"if you spend more time here, you will miss the opportunity to make little bat happy on their special day."
"that would be horrible. i must leave immediately!" in an instant, the dragon fae disappeared, leaving traces of green fireflies in his wake. seeing how rushed he went out, lilia couldn't help but let out a loving sigh.
"ah, young love!"
the fae appeared in his usual spot at the massive tree by your dorm, expecting to hear cheers and singing of happy birthday for you because, according to lilia, birthday celebrations are usually loud. but to his surprise, he was met with silence and a seemingly empty building.
"...oh? has the party not started yet? or is it finished?" 
malleus looks around to find any signs of you or your friends - a pout forming on his lips, feeling sad that he might have missed your birthday celebration. that is, until he passed by the field you two always walked by during your night trips. that is when he finally found you, facing the flower field while curling yourself into a ball. from where he was standing, he could see your figure shake, followed by the sound of your voice
'(name)...?'
"i just want to feel special just one time..." he watches as you try wiping the tears rolling continuously down your face but to no avail, echoes of your cries being carried away by the wind. malleus knew he should do something but couldn't bring himself to move from his spot.
because it is the first time he has ever seen you cry. 
"... i already knew i wasn't worth anyone's time," you mumbled and sighed deeply. "i am an adult now. i shouldn't feel this way. but why..." you didn't even get the chance to finish as your voice cracked at the end, lips trembling in an attempt to stop the sobs from coming out, but it was as if your body had another plan and let it all out. 
"why am i so easy to forget? haven't i done enough to be loved?" looking at the flower field ahead of you, despite the tears blurring your vision, you couldn't help but laugh. "am i that so isolated that i am talking to flowers now?"
the wind picked up for a moment before someone put their blazer around you, followed by a voice you knew all too well. "they are a wonderful companion too."
"m-mal! how long have you been standing there?" in a panic, you start to wipe your face with your sleeve and avoid eye contact with the fae, covering your face with your hands as you nervously laugh. before you could speak, cold yet gentle hands found their way to your hands. this caused you to turn your head to look straight at malleus, who was looking at you with his face filled with worry, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of his thoughts.
"give me names." you blink at the sudden statement, confused.
"what?"
"give me the names of those who made you sad today. how dare they make you cry?!" the harsh wind stirred up the fallen leaves, clouds covering the starry night as malleus frowned, his hands getting tighter and tighter as the moments passed by. one closer look at your features and he could tell you've been crying for a while now, making him angrier. 
you were silent for a moment, shadows covering your eyes after, before wrapping your arms around him, burying your head into his chest. malleus was confused. the world stopped moving around him - his heightened hearing focused on your breathing and the sound of... laughter?
"... (name)?" hesitantly, he raised his arms before slowly wrapping them around you, hearing a hum of approval. the two of you stayed in each other's arms for a minute before you broke the hug and malleus could see you looking at him.
"thank you for coming. sorry if you had to see me that way." you turn to look over your dorm and shake your head disappointedly. "i thought you would also forget my birthday. i didn't expect you to come." playing with your hands nervously and taking a deep breath, you glanced him in the eye and gave him a strained smile.
"no one remembered my birthday until sebek and silver greeted me. i thought grim, and the others were acting like they didn't know; maybe they were going to surprise me, that's all!" malleus stayed silent, watching as you tried holding back your tears while telling your story. 
"i would never expect their genuine shock after hearing it." remembering the look on your friends' faces was enough for you to feel the raw emotions over again. "it might sound petty, but i just expected better, you know?" you sniffled. 
"whenever someone in the group celebrates their birthday, they remember every detail and all; the effort is there and everything. but when it comes to me, all effort disappears." you turn to malleus, and everything breaks down.
"all i ask is to feel special just this once. for people to see me as me - not the magicless human or the one who came from another world. is it hard for anyone to see me as their friend?" feeling the strength in your legs disappearing, you would almost fall to the ground if not for malleus catching you at the last minute.
the dragon fae held your hand in his, grasping it as your hand was made of glass. "didn't you invite them like you've done with me?" even though he was angry at your friends, malleus held back the voices in his head as he remembered about you talking about them so proudly.
"i did. but there were so many activities and exams for us first years this week."
"but being busy shouldn't be an excuse." he stopped before going on after finding you listening to him. "human friendship still confuses me, but the fact that they are not exerting the same effort they have to others - aren't you being... what do they call? taken for granted?" judging from the look on your face, he knew he had hit a sore spot.
"..."
"but that doesn't mean you should see yourself as someone lacking. you are worth so much love, my treasure." he runs his hand over your cheek before grabbing his gift and handing it to you. "i know how you treasure them, and how much they adore you too. maybe they are not still used to it but never think of yourself as the problem." you opened the box and stood unblinking, trying to process what you just received before staring back at malleus, demanding an explanation.
"i don't think i deserve this." inside the box was a beautiful emerald necklace. the enchanting green emerald reminds you the same way you would get lost in Malleus' eyes.
"nonsense. this is my gift to you, something that holds my magic to protect you whenever i am not around. without you, i don't think i would ever learn the joys of being friends with you as well as falling in love." he then wrapped the necklace around your neck, feeling satisfied with how it looked on you. he knelt down and took your hand in his, giving a kiss on the back of yours before staring back at you.
"happy birthday, my treasure. sorry i am late with my greetings. i was looking for the perfect gift-" without wasting another moment, you crouched down. you shared another hug with the fae, burying your head into his shoulder. he could still feel your body shaking not from sadness but joy. his hands wrapped around your back and gave you small rubs, attempting to soothe you.
"you silly dragon, just your presence is enough for me."
"is that so?" he hummed, letting your body relax into his.
"...thank you mal."
"anything for you, dear."
bonus!
heartslabyul, savannaclaw, octavinelle, scarabia, pomefior and ignihyde gang hiding in the bush to surprise you but ended up hearing everything you just said:...
silver looking at the big group, sighing: you guys messed up big time
lilia: hush they are about to kis-
sebek: WAKA - SAMAAAAAAAA
grim: NOOOOO MY HENCHHUMAN I AM SO SORRYYYYYY IT WAS ACE AND DEUCE'S IDEA!
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myouicieloz · 6 months
Text
💭 richgirl!aeri x studentathlete!reader
not proofread j some silly thoughts💕
pt.2
- you were thrilled to know you were going to share a dorm with another international student, specially since you were having a hard time adjusting.
- giselle was a sweetheart from day one, introducing you to everyone and making sure you always felt included.
- she was very classy and noticeably wealthy—you could tell, by her clothes and by the way she carried herself, that she came form money. besides, whenever you’d go out to fancy museums or coffee shops, something would always make your eyes grow big: always amused to your surroundings—yet she’d never bat an eye at it.
- you were given a full ride scholarship, and the only reason you were attending this specific university was due to the soccer coach spotting you at an international club tournament you played in new york and scouting you. you were hesitant, at first, but you weren’t going to get an offer to a university that was that prestigious at home anyway, so you decided to go.
- your parents were still paying for your stay, with much effort, so you tried to spend as little as possible.
- which meant subtly ducking from your roommate’s daily coffees and girl dates.
- giselle actually thought you didn’t like her until she realized you spent most of the time in the dorms because you were quite literally broke.
- it’s an issue she solves quickly enough.
- at first she just bluntly offers to pay for your stuff, but stops herself as you keep denying her efforts, with a flustered face. it’s only when she changes techniques that she starts succeeding in her efforts.
- she’s subtle, then: giselle gifts you clothes she claims that are “thrifted”, makes sure there’s always your favorite drink placed on your desk whenever you return from your practices, buys you the shoes she caught you lurking on the internet for far too long, claiming it’s your birthday present—even though your birthday isn’t until the upcoming months...
- accepting a purse she claimed she’d never used and “was in her closet for ages”. you later get told by a classmate said purse was just out of stock in seoul, even though it had just been announced
- you don’t suspect a thing, keeping her little gifts and dismissing them as just little treats she gives you as a friend. it’s giselle, after all. she was born into luxury, and gift giving is her primary love language.
- besides, you grew tired of rejecting her efforts to spoil you, and you hate to see her so offended when you tell her you just can’t keep that many presents. you hate the faces she does when she doesn’t get what she wants. and it frustrates you to not be able to gift her just the same. you wish you could spoil her rotten, too.
- as you stop telling her ‘no’, giselle becomes more and more confident.
- “it’s what roomies do, Y/n, don’t worry.” she assures you every time you try to give her the gifts back. in reality, giselle loves to see you dolled up in the stuff she chose. being the star player, you quickly gained popularity, so what better way to tell those useless whores who were always ogling you that you belonged to her already? what better way than having her brand all over you?
- she even gave you a friendship ring, as she called it, once you two went to the university’s fall ball, to symbolize how deeply you’ve connected since you started attending uni.
- you were basically either with your teammates or aeri and her friends. she was pretty, outgoing and naturally insanely popular. she dragged you with her everywhere, having you follow her around like a puppy. you didn’t mind, though: her friends were funny enough, and you liked getting to hear the drama and the gossips without being a part of it. they were also always polite to you, too, so you enjoyed hanging out with her and her group. they weren’t your friends, though. you reminded yourself that every now and then. just colleagues.
-
- she loved how shy you got when she touched you, too. it took her much, much patience, but after nearly a whole year, you were finally comfortable enough to be relaxed at her touches.
- an occasional hand on your waist, a kiss on the cheek; hugs that went for perhaps too long, cuddling sessions in the dorm as you watched her turn her buzzing phone off (she had a party to attend when you called her for a movie night. “oh, it’s ok unnie!! have fun.” you told her, but giselle was already sitting beside you and grabbing a hold of the blanket for herself.)
- she insisted on cuddling until you fell asleep too, even though your bed didn’t exactly fit both of you. however, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny her anything, already feeling like you owned her so much. she was the one who was always taking care of you, not only with her little gifts. she was always asking about your practices, if you needed any help with your classes, whether people were being nice and polite to you, since you still struggled with your korean when talking to many people at once. you were truly grateful to have her, so, naturally, you’d do anything for her.
- you’d often find yourself waking up with her hands groping your tits or lingering too close to the hem of your panties, but you’d never think much of it, dismissing it as your friend being just unconscious while sleeping.
- she was possessive, too. you could see the cold stare she gave your teammates whenever you had one of them over to study. funny enough, they never looked at you the same way again, nor did they accept your invitations to host movie nights anymore.
- your only friend (besides aeri) was jini. you were both new to the team and had many classes together. like you, she was shy, lost and very reserved, which was part of the reason you instantly clicked. you enjoyed hanging out with her between classes and practices, even more once you got to know her a bit better: jini was actually quite energetic and bubbly, always talking about her favorite mangas or the new songs she was listening to. you liked to hear how passionately she talked about things, sometimes so immersed she wouldn’t even notice you getting left behind in the sea of people, as you walked through your classes.
- naturally, giselle despised your teammate, always making sure to hug you extra hard and send her hard glances whenever you looked away.
- whenever she felt as if you didn’t have 100% of your attention on her, she’d buy you a fancy gift: an ipad of your favorite color, a watch, new earrings... it kept you clingy for days, entertained with your new stuff; just as she liked it.
- the first time you fucked, the two of you had just returned to another one of her fancy dinners with her friends. you were drunk, hot, and messy, struggling to get out of the small black dress that clung tightly to your body— which, of course, giselle had chosen for you to wear. you asked for help to take it off, but as soon as you felt your roommates long fingers trace your bare back, you lost it: you turned around, kissing her fiercely as the dress fell onto the ground, leaving you completely exposed.
- a wave of winds roamed through the window, hitting your body and making you shiver, feeling your nipples harden and your conscience returning. you took a step back, murmuring apologies and being extremely embarrassed, until you felt her hands on your waist again, pushing you onto your mattress as her body hovered on top of yours.
- she whispered it was ok; her pretty pet was horny, that’s all. she’d take care of it. and so she latched her mouth onto your body, making you moan loudly.
- you woke up still dizzy, with your body filled with bruises. you were still ashamed but deeply satisfied, and aeri brushed your hair as she said you could still be friends or something else, if you’d like.
- from then, you’ve been her girlfriend, though things had hardly changed. only now, she encouraged you to be vocal about the things you wanted her to buy for you, and you had to work for them.
- regardless, you love being her pet ;)
-
bonus: you didn’t realize you were kind of her sugar baby (even though she was only months older) until one of your teammates pointed it out, giving you a whole lot of harsh words and making a show of talking about how you were only with aeri because of her money. you ignored your girlfriend for a whole week after that, until she decided she’d given you plenty of space and confronted you with a serious tone. you started crying and she listened attentively as you explained the filthy words your teammate had said to you and all of her twisted suggestions. giselle nodded and pulled you close, kissing you and reassuring she knew none of that was true. yes, you were kind of a sugar baby since giselle spoiled you so much, but it didn’t have to be like that if you didn’t want it to be. you brushed your tears away, saying it wasn’t that; the girl’s words were just so agressive… the thought of people feeling so sure you didn’t love giselle as much as she loved you was overwhelming, which was why you distanced yourself. she understood, murmuring for you to tell her immediately when such things happened instead of refusing to see her, which you nod as she kissed the top of your head.
the girl gets expelled from your team 2 days after your conversation with giselle. however, you don’t connect the dots, only shrugging and not paying much attention to jini’s words as you walk to the cafeteria.
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rensblade · 6 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅.
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⟢ warnings/notes: wriothesley x fem! reader. suggestive, minors & ageless blogs do not interact. briefly proofread.. this is my first post, so i'd really appreciate any type of feedback! enjoy, and happy (very) late halloween to everyone celebrating ✩
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“my.. what big ears you have,” you exhaled with a soft sigh, your hands raking through his two-toned locks as he continued nipping at your your chest. pretty shades of purple love-bites scatter across the canvas laid out to him, and wriothesley places a final kiss onto the last spot, before pulling away to fixate his darkened gaze onto yours.
by now, perhaps you should've been prepared to expect the array of hickeys that would follow; after all, you chose to don a dress with a pretty low neckline, and hence, your tits sat prettily all there for him to just devour.
still, since you asked so nicely, your boyfriend had been more than careful so as to not to rip the fabric of this specific red dress; you wore today in order to match with his costume— you, the red riding hood, as he was supposed to be the big bad wolf tonight.
“all the more to listen to you scream, sweetheart.” wriothesley chuckles against your collarbone as he lets his hold from your waist trail down; cold fingertips trailing ghostly kisses on your skin as his hands slowly make their way under your red dress.
it makes you shudder— how easily he tears apart the lace of your stockings, before he spreads your thighs using one large hand.
the mere action sends your body into a slight arch, as you tighten your claw onto his biceps in anticipation. you struggled to steady yourself on his lap; it didn't help the fact you could feel his length poke at your ass at the very moment. you weren't complaining.
archons, not to mention the mischievous glint of his eye. well. since he was already very much in character, you tug into his fur coat, letting it drop to the floor, agonizingly slow.
pale cerulean eyes remain trained on your face in order to memorize all your reactions into memory. wriothesley wordlessly admires the frustrated pout you give him, upon noticing another layer of clothing clinging onto his muscular chest. the man only laughs, the sound reverberating through both your flushed chests; making you send a small smile his way in defeat.
he was prettiest like this— while you were both mutually worshiping your bodies. although, you admit, he had always remained insistent on doing the most for you, kissing your palms in reassurance whenever he would was done with drawing out countless lewd sounds from you.
arrays of less-than-holy thoughts invade your senses, you couldn't help it. you were desperate to show him how badly you wanted him. how good you could be for him. without much thought, your hands fondle with his upper body as if to urge him on to undress himself.. and you.
“and what big hands you have..”
it's no doubt he catches onto your little game. either ways, wriothesley is more than happy to play right into your hands.
“oh, these?” his mock-interested tone fills the air, the lopsided smile you loved so much making you want to melt into him. “all the more to touch you. like this,” his focus goes back to the hold he had on your thighs, squeezing them softly.
the action makes you bite back a sound, while unsatisfied grunt from him follows, before his grip tightens onto the exposed flesh; his shrewd hands exploring their way down from where you're seated atop him. “and all the more to help undress you.. of course.”
it didn't help how kept whispering all that into your neck, his tone dropping in octave as he too, breathes a bit heavier. your lover's voice was all gruff and delicious from the intense making out you did prior so of course he used it to his advantage. he knew of the effect his voice had on you, sly wolf.
so you only bat your lashes up at him, starry eyes and all, in your little now-bunched-up dress, as you feign innocence in order to ask him the third and final question— your thighs clenching in growing anticipation. his large palm stays slotted in place between them, where they rightfully belong.
you finally ask, in a more dazed manner than you intended to. “my.. and what a big mouth you have, surely not only for all that bragging, i assume?”
wrong move. this time, he doesn't laugh. instead, the man steadies your disheveled form up by the arms, until you feel yourself being dropped onto the soft mattress of his sofa.
it was then, you swear you could've seen wriothesley lick his lips, as he positions himself in between where his hands had been mere seconds ago— as he mumbles under his breath.
"all the more to eat you, my love."
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rensblade, 2023. please do not steal my writings or headers, i put a lot of effort into this. reblogs & comments are appreciated! also, my drafts are pretty nonexistent rn so i'd appreciate asks. i will be accepting requests for genshin, hsr, & jjk as of now.
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ozzgin · 6 months
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Yandere! Edward Scissorhands x Reader
On her quest to make at least one sale for the day, Avon lady Peg cautiously steps into the eerie mansion of a known inventor. She soon learns that it has long been devoid of life, with the exception of Edward, a synthetic human creation left unfinished. She returns to the bright suburbs accompanied by the poor young man, earning the curious stares of the bystanders. Among the colorful houses, however, Edward spots a gloomy dwelling that the neighbors seem to avoid. Who is the mysterious occupant?
Winner of the Halloween Poll! A short gothic romance in the style of Tim Burton, where two outsiders find solace in each other.
[Horror Masterlist]
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The light yellow car slows down as it reaches the driveway and the engine stops. Peg makes her way out and hurries over to the passenger side, keys dangling between her fingers. She helps Edward out once she sees him awkwardly shuffling in the seat, unsure of his next step.
"You'll love it here. I just know it."
The woman hastily closes the door behind the tall, peculiar visitor. She places a gentle hand on his back and guides him down the asphalted path. 
Edward's gaze briefly wanders further into the street. The houses are slithering along neatly, their vivid colors somewhat tiring to his unaccustomed eyes. Yet one of them sticks out. Strangely enough, it reminds him of home. A rusty iron fence surrounds the property, and patches of lush, unkempt vegetation creep through the bars. The walls are dark and crooked and the black tiled roof casts a shadow over the entire abode.  
"Who lives there?" The question escapes his lips almost unconsciously. 
Peg follows his gaze, eager to introduce the area to him. Once she settles on the source of his inquiry, her smile falters for a second.
"Oh, my. That's, well..." she lets out a forced laugh and encourages him to continue walking. "I'm glad you're already so curious, Edward dear. You'll get to know everyone soon, don't worry about it."
One more push and the guest has securely entered the house. As she prepares to twist the knob into a lock, she peeks out for the last time, surveying the surroundings with mild worry. A neighbor is walking their dog, whistling in the distance. As they approach the mysterious building, the animal begins to bark and the owner scurries to the other side of the street. 
"He's so...strange!" one housewife exclaims, sipping on her lemonade.
Joyce is biting the temple tips of her sunglasses as she carefully inspects the dark haired man, currently using his sharp, spear fingers as barbecue skewers. She's batting her long eyelashes, entranced. She does like her men on the enigmatic side. In fact, she might just have a word with him. She folds the sunglasses and hangs them by the collar of her low-cut blouse. Of course, she doesn't forget her famous ambrosia salad as she departs from the rest of the fidgeting women. 
"Ed, darling. You must try out my signature dish!" she daintily holds up a spoon and attempts to feed the pale newcomer. 
He cautiously opens his mouth, unsure of how else to respond to the gesture. He tries to find Peg within the crowd, hoping she'll give him a new task away from this uncomfortably touchy person. And as luck would have it, his savior has come to the rescue. Peg doesn't hesitate to pull Edward away, cheerfully mumbling a domestic excuse. 
Once freed from the shackles of awkward social interactions, the man tiptoes his way out of the yard and down the street. He doesn't like the constant murmur of people talking. He doesn't understand the jokes, the loud laughs, the complicit slaps on the back. He feels as if he's on the other side of a glass window, separated from an audience demanding cooperation despite him only being able to discern muffled, discontinued meaning. 
None of this was mentioned in the Etiquette book. Or perhaps it has always been there, and the Inventor never got to the specific chapter. Died lamentably before he could explain how one navigates neighborhood BBQ parties.
Edward's step is clumsy and he doesn't have a particular direction in mind. In his scattered daze he nearly trips over something and turns around apologetically. You're sitting on the ground, resting against the fence. The book you were reading is now thrown aside, as you're too busy massaging the ankle that just got kicked by the sudden intruder. You look up, ready to scold the responsible airhead, but your eyes stop on an eccentric feature that catches your attention. 
"What happened to your hands?"
You're a little embarrassed by your unexpected, tactless curiosity. The man seems entirely unfazed, however.
"They weren't finished. I'm incomplete."
"Hmm. Isn't everyone?" 
Edward considers the question and recalls the people he's met so far. Peg and her husband. Joyce. The children. 
"But they don't look unfinished. They have all the body parts."
You chuckle slightly at the literal observation. 
"Well, you can't check them on the inside, can you? Most people have missing parts. Or broken ones."
"Where would you get it fixed, then?" Edward is startled by this new discovery. 
"You learn to fix it yourself. Otherwise it just stays like that, maybe forever."
He lifts his hands and stares at them. Is he going to be like this forever, too? He hasn't pondered the concept of time much before Peg had found him. Yet now, 'forever' feels unsettling. 
"Do your hands bother you that much?"
Edward doesn't know how to reply. He wishes he could resemble everyone else, that much is true. Then people wouldn't stare. And they wouldn't be afraid. As he mulls over the right words, he suddenly becomes aware of his surroundings. It's the house he noticed earlier, when he first arrived here. Which means...
He examines the person before him. They, too, look complete. So why?
"Why does everyone avoid this place?" He remembers the gathering he just left. "You weren't at the neighborhood party either. I thought all neighbors will show up."
"I was never invited."
"Why?"
You shrug.
"You're also not currently attending, are you? Otherwise you wouldn't be here."
"I took a break. It's too loud. Can I sit here?"
Before you can answer, he drops himself next to you with a thud. His fingers swish together as he adjusts his posture. 
"Oh, sorry, I forgot. What is your name? I'm Edward."
"Uhh... (Y/N)." You mutter, taken aback by his direct approach. What an odd fellow, you think to yourself.
"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)." As he scans your features again, he feels compelled to add, "You look rather pretty."
A faint blush takes over your face and you twirl your hair in an attempt to hide it. Is he mocking you? You genuinely can't read his intentions. 
"You don't look too bad yourself, Edward. I think the hands add to your charm." You eventually find the confidence to blurt it out, quickly following up with a laugh.
His heart tightens and he almost forgets about his hazardous extremities, having to stop himself from touching his now throbbing chest. He's never malfunctioned before. It doesn't feel like anything is wrong, either. Your comment, for some reason, made him very happy. 
(Y/N). Looking back to everything that happened, he's glad. Maybe he should thank Joyce next time he sees her. He wouldn't have met you otherwise. 
As the sun begins to set, you remind Edward that it's impolite to leave a party for too long. He protests, stating he prefers your company. As flattered as you are, you rephrase it as Peg being worried about his sudden disappearance and he feels bad enough to agree on his early retirement. On the condition he can hang out with you again. Once you guarantee a reunion, he makes his way back home. 
As he lays on Kim's bizarrely fluid mattress, tucked into the layered pastel sheets, Edward is overwhelmed by a strange, unfamiliar warmth. A wide, childish smile is plastered on his face and won't go away. Each time he closes his eyes to fall asleep, he pictures the encounter. (Y/N). It's a nice name, isn't it? He finds it particularly charming. He whispers it out loud in the dark room, as if making sure it's real. Reminding himself you're real. 
He can't properly explain it. It's the same thick window that stands between him and the world, but you're next to him. An outsider. A rejection. The idea that someone else out there shares his struggle has cleansed him of any longing for acceptance. Why bother with a sea of foreign, smudged faces? Peg becomes Joyce, and Joyce fades into Marge, and they all become a generic crowd of smiling pleasantries. It's a funny thing, being among humans. Once he left his old mansion behind, he realized how truly alone he had been. Still, being surrounded by people he could not comprehend made him feel even more lonely. That is the tragedy; sitting at the grand table, empty handed, unseen, unheard. Misunderstood. No one's fault, really. It just happens. But every now and then, if fate so allows, one might just find another starved attendant. With the same glint in their eyes, of someone not belonging. 
Oh, he can't wait to see you again.
It's unusually noisy outside for a late evening and you can't help but glance out the window. That's when you notice the roaring crowd, trampling in a hysterical march of unknown purpose. You have a bad feeling about it. The horned moon leers down at you like a bad omen and you quickly throw a jacket on, sprinting into the street. 
"What's this all about?" you shyly ask the nearest group. 
"Witch!" Esmeralda scowls at you with a pointing finger. 
Peg notices the commotion and runs towards you, completely disregarding the prophetic warnings of the woman. 
"Oh, (Y/N). It's Edward. They..." she sighs, frustrated. "I know I don't have the right to ask you this, but you're his friend. Could you please make sure he's alright?" Her voice is pleading and regretful. 
You nod without saying anything else. Before you turn to leave, you swiftly gesture to Esmeralda, raising your index fingers up and mimicking a devilish look. She gasps and throws her hands together in prayer.
It had to be done. 
Meanwhile, Edward has reached his old mansion and just now stopped in the entrance hall, panting anxiously. He feels nauseous and helpless. It's not that he's being chased by the enraged members of the neighborhood that alarms him. He cannot stand the possibility of not being in your presence ever again. How frightful, how agonizing! He claws at a nearby column in turmoil. 
It can't be, it won't happen. He'll tear his way through the masses if he has to. Oh, what a terrible thought. His Inventor would roll in the grave if he knew the violent ruminations that plague him right now. But if he has no other choice...Would he go as far as taking someone's life if it was for your sake? Well, technically speaking, his sake, really. He wants to see you. He needs to.
Panic slowly creeps through his body. The thoughts are piling up in an erratic hum and he can't find his focus again. He paces back and forth, attempting to recollect himself, but there's an urgency that drowns him in cold sweat. 
"Edward?"
The ringing stops. A switch has been flipped and he snaps his head in the direction of the voice. It's you. Completely spellbound, he extends his hand to touch your face, verifying whether you might be an illusion of his feverish desires instead. The blade pierces your skin, leaving a bright red trail behind. 
"I'm so sorry-" he cries out, realizing his act. 
You softly lower his hand with a reassuring smile. 
"It's just a small cut. Don't worry about it. I think we have more important matters at hand, won't you agree?" you joke as you nudge your head towards the window. 
"I spoke to the police officer on the way here, so we shouldn't have any surprise guests." 
You remove your jacket and throw it over some dusty furniture before climbing up the stairs. Halfway through you briefly stop and urge Edward to join you. He simply nods.
When the issue is settled and everything has been said and done, will you return to your miserable exile? Won't the neighbors become suspicious if you're frequently seen sneaking up the hill? Perhaps even the utmost secrecy won't prolong the visits much. 
And then what?
As he considers the potential scenarios, he becomes increasingly impatient. The joy of your return has been tainted by the impending doom of abandonment. He wishes you'd just stay with him here, forever. 
Once the conclusion has been reached, he lets out a quiet apology. Maybe to you, maybe to the beloved Inventor, maybe even to himself. He inserts a finger into the entrance lock and silently twists it. 
You must forgive him. Or at least try to understand him. He just loves you too much, (Y/N). Is it truly such a hideous crime? To want to keep you safe? If so, he will live with the guilt. But not without you. 
You're home. 
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nochukoo97 · 7 months
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when you show that jungkook is your man
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main work: venom
word count: 680+
You watched from the corner of the room as Jungkook sparred with Woojae, boxing gloves making contact with the mitts.
There were a few other people training in the gym as well, but they were mainly on their own. However, you definitely didn’t fail to notice a certain someone ogling at your boyfriend from the corner of the room.
Yubin practically had heart eyes as she stared at Jungkook, his muscles still prominent through the loose shirt he was wearing, you couldn’t help but feel a little agitated at the sight of her drooling over your boyfriend.
“Okay, nice work today Jeon, you’re done,” Woojae pats him on the back, taking off his mitts. You’re about to get up to walk to your boyfriend, but someone else beats you to it.
“Jungkookie~” She bats her lashes at him, wrapping her arms around his, “Do you want to hang out after this?”
“I can’t, I’ve got plans,” He attempts to shrug off her grip, but she relents. He had plans with you, to be specific.
Your blood boils at this sight, didn’t she at least have some form of personal space? It made you mad to see another girl, especially her, cling onto your boyfriend like that.
“Can you not touch him like that,” You walk towards her, sending daggers at her as she scoffs.
“Why? Jealous? Just because he gives you private lessons, doesn’t mean I can’t do all this, who are you to tell me that anyways?” She rolls her eyes, attempting to pull Jungkook away from you, but he stays planted to the ground.
Jungkook awaits what you’re about to do next, he can feel your anger radiating from you as you fume in front of him. As much as Yubin had been annoying him, it was amusing to see you react this way.
“I’m his girlfriend,” You deadpan, pulling her arm away and standing in between them as you cross your arms.
Yubin doesn’t take this lightly, “Yeah right, stop trying to fake stuff just to keep him to yourself,” she scoffs in disbelief, “Jungkook, she’s lying right?”
“No?” He frowns at her, pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you, your head leaning against his chest as you smile proudly at her.
“She’s my girlfriend,” He laughs, watching as Yubin’s mouth drops to the ground, eyes widening in shock.
“What? How? When did you-“
“Two months ago, during my match, he’s mine so back off,” You giggle, pulling Jungkook to head to the couch, leaving her in shock.
-
“That was cute,” Jungkook whispers, tucking a strand of hair away from your face as you sit closer to him on the couch.
“That was not cute,” You grumble, “I wanted to punch her seeing her cling onto you like that,”
“You’re mine anyways, no need to get jealous,” He chuckles, leaning in to peck your forehead affectionately.
You spot Yubin glaring at the both of you from the other end of the gym, so you decided to take this opportunity to prove it to her.
You climb on top of his lap, leaning down to kiss him as Jungkook wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He knows what you’re doing, it’s entertaining to see you become more and more bold everyday.
“Baby, I think you should wipe down before we go home,” You break apart from the kiss, tracing lines onto his chest as you tell him.
“Yeah? Wanna do it for me?” Jungkook manoeuvres you out of his lap, hands reaching for the hem of his shirt as he pulls it over his head.
He turns around, bare back exposed as you grab a towel and begin wiping him down. You make an effort to step aside, letting a certain someone catch the view of your boyfriend’s back, red angry scratches scattered here and there from your nails.
Turning around for a split second, a smirk tugs the corner of your mouth as you watch Yubin stare in horror at your boyfriend’s back, evidence of your doings all over.
Jungkook turns around, grabbing the towel from you and putting it aside, before putting a new shirt back on. You can only smile proudly, hoping that Yubin would finally know her place.
taglist: @sparklingocean @idkjustlovingbts @moonstar127 @babybella337 @ane102 @synnfulqt
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liliavnrg · 4 months
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Thinking about Lilia... and his love for surprises. Specifically, his love for surprising you, and hearing your cute yelps.
Lilia is quite the playful man, and if he knows you're sensitive to, let's say... the cold? Well, that just gives him something else to add to his daily life.
Although the fae wears gloves most of the time, there are moments when he takes them off, specially during colder weathers or when he's going to touch something cold.
Why? The reason is simple: to touch you, of course!
It was an accident the first time it happened, he swears. It had been a cold night, he had forgotten his gloves back in his room. The feeling of your bare skin under his hands was always comforting, so he slipped his hands under your shirt to caress your back.
Even Lilia was startled at the way you suddenly pulled away with a yelp, red eyes wide as he slowly connected the dots. The grin that appeared on his face tried to show innocence as he apologized, but you knew better than to trust him when he had that gleam in his eyes.
Now, you have to try to keep your guard up at all times. From touching you with his cold hands while you're cuddling to suddenly appearing behind you, sneaking his hands under your shirt and grabbing your waist. It has, unfortunately, become one of his favorite pastimes.
Worse thing is, no matter how much you try to pull away, unless he wants to let you go, you're going to be squirming in his hold. It was so unfair how strong he was, truly.
But of course, Lilia knows that he has to respect your boundaries. He's very skilled when it comes to knowing when he can startle you or not.
And, if you're someone who gets sick easily, then he'll be more careful and do it less often, but he won't stop. Instead of keeping his cold hands on your skin for as long as he wishes, he'll simply touch you for a few seconds before letting you go. Just enough so he can hear that cute sound of surprise from you.
To top it off, this man would use a silly excuse like "my hands are cold, can you warm them up for me, dear?" before placing his freezing hands on your stomach. The little shit.
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"Why are you avoiding me?" The fae looked at you with a sad expression on his face, but you knew better. There was nothing like sadness in his eyes, quite the contrary. "I just want to give my darling human a hug."
"I literally saw you grabbing some ice after taking your gloves off a few moments ago, Lilia." You narrowed your eyes at him, taking another step back when he tried to get closer.
He didn't even try to be subtle about it. Why would he? It was much more amusing when you knew what was coming, your attempts at avoiding the inevitable were adorable in his eyes.
"Oh, dear, you caught me. I guess it means I must give up." Lilia sighed, shaking his head in defeat.
His words caught you off guard for a moment, a second before you realized the truth, but a second was all he needed to make his move.
The fae quickly closed the distance before you could react, his speed making all of your efforts to run away completely futile, as his hands found their way under your shirt.
"Lilia! You-" A yelp escaped you at the feeling of his freezing fingers on your skin, the man laughing as he made sure to keep his hands on the most sensitive spots. "Let go, you old bat!"
"Khee hee hee, I don't think I will!" He watched with amusement as you squirmed in his arms, trying to find a way to free yourself from his attack.
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the-kr8tor · 3 months
Note
We’ve seen Hobie drunk but may I request drunk reader?
Yes you may!!! Thank you for requesting! 🫶
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW drinking, CW vomit. FLUFF
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
Hobie enters the rowdy pub, weaving through the crowd and avoiding the eyes of his mates from across the pub or else he might get dragged into their drinking. It's not usually a bad thing to have a spontaneous drink with the mandem, but tonight he only has one mission: get you home.
Before he left for patrol, you've specifically given him explicit instructions to get you home before the sun starts to peek up from the horizon because you know if you don't manage to go home by then, oh your friends would most definitely get you blacked out drunk. You needed a scapegoat, and that's Hobie. You had it all planned, he would burst into your group, saying there's an emergency at home and you got to get out and help him quickly.
Well that was supposed to happen but seeing you down five shots in a row, feet wobbling from just standing, he knows he's in for a ride.
Hobie guesses that your friends managed to figure out your plan beforehand and got you to drink so much that your loud laughter triumphs over the already noisy pub.
He sidles up to you, a hand over the small of your back to help stabilize you on your feet. The group cheers when they spot him next to you, numerous shots and pints get shoved in his face to which he refuses immediately.
Meanwhile, you stare at him with wide eyes, mouth agape, hand tapping on his chest to get his attention.
“Yes, love? What's got you like that?”
“You.” Sighing, you say it breathlessly. “How are you so handsome?” The low light of the pub illuminates his face, casting shadow in all the right places.
He chuckles, hand squeezing your hip. You sharply turn to your friends, gesturing wildly at him. “It's Hobie Fucking Brown!” You yell at the top of your lungs. Said man blinks at you in surprise.
Your friends cheer drunkenly except for the designated driver who just shakes her head, the glass of orange juice swishing as another one of your friends suddenly loops their arms around her neck.
“Look at him!” You screech again, getting the entire pub's attention. Grabbing his face, you squish it in your hands. “So fucking handsome!”
Hobie chuckles as everyone's eyes look at the chaotic scene. A friend of his notices this, he whistles, hooting and hollering a ‘fuck yeah, he is!’ You seem to agree by yelling back a cheer towards their table.
He's never seen you this drunk, you're usually quiet when you get remotely tipsy, this is a new side of you that he's never seen. He loves it, if only you're not in public then he'll tease you back a hundred times more.
Holding your wrists, he takes your hands away from his face to your dismay. With a pout, you watch him gather your things, saying a quick goodbye to everybody before he gets roped into drinking too.
Knowing that you'll squirm and protest, he drapes your jacket over your face like he's done with a bat that accidentally entered the houseboat a few years ago. Sure enough, you try to wiggle out of the fabric, but you're too drunk to find the end of the jacket.
With his arms around you, he leads you outside of the pub, your muffled curses falling on deaf ears.
Hobie takes the jacket off you, your pout and glare greeting him. The fresh air flutters your lashes, waking you up a bit from your drunken stupor.
“You'd thank me once you're sober.” He's the one that takes your face this time, pressing a chaste kiss on your warm forehead.
“You took me outside like a wild animal” you pout as Hobie puts the motorcycle helmet on your head. Clipping it on securely.
“It was needed or I wouldn't have gotten you out in time before they started dousing me in beer. ‘m sorry,” He takes your pout in between his fingers, moving your head from side to side. “I'll make it up to you tomorrow, yeah? I'll take care of your hangover self.”
Your liquor addled brain makes you open your mouth wide, almost taking a bite of his fingers. Thanks to his quick reflexes, he dodges it.
“Awwe let me bite, Hobart”
“Later”
“Really?” you say, smiling.
“No”
You look at him with puppy dog eyes, Hobie doesn't falter, shaking his head with his hands on his hips. Inside, he's fighting the urge to scoop you up and let you bite wherever you want.
“Get on the bloody bike.” you do as you're told with minimal groaning.
The wind whips at your face, eyes closed, savouring the cool breeze.
Hobie's driving slower than usual, his hand flying back to you everytime you lean too far back in your seat.
While idling in a red light, his arm tucked behind him to grab your hands and enclose them around his waist.
Surprisingly, you don't grumble. Instead, you lean closer to him, face nuzzling on his back leaving a goosebump inducing kiss on his nape.
Hobie could only tap your hands that's holding his waist tightly. Glad that the helmet obscures the giddy smile on his lips.
He kind of regrets living in a houseboat now that he has to guide you down home. With you still wobbly on your feet, you hold on to him for dear life as he tests his balance.
“Fuck it.” Hobie grabs the back of your legs, carrying you effortlessly.
You almost puke from the sudden movement. “I'm gonna be sick.”
“I’ll point you right on the water then”
“Noooo, I'll hold it in!” You mumble a ‘poor fishies’
Finally getting you to bed, all clean and in clean clothes that he has to wrangle you to get it on. You cuddle nicely in bed, arms reaching up to hold him.
“Hobieeee! Cuddle?”
“What in the bloody hell did they let you drink?”
You giggle, flexing your hands to beckon him closer.
With a roll of his eyes, he flops down on you, earning a happy screech from you. Long arms enveloping you, you bask in his warmth while he rubs affectionately at your back. You fall asleep not long after, with your hand balling his shirt, using his chest as your personal pillow.
Oh the hangover would be horrible for you but Hobie's more than ready to help you with so much care and love.
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its-all-stardust · 2 months
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Sugar || 6
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Masterlist || Part Five || Part Seven
Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader
Word count: 3.7k
Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.
Notes: Reader is mentioned to have hair in this chapter and wears a bonnet to sleep at night. It's also alluded to that the reader doesn't have a close relationship with her mother, though the specifics aren't mentioned and at this point are open to interpretation.
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“Have you ever been on a plane before?” you ask, noticing Steven’s hesitancy that’s been hanging around since the two of you stepped into the airport.
“I haven’t, no,” he says, fiddling with the strap of his backpack sitting at his feet. The two of you are currently waiting for the plane to arrive.
Steven finally managed to wrangle Donna into approving enough time off that you could take him on a small vacation. Until now, it had never occurred to you that he might not like flying. You’re so used to it, never batting an eye when you need to fly somewhere. Nowadays, it’s become such a regular form of travel for you, it’s no different from taking a car.
You take Steven’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Will you be okay? I can get medicine if you’re not feeling well.”
“I’ll be fine,” Steven assures you, squeezing your hand. “You said it’s a short flight?”
“A little over an hour,” you say, kissing his cheek. “Not long at all. And then we get to spend the next few days relaxing.”
You picked a place in Germany. Nothing too flashy for a first outing despite the casino located there. That doesn’t seem quite like Steven’s style, though, and it’s not yours for that matter. You have better ways of making money than gambling. Personally, you’re looking forward to the thermal baths. You hope they’re not too crowded.
Steven told you a few weeks ago that he spoke French. It happened while dining at a lavish restaurant. You had asked if he needed help with the menu since nothing was named in English, but he was the one who eventually ordered for you both, wanting to show off. The whole thing made you consider France for your first vacation spot, but, to be honest, Germany interested you much more.
You had to force yourself to stop thinking about Steven speaking French to you the whole trip.
“Where is everyone else, anyway?” Steven asks. The two of you are in a private lounge large enough to hold more people, but just as you planned, you are alone.
“It’s just us. We’re flying private.” You don’t always fly alone, especially for longer flights, but you want Steven all to yourself for this trip and don’t want to worry about other people on a crowded plane.
You also want to impress him just a tad.
Steven’s eyebrows shoot up. “What, really?”
“Mhmm. And I think this is us.” You nod toward the staff member walking toward you.
“The car’s ready for you, ma’am.”
“Car?” Steven asks as you stand, shouldering your handbag.
“To take us to the jet,” you say simply. “It’ll take us out on the tarmac and right up to it.”
Steven’s speechless as the two of you are led out of the lounge and to an opened doorway, a black car waiting just outside.
Even though he’s still a little dazed, Steven rushes forward, attempting to get to the car and open the door for you, but the man who led you here beats him to it. Steven turns back to you awkwardly and, still determined to be gentlemanly, holds out his hand to help you inside.
Smiling indulgently at him, you take it before sliding onto the back seat with Steven following right after. A minute later, he helps you back out, pausing only to look up at the jet waiting for the two of you.
“It’s not too late to cancel,” you whisper to him.
“I want to do this,” he tells you firmly, though you notice the nervous bobbing of his throat. He takes the first step toward the stairs, determined to prove it to you, though when he reaches the base, he lets you go first.
Greeting the flight attendant, you make your way toward the sets of double seats in the middle of the jet. Two sets face each other with a table between them on one side of the aisle, while on the other is a small set of cabinets with a TV on top. Aiming for the seats facing the entrance and cockpit, you pause.
“Do you want the window or the aisle seat?” you ask like you’re in a normal plane and not a private jet where you both can have a window seat if you want. The thing is, you want Steven sitting next to you, so you’re more than happy to sacrifice your preference so he’s more comfortable.
“Window, please.”
After stowing your bags in the small overhead compartment, Steven slides into your chosen seats, with you following and pressing snuggly up against him. The seats aren’t so cramped that you’re forced to be that close; you just want to be.
When the jet starts to taxi along the tarmac as the pilot moves into position on the runway for takeoff, you feel Steven tense against you.
“Want me to put on a movie? Help take your mind off it?” you ask, concerned. You start rubbing a hand soothingly up and down his arm, attempting to distract him.
Steven shakes his head and keeps his eyes locked on the window.
“I think…” he starts, “it’s just because it’s new. I don’t know what to expect.” He turns away from the window to look at you. “But being with you makes it easier.”
You beam at him, your smile stretching wide across your mouth. You’re glad you can be here for him.
Steven leans forward, aiming for your lips. You close your eyes and tilt your head, waiting. As his lips brush yours, the jet starts shaking as it speeds up, about to lift into the air.
Steven gasps and falls back into his seat, pressing himself as far as he can and desperately clutching the armrest. All you can do is hold onto him and wait. But once the shaking stops a moment later, the wheels off the ground and the jet taking flight, Steven sighs, some of the tension leaving him.
“That wasn’t so bad,” he says lightly like he hasn’t been slightly panicking for hours. You smother the laugh that threatens to bubble up.
“And you’ll get used to it the more vacations we take,” you say encouragingly, relieved he seems to be settling in.
“Plan on keeping me around, then?” Steven teases.
Smiling softly, you look at him for a moment before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m keeping you for a long time.”
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Some of your other babies were less than enthusiastic about your vacation destinations. They had hoped you’d take them to luxury resorts, tropical islands, maybe even on a cruise. And for a few of them, you did.
But those weren’t things you gravitated toward when you took time off. You even avoided major tourist spots because they simply didn’t appeal to you.
Why go to Paris and get pickpocketed every two seconds when trying to see the Eiffel Tower when you can go somewhere more enjoyable for you?
But then there’s Steven.
So far, he’s practically in love with the town in Germany that many one-time travelers would never think to visit. He certainly seems to be enjoying it far more than your other babies would have. He stares in wide-eyed wonder at everything, even the hotel the two of you are staying in.
Upon first glance, the exterior is reminiscent of a more modern castle. Further inspection turns the sides into a vast amount of awning-covered windows leading to the various rooms. Even still, the sheer size of the place is impressive, especially so to someone who’s never had the chance to stay anywhere like it.
The room you booked even draws a breathless “This is bigger than my whole flat” from Steven. You try to tell him the terrace of your chosen penthouse suite shouldn’t count because it’s outside, but he only gives you an obstinate look.
The suite is decorated beautifully with paintings, brightly colored walls, and elegant wood-trimmed furniture, giving it a more thoughtful feel than the stark black and chrome modern style of so many other places.
You don’t stay in the room for long, though. A quick in and out to drop off luggage, freshen up, and switch into walking shoes. You like to keep activities light on travel days, so you don’t have anything overly taxing in mind.
After grabbing something light to eat at the on-site restaurant, you take Steven on a stroll through the lush park next to the hotel. In certain circumstances—and terrain—hiking isn’t your favorite, but walking through a beautifully designed park with a vast variety of flora, a quaint stream, and leisurely paths is right up your alley.
Steven enjoys it as well, the rough start to the day entirely forgotten.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place so beautiful,” he comments, gazing around at the trees surrounding the path you stopped on. You’re sitting on a bench, enjoying the shade for a moment, admiring Steven as he enthusiastically holds out his phone, taking a million pictures of the various kinds of trees filling the park.
“I can’t wait to take you to some of the other places I have in mind. Then you can rank them all.”
Steven turns to you, nervously licking his lips. “Would you mind if I picked a place someday?”
You lean over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll take you anywhere you want, baby.”
“Anywhere?” Exciting starts shining in his eyes.
“Well, if you ask to see the Titanic, I’m saying ‘no’ immediately,” you tease, making Steven laugh and lean into you. “Take a picture of us?”
He dutifully holds out his phone, wrapping his free arm around your shoulder and snapping a couple of pictures, making sure to capture the trees and flowers behind you.
You admire it when Steven shows it to you, memorizing his features even now, and remind yourself to save it with the others when he sends it to you.
A while later, after having your fill of the park, you and Steven start the trek back to the hotel. Your hand is tucked into the crook of Steven’s elbow, and you’re suddenly dragged to a stop a few blocks from your destination.
You let out a gasp, startled, and look at Steven.
He’s staring off toward one of the stores lining the street, and when you see what it is, you give a dramatic roll of your eyes.
“Of course you want to go to a bookshop while on vacation.” You’ve yet to visit his flat—and have yet to talk him into someplace bigger—but he’s admitted to you the place is covered in books. A habit further funded by you, based on the credit card alerts you get every time Steven buys an expensive edition of some out-of-print tome.
“Can we go in?” Steven pleads.
“Can you even read German?” you ask, already tugging him toward the shop.
“I can learn,” he assures, practically racing you toward the door now.
The next hour is spent watching Steven flit between the shelves, different books catching his eye before he even finishes looking at the first.
You do some browsing of your own, picking up only one book as a souvenir, but mostly, you watch your baby have the time of his life.
“Love, look!” Steven calls, referring to you with the pet name that is decidedly more appropriate to use in public than the mummy that comes out for special occasions.
Meeting halfway between the shelf you were browsing and his, Steven thrusts a book toward you. You glance at the German on the cover before your eye catches on what clearly caught his attention: hieroglyphics.
If you’re being honest, you didn’t think a book about Ancient Egypt would be found in the touristy section of a German town, but you’re excited for your baby nonetheless.
“Steven, that’s great! Is this a new one for you?”
“I don’t recognize the author’s name, so I think so.” He flips the book back around, examining the cover again. “Can I get it?” he asks, bright eyes now searching yours.
“Just that one,” you start as you glance toward the stack tucked under his arm, “or those ones, too?”
Steven doesn’t miss a beat before excitedly saying, “All of them, please.”
You smile at him and kiss his cheek. He’s come a long way since your relationship first started. He still hesitates over some things, but you’re slowly chipping away at him.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
“Thank you,” Steven says softly as you lead him toward the register.
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What’s left of the day is spent relaxing. First, on the terrace overlooking the park you and Steven visited. Then a private dinner, also you enjoyed on the terrace, making the most of the beautiful weather. Finally, the living room as the sun began to set.
“Do you always get tired when you travel?” Steven asks from his spot, curled up against your side on the couch. “Because I’m exhausted.” He lets out a dramatic yawn to prove his point to you.
“Must have been all that walking,” you say, running your fingers through his hair, something you do whenever you get the chance. “Your nerves this morning probably didn’t help.”
“True,” he agrees. He rubs his face against you and closes his eyes as if preparing to go to sleep. “I’m much better now, though.”
You let out a pleased hum. “What do you think about a couple’s spa day tomorrow?” You don’t have a set itinerary, though there are a couple of things you want to do while you’re here. The spa is one of them, especially the one that includes the fancy thermal baths.
Steven mumbles something, and you hear his breathing start to slow. He really is going to fall asleep. But as much as you love the idea of him using you as a pillow, your current position isn’t comfortable enough to spend the night. Not to mention, you still need to do your nighttime routine. 
“Baby?” you say, nudging Steven gently. “You want to go to bed?”
“No.” It’s said so quietly, but there’s no mistaking it, and you can’t help but let out a laugh that shakes your body just enough for Steven’s eyes to shoot open, startled.
“Sorry!” he says, sitting up. His hair is terribly mussed, and there’s a flush to his cheeks. You feel your heart skip a beat. “It is getting late, isn’t it?” he says, trying to brush off what just happened. Then Steven glances at the decorative yet functional clock on the wall.
“Oh, bugger,” he says under his breath as he starts patting himself down and looking around the room.
“Lost something?” you ask, curious.
“My phone. Have you seen it?”
“Your room, maybe?” Steven starts toward it when you call after him. “What do you need it for?”
“Was going to call my mum,” Steven calls back to you, a little muffled by the distance and walls of his bedroom. He lets out a triumphant sound. “Found it!”
Steven’s mentioned in the past that he often talks with his mother, but you’ve never been around for an actual phone call before.
“Do you call your mom every day?” you ask when he returns to the living room, returning to his spot on the couch.
Steven stiffens. “Well…not every day… Just most days,” he finishes quietly, his face even more flushed than before. He doesn’t look at you as he slowly taps his phone screen.
You can guess why he’s suddenly more subdued.
“I think that’s sweet,” you say softly. “You must really love her.”
You’re a little jealous. Not of his mother, but of the fact he has one around to love and who must surely love him in return. 
Steven easily meets your eye. “I do. She’s my mum, how could I not?” He bites his lip, still looking at you as he thinks something over. “Maybe you could…meet her…one day. If you want, that is. No pressure or anything.”
You open your mouth to answer, but Steven keeps going.
“Actually, know what? Never mind, that’s silly. I shouldn’t have—”
“Steven!” you exclaim as you lean forward to press a hand against his mouth, his lips awkwardly twisted mid-word under your palm. With Steven finally silenced, you say, “I’d love to meet your mother. If that’s what you want.”
You try not to think about how that isn’t normal: you meeting a baby’s family. A baby might talk about their family, but none of them have asked if you wanted to meet them and meld two different parts of their lives. It falls outside the bounds of a typical sugar mommy/baby relationship.
You’re not dating your babies, not really. Sure, you have fun with them—take care of them, kiss them, sleep with them—but at the end of the day, you’re paying them for their time and companionship.
It’s sex work, not a romantic partnership.
It should scare you that Steven wants to introduce you to his mother, of all people—arguably the most important person in his life. It’s a red flag, at the very least. For Steven, the lines between what your relationship is and isn’t is starting to blur.
“Really?” Steven asks disbelievingly when your hand falls from his face.
And maybe they’re starting to blur for you, too, because you say, “Yes, really.”
If only you could take a picture of the smile on his face at your words. You swear it’s the brightest you’ve ever seen.
Before you realize what’s happening, Steven’s hands are on your face, pulling you toward him. His lips crash into yours as you practically fall into his lap. In his excitement, the kiss lands awkwardly, reminiscent of the very first one the two of you shared.
Your hands scramble to find purchase, trying to save yourself from falling on Steven. One hand slots against his hip, but the other unfortunately lands right on Steven’s stomach, punching the air out of him and making him yelp.
“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, immediately crawling off him.
“It’s my fault,” Steven quickly says. “I just got a little…”
“Excited?” You can’t help but give a playful smirk, sending another flush across his cheeks.
“A bit, yeah,” he laughs. Once the two of you are settled back onto the couch, he asks, “Do you…want to sit in on my phone call? Give it a test run?”
The call with his mom. The person he wants to introduce you to, like showing off your sugar mommy to your actual mom is something people do on the regular.
But still, you say, “I’d love to. But don’t feel like you have to just because I’m here.” You can think about what this all means later, after the vacation. For now, you’ll enjoy spending time with Steven as he shares this piece of himself with you.
“I want you here,” Steven says without looking up from his phone, already pressing the button to call his mom. 
“Voicemail,” he announces, sounding disappointed. He puts the phone on speaker anyway. “She travels a lot, so I shouldn’t be surprised that she doesn’t answer all my calls.”
You notice the message is just the default one, not even giving his mother’s name. Odd, but maybe she doesn’t know how to add it. Or maybe she just doesn’t care.
“Hello, mum!” Steven says brightly once the recording starts. “I’m here with my friend.” He says your name and motions for you to speak.
Unsure what to say, you end up repeating, “Hello, mum!”
It’s awkward, and you mentally kick yourself for letting that slip out—she’s certainly not your mother—but Steven only smiles.
“You won’t believe this town she’s taken me to in Germany. Have you ever been?”
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You haven’t been in bed for long when you hear your door creak open. Looking over, you see someone hovering in the doorway.
“Steven?” you call, confused.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?” he asks, stepping just a foot inside the room. He’s in his pajamas—a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants.
“It’s fine. I haven’t even gotten the chance to fall asleep yet. Is something wrong?” You sit up, squinting at him in the dark. The only light streams through the windows from the full moon outside.
“Can I…sleep in here? With you?” He’s hesitant, and his shoulders are tense. Already prepared for rejection, yet persisting despite it.
Your heart starts beating a little faster. You’ve been together for a while now, but Steven has always slept in his bed whenever he stayed at your apartment. The most you’ve ever done is take cat naps curled up together on the couch.
While you’re sure Steven doesn’t intend on anything beyond actual sleeping, this is still new territory for the two of you.
“Of course you can, baby,” you say, perhaps sounding a little too eager as you flip the sheets open on the empty side of the bed.
When you look up, Steven is already at the side of the bed, ready to climb in. As you both settle in, facing each other, you’re tempted to ask what prompted this sudden desire to share a bed with you, but you hold off for now. You can ask in the morning.
“Your bonnet is nice,” Steven says softly as he looks you over. The pattern is nothing fancy, simply various leaves rendered in watercolor and printed onto the silk.
“Oh, thank you,” you laugh a little. He’s never seen you in it before. You only put it on when you’re in bed and take it off before you leave your bedroom when he’s over. “I’ll get you a matching one if you’d like.”
“You think it would suit me?” he asks, a playful smile on his face.
“I do. It might also help with your bedhead in the morning.” Steven’s curls are always a sight first thing in the morning before he gets ready for the day.
Steven laughs. “You’ll have to tell me why it’s such a good idea tomorrow, and I’ll think about it.”
Then, his hand moves around under the sheets. You’re confused, unsure of what he’s trying to do, until his hand bumps into yours. 
Understanding now, you move your hand so he can hold it more easily. 
“Night, love,” Steven sighs, closing his eyes, a small, lingering smile still on his face.
“Sweet dreams, baby.”
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