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#and instead of thinking maybe we should like take her somewhere
oetscop · 1 year
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more random childhood neglect thoughts. within the last month ive been (re???) diagnosed with ocd and also crohns. i originally wasnt going to go through with an autism diagnosis because its damn near impossible when youre an adult and also (technically) a woman. and id have to seek out another specialist and i just. frankly dont want to do that lmao
but after talking with my pcp (who heard me talking abt ibs and was like thats absolutely not fucking ibs) shes like pretty convinced i have dyspraxia. which makes sense i mean i have adhd and im probably on the spectrum
but i never considered it. i didnt learn how to tie my shoes until i was like. 8. and its not even like..the normal way. and it always takes me a fucking long time. and i never thought anything of it. bc nobody fucking taught me how. everyone around me just KNEW. and i was keeping mine tied and just slipping my shoes on. literally a teacher taught me when i tied my shoes together one time and like was shocked that i didnt know how to fix it.
so like. who even knows. like what if thats something i wouldnt have struggled with if someone just told me how to do it? i dont fucking know.
the older i get the more resentful i am.
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fishofthewoods · 7 days
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I see a lot of people clowning on the people of Pelican Town for not repairing the community center themselves or clowning on Lewis for embezzling and. like. Those criticisms aren't entirely unfair. But I think instead of coming at it from a perspective of "why can't the townspeople do this" we should be asking "why and how can the farmer do this?"
Like. Think about it. The farmer arrives in Stardew Valley on the first day of spring. By the first day they're obviously different. By day five the spirits of the forest who haven't been seen by the townsfolk in years or generations are speaking to them. By the second week they've developed a rapport with the wizard that lives outside town.
In the spring they go foraging and find more than even Linus, who's spent so many years learning the ways of the valley. Maybe he knows, when he sees them walking back home. Maybe he looks at them and understands that they're different, chosen somehow.
In the summer they fish in the lakes and the ocean for hours on end, catching fish that even Willy's only ever heard of, fish that he thought were the stuff of legend. They pull up giants from the deep and mutated monstrosities from the sewers.
In the fall, their crops grow incredibly immense; pumpkins twice as tall as a person, big enough that someone could live inside. The farmer cuts it down with an axe without even batting an eye. Does Lewis wonder, when he checks the collection bin that night and finds it full to the brim with pumpkin flesh? What does he think? Does he even leave the money? Does he have the funds to pay the farmer millions of dollars for the massive amounts of wine they sell? Or is it someone--something--else entirely?
In the winter, the farmer delves into the mines. No one in Pelican Town has been down there in decades. No one in living memory has been to the bottom. The farmer gets there within the season. They return to the surface with stories of dwarven ruins and shadow people, stories they only tell to Vincent and Jas, whose retellings will be dismissed by the adults as flights of fancy. People walking by the entrance to the mines sometimes hear the farmer in there, speaking in a language no one can understand. Something speaks back.
The farmer speaks to the the wizard. They speak to the spirit of a bear inside a centuries-old stone. They speak to the shadow people and the dwarves, ancient enemies, and they try to mend the rift. They speak to the Junimos, ancient spirits of the forest and the river and the mountain. They taste the nectar of the stardrops and speak to the valley itself. They change Pelican Town, and they change the valley. Things are waking up.
And what does Evelyn think? She's the oldest person in the valley; she was here when the farmer's grandfather was young. (How old *is* she, anyway? She never seems to age. She doesn't remember the year she was born.) Does she see the farmer and think of their grandfather? Does she try to remember if he was like this too, strange and wild and given the gifts of the forest?
And does their grandfather haunt the valley? He haunts the farm, still there even after his death; his body died somewhere else, but his spirit could never stay away for long. Does Abigail, using her ouija board on a stormy night, almost drop the planchette when she realizes it's moving on its own? Does Shane, walking to work long before anyone else leaves their house, catch glimpses of a wispy figure floating through the town? Does the farmer know their grandfather came back to the place they both love so much?
Mr. Qi takes interest in the farmer. He's different, too; in a different way, maybe, but the principles are the same. They're both exceptional, and no matter what Qi says about it being hard work and dedication, they both know the truth: the world bends around the both of them, changing to fit their needs. Most people aren't visited by fairies or witches. Most people don't have meteorites crash in their yard. Most people couldn't chop down trees all day without a break or speak to bears and mice and frogs.
The farmer is different. The rules of the world don't work for them the way they work for everyone else. The farmer goes fishing and finds the stuff of fairy tales. The farmer goes mining and fights shadow beasts and flying snakes. The farmer looks at paths the townspeople walk every day and finds buried in the dirt relics of lost civilizations.
The farmer is a violent, irrepressible miracle, chosen by the valley and destined to return to it someday. Even if they'd never received the letter, they would've come home.
They always come home eventually.
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personasintro · 10 months
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come for me | jjk
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it's a first proper date he's supposed to plan, unfortunately it does not go according to his plan
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, neighbors au, enemies to lovers (?)
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, protected s*x, little spanking, rough and quick s*x
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k+
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a/n: this is one of the secrets I've been keeping and god it's finally here!! i wasn't even planning on finishing this today but I did and I'm so happy to share it with you! hope you like it <3
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↳ previous parts
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Jungkook is convinced the entire world sucks.
What should be considered as the most exciting time for some men, Jungkook finds it as a literal torture. Planning a date shouldn't be so tough. He has never truly done it before – not when he truly meant it. Whenever he went out for what could be considered as a pathetic attempt at a date, its purpose was clear. To fuck and end it with a mind-blowing orgasm on both parts. 
He has never done it like… this. 
Fuck.
Just the thought of it makes him want to throw up. He definitely can't mention that to you – who's pretty much clueless about his thoughts and would kick him in the balls if you knew. 
“I don't know dude, you should bring her roses.” Taehyung proposes, watching his friend in a mild panic as he bounces Ruda in his arms. 
“She's not like other girls.”
“What do you mean? Every woman loves roses! You can't go wrong with that!” Taehyung protests, offended that Jungkook rejected his idea right away. 
“I wouldn't say every but yeah, it's the effort that counts. Plus, she knows you've never done this before.” Yoongi joins in that conversation, shrugging nonchalantly while Jungkook nibbles on his bottom lip. 
Fuck! This is not like him. 
It's already enough his friends share an amused look, one he definitely notices and finds really offending. They find this entire thing very amusing while Jungkook is having a midlife crisis. 
“Okay, maybe forget about the flowers. What does she like?”
“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowns.
Yoongi rolls his eyes, “What things does she like to do? Does she like to eat? Likes to watch movies?”
Jungkook's a little taken back by those questions, a clueless expression clouding his face while Taehyung snorts in the background. He's too busy trying to think of a proper answer to glare at him in return. 
“I–I don't know,” he admits.
“You don't know?” Yoongi deadpans, “Come on dude, you gotta know something.”
“I don't know!” he exclaims in distress, causing Ruda to babble as if to remind him she's there. He shoots her an apologetic look, looking back at Yoongi. “We never really discussed that kind of stuff. We fucked. That's what she likes for sure.”
“Should you talk like that in front of the baby?” Taehyung points out, met with another glare that shuts him up. 
Ruda is too young to understand. He'll take care of his bad mouth by the time she understands, he naively thinks to himself.
“Then just fuck her.” 
Jungkook stares dumbfoundedly at his friend and his stupid idea. “Seriously? I'm supposed to take her on a date. Beats the whole purpose of it if I just fuck her instead.”
“Look at him, so much progress.” Taehyung mutters amusingly, causing Jungkook to grab one of Ruda's plushies and throw it aggressively at Taehyung's head. 
“Then just take her somewhere and fuck her after. If the date is awful, at least she gets her world rocked.”
They both start to laugh while Jungkook whines loudly, a groan following right after. “You guys are fucking with me. Literally, you're no help.”
“JK, we can't exactly help you when you have no idea what she likes. Maybe you should find out first and then think of something?”
“Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?” Jungkook mocks, doing a little stance with his arms while Ruda is in his hold. “Very smart, Yoongi. I don't want to make it seem as if I don't know what I'm doing.”
“What's so wrong about that?” Taehyung questions, “You just ask her what she prefers and it'll be easier to plan something.”
“Yeah, he's right.”
Jungkook sighs, pinching his brows. Ruda starts to fidget in his hold, causing him to sit down in a chair. He hands her one of her rattles as she starts to wildly shake it in her tiny hands. 
“Won't I look pathetic if I just asked her?”
“You literally look pathetic right now.”
“Taehyung, God help me–”
“Just ask her.” He cuts him off. 
Somehow, he made it sound easier than the thought of it is. 
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The next time you see Jungkook is when you bring him the dinner you cooked. You haven't had that much time to see each other, with you working and his sleeping schedule all over the place, you had to settle with a message for the time being. It hasn't been that long, only like three days since he asked you on a date.
You're not going to lie, you feel a little giddy thinking of it. It's weird because you can't imagine the famous Jeon Jungkook on a date. If someone mentioned the words date and Jungkook in the same sentence, you would laugh them off. But now that it involves you, you find it almost flattering. He's taking you on a date. 
You. 
And no one else. 
You want to devilishly cackle at all those bitches that got to fuck him, wanted something more with him. Realizing that's kind of evil, you humble yourself because nothing's sure yet. 
Since this is very new to not only you but Jungkook as well, it's hard to have any say when it comes to the future. You're trying to prepare yourself for any outcomes but it's tough. Tougher than you think it would be. The idea of this failing makes you weirdly sad and you can't stand it.
However the sight in front of you completely brings you to other thoughts. You've never been someone who would thirst over dads. The whole DILF thing discussed between women was a pure fantasy, something they would romanize or even sexualize. Not that you were purely against it. Are women who find young dads hot that bad? 
The potential man would have to be hot in order to find them being a young dad hot. Some men just have that spark. And you've never really met one even remotely close to Jungkook.
And there he is. 
He opens his front door, hair slightly raffled and messy, as if he hasn't brushed it the entire day. He has one of his oversized gray shirts on, a map of spit or whatever that is decorating the thin material. He has a baby cloth draped over his shoulder, momentarily widening his eyes at the sight of you. 
Then realization hits him and he steals a glance at the watch around his wrist. He forgot you were supposed to drop in for dinner. 
Other than he looks fucking hot, even in his messy state, you also find him adorable how he stares at you with big doe eyes before he ushers you to come inside. 
“Where's my favorite baby?” you ask excitedly, keeping your tone down just in case she's sleeping. It's awfully quiet in Jungkook's apartment. 
“You make it sound as if you knew dozens of them.”
You give him a look, hearing him chuckling as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Rude.”
“She's sleeping,” he answers instead, but a cocky grin is attached to his moisturized lips. “She's been a little cranky this night,” He lets out a yawn. “Barely got any sleep.”
You pout at the thought of it. “You should've told me. We could switch or something.”
He stares at you dumbfounded as if you just came up with the craziest idea. Perhaps it is one. 
“You have a job, Y/N. I can't let you have a sleepless night.”
He has a point. Even if you were willing to spend a sleepless night helping him, you wouldn't really help much since you have to wake up early in the morning. You can't babysit during the day, unless it's the weekend. And babysitting during the night so Jungkook can sleep, even if for a few hours would cause you to look like a zombie the next morning.
You love your sleep. But you're willing to give it away for Ruda. And Jungkook. 
Jungkook ends that particular topic, leading you further down his apartment and to his kitchen where you place the containers. “It's tomato sauce pasta with chicken and basil. Not exactly a trophy winning menu but I tried to cook something quickly.”
“Fuck, I'm so hungry,” Jungkook whines, opening the container as he inhales the scent, a steam coming off it since you just finished cooking. “Thank you. It smells amazing.”
“No worries, I told you I wanna help in any way I can.” you assure him. 
He motions for you to sit down, already pulling out a glass for you where he pours you an apple juice. “Have you eaten?” he asks, already digging his fork into pasta.
“It's hot, be careful,” you warn him, even though the steam itself is enough of an indicator that it's indeed very hot. But Jungkook looks as if he's ready to swallow the entire thing with no thoughts. “And no. I came directly here but no worries, I will eat when I come home.”
“Nonsense,” Jungkook waves you off. You watch him stand up and before you can complain, he pulls out a plate for you and opens the other container you had prepared for him for tomorrow. “Here, let's eat together.”
“Jungkook–I have my food at home, I just came here to drop this–”
“Stay for a while.” he says simply, looking too irresistible and straight into your eyes for you to object. 
“Okay.”
You dig into the food, not realizing how hungry you've become once again. Your entire apartment smells like tomato sauce, garlic and basil. You hope by the time you come there, the opened windows did their job because you would hate to sleep in a smelly apartment. 
When you were cooking, you inhaled the smell a lot so naturally, you didn't feel as hungry anymore but now the hunger comes back. Without any argument, you both eat in silence while trying to talk about your days. 
You and Jungkook haven't really talked that much before. You both know what you spent most of the time doing. That's changing and it is a pleasant change.
It does feel slightly odd to be talking about casual stuff like your work. But once Jungkook takes over and talks you through their day. He's got a lot on his plate. He has a baby for fuck sake. He looks exhausted, yet his eyes are sparkling and he doesn't make it sound as if he's complaining. He informs you, even laughs at Ruda's cranky mood and what work she makes him go through. 
You're done and Jungkook takes it upon himself to clean the dishes and give you back your food containers, even though you told him it can wait. He protests and while he just as much protests with you cleaning the mess in his living room, you do it anyway.
There are toys and a few dirty and empty bottles laying around. There's not that much of a mess and it's done shortly after Jungkook finishes dishes.
You both decide to hang out for a while before you have to get home, take a shower and prepare yourself for the night. 
“Hey, I meant to ask you about something…”
Jungkook starts unsurely, arm outstretched behind your seat on his couch as you're cuddled to his side. You could fall asleep like this.
“It's about our date.”
You pull away slightly to look at his face, “Are you backing down from it?” you muse, watching the way his face turns into panic and that alone tells you that's far from the truth. It's enough to let you relax as you giggle.
“No!”
“Then what is it?” you ask, cuddling back but in a position where you still can see him. 
“What do you like to do?” he asks, a little awkward as he scratches the back of his head. “It sounds fucking stupid but I was wondering where to take you and I realized–we never talked about this stuff. And I–” Don't want to mess up. He doesn't finish.
Something warm collects in your chest and you try to hide a smile, not wanting him to feel as if you're finding him amusing or anything of that sort. Actually, you find him endearing. He's showing you a side of himself that you've never seen before.
“Whatever you plan, I'm sure I'll enjoy it.” You settle on saying, not having anything particular in mind which is not a help at all. 
“Come on!” Jungkook whines, “I'm trying here. I've never done this shit before.”
“Did you just call our date a shit?” you tease him, watching him open his mouth before he closes it and glares at you.
“I didn't mean it like that.”
“I know, I just love teasing you,” you muse, met with another glare which causes you to giggle silently. “I've never seen you like this. I'm quite enjoying it.”
“Yeah, make fun of me.” he scoffs a little.
Realizing this might not be just as fun and humorous as you make it seem to be, you also realize this must be important to him in a way. Your smile drops and you sit up, watching him slide his arm off the couch and into his lap. He stares there thoughtfully, avoiding your gaze.
“I'm sorry, I didn't think you would worry about it this much,” you tell him gently, “Depends on what time we would go on a date.”
“I called my mom and she can babysit until 9PM. She has to go back home after that.”
“Hm, okay. And what time are we meeting?”
“I thought maybe around… four?” he says, stealing a glance at you as your purse your lips in thought.
“How about we eat somewhere nice–nothing fancy!” you warn him, not really sure if he's the type to go all out since he has never done this before. 
But still, you want to make sure he doesn't spend a fortune on a single date. Plus, you would like to pay too. Not because he has a baby and other expenses, but because you're independent. You don't need a man to pay for everything.
Maybe eventually it would be nice to get spoiled a little. But at the moment, you can't imagine it. It wouldn't seem fair considering what a position he's in now. There's a little human here that needs more of everything than you do.
It's not something you've had to come to terms with, you've understood it from the beginning. Jungkook is a dad now. And it has a certain baggage with it. 
“And then we could do something–I don't know. Maybe we could think about it after? To see what we're in the mood for.”
“You sure you'll be okay with it?” he asks unsure.
He's met with a confusion as you pull back and say; “Why wouldn't I be? I just suggested it.” you giggle.
“Just askin'. I've never done this before.”
“So you said.” you tell him, standing up. “I would go and check Ruda but I don't want to wake her up. So kiss her for me, okay?” 
Jungkook looks like he's ready to protest, perhaps telling you to stay a little longer or even night, knowing it might be too soon for you. Once he checks the time, he remains quiet and the pout is the only thing visible on his face. 
You lean down, kissing him on his cheek. “Don't worry about the date too much, okay?”
He hums, though keeps his pessimism to himself. You wave at him for the last time and it's until he hears a soft click that he's once again alone with his daughter. The one that announces herself shortly after you leave. A loud sigh leaving his mouth as he stands up and goes to check on her. 
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“What do you mean you can't come?” Jungkook shrieks, so out of his character that even his mother on the other line stays silent for a second.
“I'm sorry, Jungkookie. They canceled all train connections because of an accident.”
“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing his mother scolding him but he pays her zero attention. “Can you grab a taxi or something? I'll pay for it.”
It's out of his budget but he's desperate. 
“No, it's too expensive plus I wouldn't be able to make it in time. You know how it is here. It's hard to find a taxi.”
He groans, rubbing his face frustratedly as he stares out of the window. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
He had it all planned. Even though you talked about getting food, he thought a lot – embarrassed to say – he even googled a few spots that were recommended around here. He would let you choose and maybe you would be able to visit them all within five hours that you would have for yourselves. 
But now everything's out of the window. 
“I could come tomorrow?” She tries to help, but Jungkook shakes his head.
You can't tomorrow. There's some kind of family party you need to attend. 
“No, it's fine, mom. I'll call you later.”
“I really am sorry, Jungkookie.”
He starts to think of every single thing that he knows. Every person gets on his mind and he wonders if he should call them. In a moment of realization and reality hitting back to him, he realizes he can't just call anyone to watch over his daughter. He sits down in disappointment, realizing how selfish that would be of him. 
He can't call Yoongi or Taehyung. They would not be able to take care of her and he would spend the entire date worrying, probably leaving to check on her. That's completely out of the question. None of his other friends, that probably fuck around as we're speaking would be able to help him.
None of his family members are around. Plus, they still haven't met Ruda – most of them – for some reason he thinks it's too early. He's still in a stage of trying to figure out to be a father. 
It's only his luck that his mom calls him from the train station, having no other way to come here. Just because some dumb fuck decided to jump in front of the train. 
He stops.
Fuck, he really is selfish.
He takes it back immediately, having more compassion now than ever since he has a whole baby to raise and take care of. 
You're supposed to be here any minute. He had it all planned. 
His mom should've been here soon, he would briefly talk her through Ruda's routine. He trusts her. She raised him and could surely take care of a baby. Plus, Ruda's sleep is better these days and she's too little to make a fuss about her dad not being here. 
When a knock resounds on his door, his entire stomach churns and he prepares himself for the disappointment that he seems to be. It's even worse when he opens the front door and you stand there, fully prepared in a short dress. Your hair is neat and nicely done, so is your make-up. Not that you aren't pretty either way, but he can definitely tell the extra effort you've put into yourself. 
It truly makes him feel like the biggest asshole. 
You smile, telling him something but he can't hear. He just stares, both out of awe and then frustration when he realizes what he's about to tell you. 
“What's wrong?” Your smile drops, making a note of his weird expression of pure sadness. 
“We can't go on a date,” He forces the words out of his mouth.
It's weird how his heart drops when you suddenly grab the strap of your bag, looking as if you're shielding yourself from him. 
“It's–My mom just called and she can't get on the train.”
“Oh,” you let out. “That sucks.”
“Yeah, um–come inside.” he says, gently grabbing your wrist as he pulls you inside. He doesn't need any nosy neighbors witnessing this very uncomfortable and awkward situation. 
You stand in his entry way, looking around in awkwardness as he scratches his temple.
He's obviously styled and prepared to go out. You've noticed his nice outfit right away. He's wearing black slacks with a casual white t-shirt tucked inside it. His hair is trimmed and styled back. You can smell his aftershave and hair gel along with his cologne. 
Clearly, he hasn't stood you up and what he's saying is the truth.
It's not like you doubt him but well – all of this is new and maybe it wouldn't be so out of character if Jungkook panicked and decided to make a lie to save himself. 
“I'm so sorry–I really had everything prepared for tonight. And it's completely ruined. I fucked up.”
You frown, staring at him for a second. “You didn't fuck up, Jungkook.” you tell him softly. “It's not your fault.”
“I thought of calling one of my friends, but they're not able to take care of Ruda–I can't just let them–”
Probably they wouldn't even want to babysit, now that he thinks of it.
“Jungkook, it's totally okay. I understand.”
“I can't let just anyone watch over her.”
“I understand,” you emphasize softly, smiling at him. “How about we take her with us?”
Jungkook's head snaps in your direction, looking at you as if you're crazy. “You wanna take a baby with us? Nothing against Ruda but–we're not gonna be able to enjoy it. She will cry eventually and I had plans–I can't possibly imagine taking her there–it's too much work.”
He panics and you need to get a hold of his shoulders to stop him.
“We don't have to take her to the restaurant or wherever you want to go,” you inform him, “We could just take her for a stroll and see from there? If she's gonna cry and be cranky, we'll just come back.”
You're not a mother yourself, but somehow you can empathize with his situation. He hasn't taken her out for too long, not onto too many public places. Until you count grocery stories and nearby parks. He's by himself most of the time. While he finally got the hang of the feeding, bath and sleeping routine, the thought of suddenly taking her there makes him unsure. Even though he knows he'll have to do it eventually. 
“Plus, I will be there. It's gonna be the two of us.” 
Something about that specific line makes him pause as he watches you. You give him a look, wondering what's the stare for but he just smiles. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you assure him. “Nothing's ruined. Plus, I think I'll prefer Ruda's company there too.”
He looks at you suspiciously, almost like he doesn't believe you. And perhaps he doesn't. But you giggle. “I'm serious. There's gonna be time to enjoy ourselves alone.”
“I–” he stops, “Wow. Okay. I'll prepare her and we can go.”
“Great,” you smile, “I'll prepare her stroller. Do you have any formula prepared?”
“Yeah, had one prepared for mom. It should still be warm.” 
You both jump into action. Jungkook takes Ruda out of her cradle that he bought for her and has its place designed in his living room. She starts to wake up, her little face twisting as you coo at her while you walk past them. You prepare the bottle and stroller, watching Jungkook put her there as you bring some extra clothes for her just in case. 
You're out of his apartment in a record time, fully prepared as you shoo Jungkook and take the stroller. He walks beside you with a teasing smile, but there's a huge relief and content behind it. 
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Jungkook's nerves are put at ease. 
Not only you but the situation proves to him that he can still go and eat out, even with a baby. Ruda has been like an angel. Once she's awake, she just stares around before she falls asleep shortly after. You feed her in a nearby park which slowly lullabies her to sleep.
After walking and getting to know each other's interests through stories, you find a nice restaurant where you can eat outside. It's not probably what Jungkook had planned but it has its own magic. 
Stroller kept next to you at all times, you fill up your stomach and even sleeping Ruda gets a few compliments along the way.
“Aw, what a cute baby! You have a very pretty baby.” The waitress tells you, beaming from a distance at sleeping Ruda, causing you both to smile.
None of you correct her. Why should you? She's a stranger and it doesn't matter what she thinks. You understand why she would think you're a family. It's a standard here. Nobody expects single dads out here. 
Well, not so single anymore. You hope.
“Thank you.” you smile at her in gratitude, eyes dropping to the sleeping angel that's next to you. Okay, maybe you appropriated Jungkook's daughter but he doesn't seem to mind. Actually, it seems like he's enjoying the sight in front of him.
“Your daughter is a star around here.” you tell Jungkook once the waitress is gone.
He chuckles, “Stealing my spotlight from birth.”
“Oh, she definitely helps you catch even more eyes.” you muse, watching him laugh in confusion. “Everyone's staring at you. All those women we walked past. They're thirsting over you.”
“Are you sure it's because of Ruda?”
You roll your eyes while grinning, “So cocky as usual.”
“What? I've always caught a female's gaze if that's what you were saying.”
“Obviously,” you roll your eyes again, “But there's something hot about a young hot dad. You're a DILF now.”
“Don't call me that.” he groans, causing you to laugh.
“Either way, it does bring you attention whether you like it or not.”
“Doesn't matter, I only like your attention,” he says. 
The two of you share a look as Jungkook cringes while laughing while you shriek in both excitement and disbelief. You probably look like a crazy couple. “That was smooth!”
He laughs, “I'm trying. I'm not romantic.”
“Are we having this conversation again?” You lift your brow. “Anyway, they can only look. You're on a date with me.”
It's a diplomatic way to say, aiming at something that hasn't been discussed yet. This is your first date after all. None of you have a certain plan. 
Yet, you're sure to admit that you don't like the attention Jungkook gets. 
“Does that make me your boyfriend?” he asks, tasting the way that words sound out of his mouth. 
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
“Hell yeah. If it means repelling all the men from you, I will be anything.”
You laugh, “You sound jealous.”
“Because I am,” he says, throwing a piece of sweet potato into his mouth. “I want you all to myself.”
“Hm, I'll think about it. Ruda has a place in my heart too.”
“I can share with her.” 
You both share a giggle together, something you've barely done before. 
“Does this make it official?” you question.
He shrugs, “If you want it to be. I know I do.”
“Me too,” you tell him giddily, sounding like an excited teenager. “I want to be your girlfriend.”
“Do people get together on a first date though?” he asks, finding you staring dumbfoundedly at him. “No, I'm serious. I really wanna know.”
You sit back, taking a sip of your drink. “Who cares? We kinda did it backwards anyway.”
“True,” Jungkook hums. “Who cares.”
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Throughout those four hours of getting to know each other more, the connection between you grew some more. You've found out about Jungkook's secret hobby which is graphic art. It kind of explains the love for his tattoos as well. He's no longer just the boy that partied and fuck his way through his years. Actually, he's not that at all.
His guilty pleasure is eating snacks in the middle of the night, though he really tries to restrict himself from doing so. It's tougher to visit a gym these days, one of his obvious hobbies that you've already known. But he talked more about that and there wasn't a minute that it felt awkward or uncomfortable.
Ruda has been a pleasant company as well, her cuteness making both of you laugh and giggle. You were kind of bonding over her as well. Until it was starting to get darker and the two of you have decided to get back. 
On your way to the apartment complex, Ruda has pooped which proved your decision to go back to be right. Jungkook invites you to his place, not too keen on ending your date just yet and you agree. Though, you have to wake up early to pack your things and get ready for your cousin's birthday party, you don't want to leave them. 
You offer to take Ruda's nappy but Jungkook refuses, thinking it might be too much to ask of you but truly, you wouldn't mind. You try to tell him that but he just shakes his head, tells you to sit down and make yourself at home.
Shortly after, he comes back informing you that Ruda fell asleep. He joins you on the couch with what sounds like an exhausted sigh. The two of you share a look, both chuckling, silently of course because there's a baby sleeping in the other room. 
“Did you like it?” 
Jungkook fills up the momentary silence, voice slightly unsure and nervous.
He glances at you sideways, quickly looking away as he clears his throat.
“The date.”
“I did,” you giggle, nodding. “I really did. Thank you, it was very lovely.”
He allows himself to smile, mentally patting himself on his back for this going so smoothly. To be honest, he expected a disaster. It began like that, so he can't be blamed for expecting it to continue. But he's pleasantly surprised. 
Too happy about today. 
He feels like a freaking teenager and he gets this weird fluttering in his stomach. Urgh! He's not sure how he feels about it because it's new.
“Though you could've let me pay at least for the botanic park–or the museum.” you tell him, giving him a dirty but teasing look. 
You've really managed to visit many places Jungkook prepared for you. At first – which you're clueless about – he wasn't sure how to feel about it because he never went to a freaking museum. Maybe when he was on a school trip. It was totally involuntary, of course. But he caught himself enjoying it – and maybe it was because you were there – but he realized he doesn't mind enjoying himself, knowing it's because of you that he was able to. 
“No can do.” Jungkook shakes his head, teasing you some more which makes you groan. 
“I will pay next time.”
“Next time?” he teases, wiggling his brow.
“Aren't we dating now? It's what couples do, going on dates–”
“We are,” he hums. “What else do they do?”
You smirk, inching closer to him as you cuddle up to his side. He welcomes your touch, throwing his arm around you as he pulls you even closer while he doesn't take his eyes off you.
“They kiss,” you whisper, noses bumping into each other as you let your lips linger over his. Not quite kissing him but then it's too irresistible, he is, that in the end you press a soft kiss on his lips.
“They cuddle,” you continue, “Fuck.”
Jungkook chokes on his spit, “Don't say it like that.”
“Is Jeon Jungkook getting shy?” you tease, kissing his jaw. “You know a lot about fucking.”
“I–fuck–I do,” he agrees, voice sounding almost choked up. He tries to concentrate badly, he really does, but you're making it too hard when your kisses trail down his neck, making more parts of his body alive. “It just makes me–”
“What? Horny?” you tease and he groans.
“Well obviously,” he rolls his eyes, hands on your hips as you sit up and straddle his lap. “Wait–”
“Why?” you pause, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.
“No, wait, wait, wait–” He quickly says as if he could read your thoughts. He can surely see the starting embarrassment and the way you pull away, putting distance between you. “I really want nothing else than fuck you.”
“But?”
Jungkook presses his lips together, “I wanna take it slow. Won't it ruin if we just fuck right now?”
You give him a look, slightly caught off guard. “Why would we? We've done it before multiple times.”
“Yeah, we did but… but it was different, you know?” he says and weirdly, you do know what he means. However– “I just don't want to fuck this up.”
Your eyes soften, taking Jungkook's face into your hands as you press a soft kiss to his lips. “You won't fuck this up, Jungkook.”
“You don't know that.” He frowns.
“Well, yeah. I meant it in a more encouraging way. You're trying and I can see that. I do appreciate it.” you confess to him, silently and softly as if saying it out loud will make it embarrassing. You're a little sheepish when it comes to confessing such things. Talking deeply and emotionally with him. “I personally don't think us having sex tonight will ruin anything. But if that's what you're worried about, we don't have to. What I wanna say with this is–I respect it.”
He watches you, eyes clouded with restraint and desire. Currently having an inner battle with himself, he sighs and leans his head back.
“Plus, I think it's cute.”
“Cute?” he deadpans, moving his head down to look at you. 
“You're cute,” you admit, giggling at the look of disgust on his face. “This really means something to you.”
“Does it not to you?”
You laugh, “Of course it does.”
He smiles, pulling you closer as he's the one who kisses you now. “Fuck, you're really making this hard.”
“Not just this.” you point out, wiggling your brows at him when you shift in his lap, feeling his hardening length under you.
“Stop!” he shrieks silently in horrification.
You giggle, “We could watch a movie instead. Or talk.”
He rubs his lips together, eyes dropping low. For a moment, the two of you only stare at each other. There's desire, lust and impatience clouding the air around you, just as much as it fills your gazes. Jungkook's eyes are the first ones to drop down your lips. Staring at them painted in a nice shade that compliments your skin tone. They're moisturized and never looked so tempting. He's not sure. He can't think straight right now. 
“Fuck movie.” he pants, grabbing you by your sides and pulling you onto him. 
The kiss is no longer soft and minimal, you both practically throw at each other letting your bodies act upon their biggest temptation. The making out is messy and fast, no longer staying at that as Jungkook lays you down and starts kissing you down your neck. 
“Fuck, that feels good.” you gasp, moaning when Jungkook lowers down your dress and starts sucking the skin on top of your breasts. 
You arch into his touch and warmth, craving for every inch of him. It leads you to become even more impatient, ushering him to take off his shirt. He does and you immediately salivate at his pecs and muscles, hands trailing down his back and abs.
“Fuck, almost forgot how hot you are.” you confess. Okay, that might be a lie. It's hard not to notice how Jungkook glows with hotness, even if there are traces of exhaustion every day. 
“Oh, you forgot?” Jungkook teases, “Should remind you.”
“Mhm, you should.”
And boy, he does. 
In a split second, the dress is ripped off you and thrown somewhere on the floor, underwear followed right after. You complain about Jungkook's upper body still dressed, though there's something incredibly sexy about him wearing slacks with chest on full display. It's almost too shameful that he turns you around, getting you on all four. 
Both of you go completely feral. The position making your ass arch as Jungkook delivers a slap to it. He stops for a second though, freezes and waits for any sound coming from his bedroom. You watch him relax as he continues, a little smile playing on your lips. 
You hear him unzipping his slacks, not wanting to get the sight stolen from you so you turn around and stare at the scene in front of you across your shoulder. He smirks, noticing you watching as he reaches toward his coffee table.
Once he pulls out a foil packet, you give him a look with raised brow. “How did it get there?”
“My wallet dropped the other day and someone rang the door, I panicked and put it there.”
You laugh at his story, wondering if he's telling the truth. He looks like it though and quite frankly, you don't care. 
“Turned out to be convenient.”
“It did, thanks to whoever rang that day.”
He smiles, not elaborating any further as he takes off his remaining clothes. You hear the familiar sound of foil ripping and before you know it, Jungkook's tip pokes you at your asscheek. 
You might be already impatient enough, both of you too hungry for one another, but you also know there is no time to fool around when you now have the chance to have sex. Any second Ruda could wake up and put an end to your and Jungkook's desire. Seems like he knows it too because he gives you an apologetic look.
“It's okay, just fuck me.” you assure him with a moan, arching your back for him. 
He spits on his fingers, stretching you out with them and you sigh in content at the feeling. Giving you a few pumps to make you at least somehow prepared for him, you whine his name in ushering him and silently telling him you'll be fine.
That's all it takes for him to enter you, both of you swallowing down any set of curses and sounds. Jungkook pulls back just for him to thrust into you. He finds a perfect rhythm, rocking your bodies fast and roughly.
Jungkook growls, “Holy shit.”
He slaps your ass, trying to keep it down as you both giggle in the middle of it. It's soon cut off by his thrusts you try to meet. Giggles get switched by silent moans and pleas. Everything is heated and rushed, both of you ultimately aiming to orgasm knowing it could get interrupted any minute. Keeping that in mind, you don't hold yourself back and neither does Jungkook.
Despite your situation, he does not refrain himself a few slaps to your ass which only brings you closer to the end. 
“Jungkook–”
“Fucking hell, I wish I could hear you moaning and screaming.”
You wish you had more time, though you don't regret it happening now. You wouldn't have it any other way. Thinking that you both would have to wait for each other sounds like a proper torture. 
“You're fucking creaming my cock–fuck.” he groans silently, seeming to have as much as struggle to keep it down. 
Still, it's kind of hot to experience it. You never had to keep it down. Sure, there were many times when you specifically had sex and tried to be silent because of neighbors. With Jungkook, you never cared about neighbors before. Not that much at least.
“Fuck–I'm almost–there.”
“Come for me.” Jungkook grunts, hands gripping your ass so much that you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow.
And you do. Not even five seconds later, you bury your face into his couch and let moans disappear into its material. Jungkook follows right after you, not being able to hold it for much longer as he comes inside the condom. 
He stays inside for a moment, softening slowly as he carefully helps you to turn around. He sits back on his knees, condom soiled by your cum and juices but none of you move. 
You stare at each other, smiles coming up at the same time as you silently giggle. 
This is the best date ever.
5K notes · View notes
luveline · 3 months
Note
hi honey bun! i was just having a thought about someone coming home after a night out, a little drunk and sleepy, just crawling into bed with the reader? n maybe trying not to wake her w cuddling and such? 🥺 im so indecisive and couldn’t choose between peter or one/poly marauders, but please also feel free to disregard if it’s not the one for you! kisses xx
Sirius tries to tell them to be quiet, but James is so drunk he’s going to wake up amnesiac and Remus isn’t far behind him. Sirius has a kinder buzz, opening and then closing the door for his idiots begrudgingly. “Shush. You’ll wake her.” 
“She should be awake I miss her so much I’m gonna throw up,” James says, all in one breath. 
“That might be the Guinness,” Remus laughs. His cheeks have gone pink. Sirius thinks it’s the cutest Remus has ever looked, and he gives him an affectionate smile that’s returned tenfold. 
“Be quiet,” Sirius says. A yawn comes suddenly. “Go sit down and have some toast or something.” 
“I definitely will throw up then,” James groans, bending over in the middle of the hallway. 
Remus, despite being similarly belligerent, starts doting on him. “You okay?” he asks, bending down with a similar sigh of pain. “Come on. I’ll make you a– a glass of water.” 
Sirius has spent the night with them, so he loves them, but he misses you too much to stay. He chucks his shoes vaguely in the direction of the shelf and starts up stairs. The walls move under his hand and the bedroom door proves hard to open, but he sees you and forgets that he’s drunk. You’re laying on your side curled into a pillow, arm curled around, one leg sticking out of the quilt. 
Sirius pulls the blanket back gently, remembers he’s wearing jeans, changes out of the jeans, and slides into bed in front of you. He slowly, slowly, pulls the pillow from your arms, wrapping his arm under yours and behind your back, the other just shy of your face. Beautiful girl, he thinks, a little woozy from having suddenly changed directions. 
You mumble and hug him weakly, fingertips tickling his side. 
“For fuck’s sake!” James says somewhere downstairs. “What is this?” 
“Water, Jamie,” Remus says, quieter. “You can’t have anything else, don’t be–” A sound and a laugh. “No, kissing me won’t change my mind.” More laughing. 
Sirius tugs your hand up to smile into your palm. 
“Home?” you mumble. 
“Mm,” he hums, eyes closed and heavy but his arm awake behind your back, pulling you closer to his front. “I told them to be quiet… didn’t listen.”
“You…” you’re still stuck in the throes of sleep, and forget you’re talking. Sirius laughs a huff and you blink. “Okay?” 
“Yeah. Everything was okay. Next time I’ll stay home with you,” he promises, rubbing his nose into your cheek. 
“I liked being alone for a bit, but… missed you in the end.” 
Footsteps start up the stairs. “Sorry for waking you up,” Sirius says. 
“S’okay. Make them be nice to me.” 
That’s easy. As the door begins to open, Sirius pulls you right into his chest, as close as you can possibly be, and shushes you gently. Remus’ laughing swiftly ends, and James says, “Oh no, what’s wrong?” in his softest tone. 
James climbs over the bed still in his shoes. Remus grabs him before they can touch the sheets and takes them off, and then James crawls up behind you and hugs you, Sirius’ arms included. “Hi… my angel.” 
You ignore him with a disgruntled whine. 
“Sorry we were so loud.” 
You whine again. 
“Do you want Remus instead?” 
“No. I don’t not want Remus,” you clarify. “I’m not mad at you. Stay here.” 
Remus falls rather drunkenly in behind Sirius, forcing everyone to move over. You look for him in the tangle of arms and blankets, everyone Sirius loves rammed into one bed and exhausted. 
“Is anyone in the mood for a kiss?” James asks.
“Too tired,” you mumble. 
“Too far away. Make it up to you in the morning,” Remus says into Sirius's shoulder. Sirius is having a hard time following the conversation, distracted by the smell of your perfume and all the skin pressed to his. 
James sighs forlornly. “Fine.” A pause. “Sirius?” 
He snores. 
2K notes · View notes
Note
Toxic!Rafe and toxic!reader, where they’re fighting because he wants to go out to a strip bar with Topper and Kelce which reader hates (she thinks they encourage his bad behavior) after she told him no. so when reader goes on insta to look at Rafes story and sees he lied and went anyways after seeing a pic of him in the sniffers row at the bar, she gets all crazy and starts responding to the story with full paragraphs 😭 and so when he starts replying she blocks him mid argument, and he goes home and yells at her until they get all lovey dovey again 🥰 (sorry this is long)
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warnings: toxic relationship (?), slight humor, cussing, lying, crying, shouting, arguing, mentions of sex, a little plot twist at the end
“..i don’t know about that, man. y/n has a bitch fit everytime i go somewhere without her, i highly doubt she’d be okay with me going there of all places.” you stood outside your bedroom door, rolling your eyes at the sound of topper’s voice. “who cares what she says? she’s not your fuckin’ mommy, bro.” you suppressed a laugh, knowing rafe has called you ‘mommy’ a numerous amount of times. your boyfriend sighed, staying silent for a moment. “look, i’ll ask her alright? if she says no then i ain’t going.” you smiled to yourself, walking into the room with a fresh stack of t-shirts in your hands.
“here she is now, i’ll call you back.” you placed the folded laundry on top of the dresser. “tell the spawn of satan herself we say hello!” kelce shouted in the background. “aww is that dumb and dumber on the phone? hey, guys!” rafe shook his head, a laugh tumbling out of his throat. he hung up the call, getting up to wrap his arms around your waist. you leaned into him, breathing in his cologne as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “listen, uh, topper and kelce are inviting me out tonight, ‘wanted to know if i can join them..” you arched a brow, turning around in his hold.
“and where do y’all plan on going?” rafe cleared his throat awkwardly. “well.. you know how the guys are, they always wanna go to some new place..” he trailed off, clearly stalling as much as he could. “just say it, rafe.” he swallowed nervously. “a strip club.” suddenly his hands felt tense on your skin, and he couldn’t hold your stare. “a strip club?” you repeated, pulling away from him. “that’s cute, but no.” rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, immediately taking out his phone.
[4:30 PM] to: topper, kelce: i’m in, pick me up at nine.
“what are you doing?” you eyed him as he brought the phone up to his ear, walking around to the other side of the bed. “m’telling them i can’t go, because you’re gonna be all pissed off if i do.” you scoffed, eyeing him carefully. rafe cursed under his breath, praying to god you couldn’t tell he wasn’t actually calling anyone. “hey, bro. i can’t go, it’s a hard no.” he scratched the back of his neck. “yeah, i know. maybe another time- wait, where?” rafe stopped pacing, nodding along to his own imagination. “pizza and beer? that sounds good. nine o’clock? alright i’ll see y’all then.” he shrugged as he pretended to hang up.
“alright, no strip club, but charlie’s pizza instead, is that alright?” you nodded. “that’s fine, but you better text me.” he jumped up, pulling you into a hug that ended with you two falling in bed. “i mean it rafe, i want pizza pictures and everything!” he showered you with kisses, taking his time when he got to your lips. you two stayed like that for a few minutes, making out softly before you pulled away. “you should start getting ready before i get too horny, ‘cause then i really won’t let you go anywhere.” you ran your thumb over his bottom lip, sighing when he got up. “good call.” he laughed, getting an outfit ready for tonight.
nine o’clock rolled around faster than you wanted it to, and sure enough topper and kelce were outside honking like maniacs once they pulled up. “i love you, baby, i’m gonna text you in a bit.” you smiled, watching him holler all the way down to where topper and kelce practically tackled him. “we promise to have him home no later than one, mommy dearest!” you gave kelce the middle finger, shutting the door once rafe blew you a kiss. now that you had the house to yourself you figured you’d shower and unwind, maybe finish the book you had been reading. all was well until you glanced at the time on your phone. 10:45 PM, and still no word from rafe.
you opened instagram, spotting the green circle around your boyfriend’s profile picture, indicating he had posted on his close friends. you clicked on it, your heart dropping at the video of rafe throwing money at a stripper’s ass. “front row seats, baby!” he cheered. just as you thought it couldn’t get any worse, the next story was a photo of a blonde sitting in rafe’s lap, topless and smiling from ear to ear. “this motherfucker..” you closed the app, deciding you saw enough before opening you and rafe’s text thread on imessage.
[10:55 PM] - i don’t know what’s funnier; the fact that you had a whole conversation with yourself in front of me to make it sound like you were just getting pizza and beer with your dickhead friends, or forgetting to take me off your close friends list when you want to post yourself at some sleazy ass strip club. you’re a fucking joke.
rafe had never sobered up so fast in his life, all the blood draining from his face when he read your message. “fuck!” he cursed at himself, his head resting in his hands.
[11:10 PM] my <333: baby i promise i’ll explain everything, i’m telling the guys to take me home right now.
[11:15 PM] - there’s nothing you could say that’ll ‘explain’ what the fuck you did. you sat there in my face and kissed me and reassured me when you were getting your way all along. can you even comprehend how fucked up that is? you made me look stupid in front of your friends who already don’t like me. AND THE TOPLESS PICTURE???? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE???? if i posted a picture with my tits all in jj’s face, how would you feel? we both know he’s one phone call away if i really wanted him.
rafe’s blood was boiling after he read your message, knowing that you could leave him and have someone as desperate and lovesick as jj replace him in a heartbeat. “bro don’t sweat it, man. she’ll get over it.” topper slurred, entering figure eight again. “shut the fuck up, you don’t know the first thing about being in a relationship.” rafe shot back, clenching his fists when the message he tried to send turned green. topper didn’t respond, the rest of the ride home being dead silent.
rafe didn’t even say bye to kelce or topper when they arrived at tanneyhill, instead he rushed inside, eyes immediately falling to you resting on the couch. you were wearing your pink, fluffy robe, rollers adorning your hair while you were typing something on your ipad. “babe-” rafe shut the door, falling to his knees before you. “don’t get near me. you probably smell disgusting.” rafe’s jaw ticked, his patience already running low. “i’m so fucking sorry, y/n. i shouldn’t have lied to you, baby. i promise i’ll never do that again.” you finally looked at him, his bangs falling in his face.
“i know,” you sighed, “you don’t have to worry about me doing anything either.” you got up, attempting to walk past him before he grabbed your leg. “what are you talking about?” you knew rafe well enough to know when he was getting angry, and the way he was looking at you right now only confirmed your suspicions. “you don’t get to do what you did and think it’s all going to be fine and dandy with an apology, rafe. i’m leaving for my parents tomorrow, and don’t ask me when i’m coming back because i don’t know. i don’t think i can live with a liar.” you shoved him away, only making him grab you again, this time throwing you down on the couch.
“you don’t think you could live with a liar?” he narrowed his eyes, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “has it ever occurred to you that i wouldn’t have to lie to you if you would just not freak the fuck out everytime i want to go out and have fun?” you couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “you’re one to talk!” you screamed in his face, making him stand up. you followed suit, refusing to let him make you feel powerless. “you wanna act like you’re trapped here? fine! play the victim, but don’t forget everything you do to keep me from going out too.” you were pacing back and forth now, running your fingers through your hair.
“you literally slashed my friend’s tires to keep me from going to her birthday party, and all for what? because you found out other guys were going to be there?” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “i paid for the damages, y/n…” he groaned. “so?! it’s the principal! you do the most when it comes to me wanting to go somewhere, but me telling you not to go to a literal strip club is where you draw the line?? fuck you!” you started making your way upstairs, rafe right on your tail as you did so.
“fuck me?! i’m the one who takes care of you! there’s nothing in this world that you want and don’t have! i take you on regular vacations, i take you out damn near everyday, i keep you in all the newest shit, i pay for you and all your friend’s beauty appointments so that y’all could have a girl’s day twice a month, you just have no fucking clue!” he shouted, making you stop in your tracks. you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, breaking his heart in two.
“and what about everything i do for you?” you let out a shaky breath. “i’m what makes this house a home. i wear the clothes you want me to wear, i eat the food you want me to eat, i talk the way you want me to talk. i’m here when all else fails. i’m the one who holds you and comforts you when things get hard for you. i’m the one who makes sure you never feel alone, ‘makes sure you don’t go through anything alone. i do everything you say. on the days you work long and hard, i’m right here waiting for you with my legs open. on the days that you’re particularly tired, i’ll be on my knees, i’ll ride you and do all the work, and i’ll do everything happily because i love you.” rafe was crying with you by the time you finished speaking, both of you standing in the hallway.
“i get up at the ass crack of dawn and doll myself up everyday because i want to look good for you, i want to please you with everything i do. when we go to the country club, i speak of you in the highest regards, and i do it because i want everyone to know that i respect you. i do all of this, and i do it all without the commitment of having a fucking ring on my finger. if that doesn’t speak volumes for you, then i don’t know what does.” you walked inside your shared bedroom, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. he dropped to his knees once again, hugging your waist like you’d disappear if he let go. “we need each other. i need you.” he cried. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him up off the floor.
“i love you, y/n. please, you can’t leave.” you cupped his face. “i haven’t seen my parents in almost six months, rafe. i have to..” he nodded slowly, taking your hand in his. “then we’ll go together. ‘tell them we have a special announcement.” you watched him with a confused expression as he went to grab a small box out the bottom drawer of the bedside table. “rafe!” you gasped, hands flying up to cover your mouth. “i’ve had this for a while now, i don’t know what i was waiting for, but i want to do this now.” he opened the box, the biggest diamond you’ve ever seen lighting up your eyes.
“i know we have to work on some things, but there’s no one else i’d rather do this with.” you gazed into his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips. “okay, let’s do it.”
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beejunos · 4 days
Text
SPEAK TO ME | Alastor x f.reader
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Summary: Alastors voice turns you on. Something he loves to take advantage of.
FULL STORY!
Here we have it! The full story! 5k of pure smut. Enjoy darlings! Tags: Dom!Alastor, masturbation, oral, light bondage, fingering, dirty talk
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Attraction was a funny thing. It could never be explained, and often, it just appeared one day. Attraction could hit you like a train in the dead of night, but sometimes, it would follow you like a shadow. Whispering sweet words in your ear without making itself too known, not until it was too late, and you realised that you had stayed awake for two hours when you should have been asleep instead of thinking about what someone's hands would feel like on your skin. 
Attraction was an annoyance, but lust, its evil twin, was irrational, unpredictable, and, worst of all, it made you stupid. 
So incredibly dumb.
The lust had crept up on you like a thief in the night. Stealing your rational mind and sanity, leaving only the body to fend off the raging attraction that wanted to sink its teeth into your tender flesh. 
Having a crush on the radio demon was a poor choice and a painful one.
It began weeks ago when you first arrived at the crumbling hotel. 
Hazbin Hotel, with its rehabilitation program, had been your last resort after your landlord, who really deserved to be in Hell, kicked you out of your apartment. 
You had been tired of fending for yourself, trying to work, feed yourself and find an apartment with a landlord who wasn't a humongous creep. It seemed to be an impossible task in Hell. It wasn't until you heard one of your coworkers talk about the interview on the news with the princess of Hell that you found out about her little redemption project.
The Hazbin Hotel appeared like a lighthouse on the horizon for you, and the prospect of a warm meal and a soft bed was too enticing to pass on.
Charlie had, of course, taken you in straight away and for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally catch your breath. 
The bath you took that evening in your own bathroom, connected to your own bedroom, was heavenly. Almost sinful with how much pleasure you took from it. 
The next day had been quite overwhelming to you, to say the least. Thrown into the middle of trust exercises with people whom you had known less than 24 hours, where you had, in the span of two hours, visited a bondage club and escaped a turf war that Vaggie had thrown you into. If that was how she had learned to trust others, then maybe you weren't cut out for redemption. 
While the other hotel residents turned out to be a wonderful company, one, in particular, made your little sinner's heart skip a beat. 
Alastor, the infamous radio demon. 
He had ... not been what you had expected. 
From all the tales you'd heard of him, you expected a grotesque monster who murdered anyone who would just look at him funny. But he couldn't have been further from the image you had created of him from all the rumours. 
First of all, he was beautiful. His soft red eyes were so hypnotising that you feared you would drown in them, with a smile showing rows of sharp teeth. One thing was for sure: Hell would contort any morals and virtues you may have had, and if you had liked the idea of lovers biting your skin during intercourse before, it was now a raving obsession. An obsession that would fule you nightly fantasies for weeks and weeks. 
Sometimes, that was the only thing you could think about, his sharp teeth grazing your neck or nibbling your ear. 
Alastor was also very charming in his own way. A gentleman by hellish standards. Whenever you were going somewhere in the same direction, he would always hold up doors for you or pull out the chair for you during dinner time. Something you were highly unused to, and it had taken a long time for you not to blush whenever he did it. 
Whilst his jokes were lame at best, the conversations you would have late at night by the fireplace were your favourite time of the day. Because you loved his voice. You really loved his voice. 
There was something so bewitching with that transatlantic accent and that strange buzzing overlay to how he spoke. It made it sound like he was far away when he was, in fact, right in front of you, and the gentle buzzing had made you tremble more times than you could count.
Something that you suspected that Alastor had caught on to with how often he would appear behind you, only to put his head right beside yours and say the most innocent things that would make you react in the most sinful ways.
The day he had started to call you 'my dear' had been a day you would never forget, for you had laid awake all night imagining him whispering those exact words in your ear as you brought yourself to climax. Again, again, and again. 
You had had a tough time the day after looking him in the eyes without thinking of all the times you had desperately whispered his name into your pillow with your fingers between your legs.
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"What's this?" you asked, surprised as you sat down to eat breakfast. On the table sat a red present with a big black bow right in front of the seat you always occupied. You could recognise Rosies' gift rapping technique anywhere.
"It is a gift, my dear. Open it," answered Alastor and sat down to your right at the end of the table.
You and Alastor were always the two residents in the hotel who were awake first: You because you wanted to spend as much time as possible with the strange but charming sinner. Unfortunately, he had the habit of disappearing during the day, so you only ever had the morning and the night to talk uninterrupted with him. You also suspected that Alastor barely slept because, after your evening chats, when you went to bed, Alastor would go up to his radio tower to host his show, and you had no idea when he would end them.
You opened the gift slowly as if savouring it, trying not to get too excited about having gotten a gift from Alastor when, in reality, you just wanted to rip it open.
Inside the box was a beautiful antique radio in pristine condition. The dark wooded exterior was smooth and shiny as if someone had just polished it, and it made you almost not want to touch it in case you left fingerprints on it.
You looked up at Alastor, whose smile seemed to grow as he looked at you.
"I remember you telling me that you had never had the pleasure of hearing my radio show, and now you can listen to it whenever you want!"
At times like these, you wondered if Alastor knew of your slightly obsessive crush on him. He struck you as a man who liked to play with his food.
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The radio turned out to be a great gift that you used almost religiously. Every evening, when you were preparing to go to bed, you would turn on the radio and listen to Alastor's radio show. You would have the radio on softly in the background as you walked around your room doing your nightly routine. Sometimes, you would even invent stuff for you to do so you could stay up longer just so you could listen to his voice.
It was almost like he was in the room with you, talking just to you about anything he found interesting. On the odd occasion, Alastor would incorporate a passive-aggressive threat into the show for some poor sinner getting in his way, but that never scared you. In fact, you looked forward to those instances.
Alastors' voice would drop and get darker, reminding everyone who listened that he was still dangerous—a predator waiting to strike.
A wolf in sheep's clothing, and what a stupid sheep you were. Yearning for the wolf bite.
Halfway through your night routine, you turned on your radio at a soft, pleasant volume, and Alastor's smooth voice filled the otherwise silent room. 
"Salutations, friends and hellish residents! Tonight, we have a splendid assortment of the latest news and the best Hell has to offer in jazz, but before we chitchat about our dear city's hellish affairs, here is the newest music from Miss Jezebel and The Wicked Six!" 
Slow and sultry jazz music started to play on the radio. The woman who sang had a deep, smoky quality that was inherently sexy to you. There was just something about women who sang with deep voices that made your hips sway from side to side, effortlessly dancing across your room as you started to strip, pretending there was someone there who enjoyed the show you put on. 
You turned off all the lights except the small lamp by your bed and crawled under the thick blanket. Leaving the radio on as you made yourself comfortable, hugging one of your pillows close to you. 
The song ended, and Alastor came back. This time, he started talking about the news. Since the news sometimes made you too sad to sleep, you never really listened to what he was saying; you only listened to his voice—his tone, the cadence of his speech, and his transatlantic accent. 
You let his voice wash over you like a soothing balm to your aching body, but soon, you felt the familiar tingles run up your back. Warmth pooled low within you as you shifted in your bed, lying on your back. The desire to touch and be touched grew in you, to move, to grind, to satisfy the urge for sex. 
Closing your eyes and letting your hands wander over your body, you start by slowly dragging your fingertips over your sensitive throat, making sure that your light fingertips touch all the places that made you weak. 
Your hands travel from your throat down to your chest. Palming your breasts in your hands, you drag your nails over your sensitive nipples. Pinshin, pulling and rolling them between your fingers till they are warm and hard. 
Your senses sharpen as you start to feel more intensely, but your mind goes hazy, making it hard to think clearly. Alastors voice is but background noise now that edges you on.
One hand stays on your breast as the other journeys down, down, down and under your underwear. 
You slowly drag your finger between your lips, coating your finger in your wetness as you slowly pull it towards your clit. A breathless gasp is pulled from your mouth the first time your finger comes in contact with your sensitive clit. Slowly and with the lightest touch, you start to circle the organ, and what feels like electricity builds in your loins.
You can't help but move in your bed, legs bending and toes curling as you give yourself the pleasure that you wished Alastor would provide you. Your hand that previously played with your breast joined your other hand, and you let out a not-so-subtle moan as you pushed two fingers into you. Desperately, you curl your fingers inside you to increase the pleasure. 
You want it. You need it. Your toes curl almost painfully as Alastors name falls from your lips like a prayer. 
You're so close. So close you can see stars behind your eyes. You breathlessly chase that sweet release. Building, and building, and building. Your legs are shaking as you bite your lips. Hips lift from the mattress as you fight the urge to close your legs.
You are so, so close.
"What are you doing, my dear?" 
Cold dread crashes through your body as you rip your hands away from your body. You frantically look all over your room in the shadows. Looking for that all-knowing smile and calculating red eyes. 
His voice had been so close and clear that he had to be in your room. It had felt like he had spoken to you right beside your ear. But you were alone. No one was in your room but you. 
"Such a naughty little creature you are, my dear. So desperate to be touched." 
Goosebumps travel up your back as you slowly turn in the direction you hear his voice. On your nightstand is the radio that Alastor gave you. It is still on, but the yellow light of the display has turned red. 
Towering over you in your bed, you almost feel like he is watching you. Observing you as you lay naked before him. Your blankets were by the end of the bed as you had kicked them off a long time ago. 
"Can't even listen to me talking without having to touch yourself. My oh my, what will I ever do with such a bad little doe, hm?" 
Shaking all over, you lunged for the radio's electrical cord and jerked it out of the outlet. The radio fell silent as you collapsed in your bed. Spent, but not satisfied. However, you soon start to tremble all over again over the fact that Alastor had listened to you pleasuring yourself, and he seemed to like it.
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You would be lying if you said you had a good night's sleep after that fateful evening—or if you said you had slept at all.
You had stayed up all night replaying the previous night's events, unable to comprehend what you had been through. Had it really happened? Had Alastor really listened to you masturbate while you were moaning his name? It had almost felt like a fever dream had you not stared at the pulled-out electrical cord for the radio all morning.
The clock on your dresser kept ticking as you sat in your black dressing gown on your bed. The time was about to turn nine, and you had not stepped a foot outside of your bedroom, too scared to face the man after your night. You knew you had to leave your bedroom sooner or later, but you were waiting until you were sure that Alastor would have gone for the day to do whatever he usually did during the day. As soon as you were sure that you would not encounter him in the hallway, you would sneak out of your bedroom and go down to the kitchen to steal all the snacks you needed to survive the day cupped out in your own room, like the coward you intended to be. 
It was one thing to fantasise about Alastor naked, but it was a completely different thing to now face the possibility that maybe he would like to see you naked, too. 
Three knocks were heard from your door out of nowhere before Alastor slammed the door open and stepped in with a silver tray full of food in his band. You let out a small yelp before climbing further up into the bed to get away from the other sinner, who waltzed into your room as if he owned the place.
"My dear, what are you doing in bed at this hour? Don't you know that you've missed breakfast?" Alastor's voice was laced with a hint of amusement as if he found your predicament delightful. He walked over to the little table and armchair you had in front of the unused fireplace on the opposite wall to the bed and sat down the tray on the table before conjuring a matching armchair out of thin air. He sat down as if nothing was out of the ordinary and leaned his cane against the armrest as soft jazz music began playing.
As you sat on your bed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your underdressed state, you watched in disbelief as Alastor, seemingly unperturbed by your unease, crossed his legs and settled into your room. His casual demeanour, coupled with his humming along to the music, only served to deepen your sense of bewilderment, and you were sure that you were hallucinating. 
You must have eaten something terrible yesterday, and maybe everything you thought happened last night and now was all in your head. 
"Are you going to eat or not? Your food is getting cold, my dear." 
The look Alastor gave you from the corner of his eye told you that it was in your best interest to sit in the armchair in front of him and eat. 
You slowly left the safety of your bed and walked over to Alastor. However, the steps you took on the way were tiny, considering that your dressing gown ended in the middle of your thighs, and you didn't want to flash him accidentally. Not caring about the look you got from Alastor, you shuffled your feet across the room and sat down in the armchair, struggling as you continued to keep your legs as close together as possible. 
With shaking hands, you took the small coffee cup and were about to put it to your lips for a sip when Alastor spoke up again:
"Aren't you forgetting something, my dear?" 
The look he was giving you made shivers travel up and down your spine. Shivers dipped in fear with a hint of excitement. He had never looked at you so intensely before. 
"Thank you for bringing me breakfast," you whispered hoarsely. 
"Good girl." You almost choked on your coffee, "And you're welcome." 
You had a tough time looking into his eyes after that comment as your cheeks grew warmer and warmer. 
Without warning, Alastor began to talk about everything that needed to be done that day. Apparently, Niffty had found a cockroach infestation in the basement, and Charlie had decided they would use chemicals instead of Niffty's needle, which she liked stabbing them with. 
Alastor kept talking on and on about work and the hotel as you ate. On the outside, you kept calm as you finished the last of your breakfast, but on the inside, you wondered if he would mention what had happened yesterday. Had it even happened? 
Maybe it hadn't, and your obsessive crush had finally broken you. 
"Ah, I see that you have finished your breakfast! Well, I best be on my way!" With a snap of his finger, Alastor made the breakfast tray disappear into a red cloud. He did, however, leave the extra chair he had conjured up. 
"Could you be a doll and tell Vaggie that I'll need the documents later today and that she can leave them in the bar? I need to head out today, and I don't think I'll be back until this evening," said Alastor as he stood up, brushing invisible dust off his impeccable suit. 
"Uhm, sure. I'll do that. Just close the door when you leave, please," you answered as you looked as Alastor made way for the hallway door. He waved absentmindedly over his shoulder in affirmation of your request.
A small part of you were disappointed that this little breakfast meeting had turned out the way it had, no matter how confounding it had been. If only you could have gotten a hint from Alastor about what he was thinking and why he frankly was there.  
Maybe he had just brought you breakfast from the goodness of his heart? Or he had just missed your company that morning since you usually only got to talk uninterrupted in the morning.
You turned around to walk to the bathroom as he left your room. Letting your shoulder slump in disappointment, you wondered what you would do that day. You remembered that Charlie had mentioned that it would be nice if the hotel's garden were more well-kept but that she couldn't hire a gardener just yet. 
That could be the thing you did today. Find some gardening tools and surprise Charlie by pulling out all the weeds in the flowerbeds. 
Oh, what a joy, you thought sarcastically as you started to open the bathroom door. However, it slammed close hard in front of you as a hand shot forward and a hard chest pressed into your back. 
All around you began shadows to dance as if they were made of mist, and the air got charged with a static you were all too familiar with. The shivers came back, but your whole body shivered this time as his other hand gripped your hip, pressing you closer to him, but the only thing you could focus on was his breath fanning over your ear as he whispered:
"I will be back at eleven tonight, and when I get back, I will find you in your bed, naked, waiting on me. You are not allowed to touch yourself, and don't try to defy me, my dear, for I will know if you do." 
In a heartbeat, Alastor was gone, and your body instantly felt colder. Shaking all over, your knees finally gave away under you, and you collapsed in front of your bathroom door. 
Behind you, the radio began to play softly—the same music Alastor had played during breakfast. Looking at the blasted thing, you could see that the radio wasn't plugged in.
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The clock was about to strike a quarter to eleven, and you had been a nervous wreck for the past three hours. Time couldn't have gone by slower as you constantly turned to look at the clock hands to see how far they had moved. 
You had tried to distract yourself during the day with the gardening, but you constantly got distracted by all the fantasies you had of what Alastor would do to you. Turned out that it was really hard to work when horny. 
As you looked at the clock again, you re-adjusted in your bed for what felt like the thousandth time. 22:47. 
Ugh, this is taking forever! 
Laying down again, you looked over at the radio on your nightstand. It had been quiet since the morning, but you still waited to hear the tiniest sound from it that would indicate that Alastor was with you. But nothing came. 
You turned on your side to continue staring at the radio as you took one of your pillows and pressed it against you. The air in your room was cold against your skin, yet you ignored your chilled skin, for the mere thought of what would happen tonight warmed you from the inside out. 
The benefit of laying on your side was that you now could feel the slickness between your legs, coating almost all of the insides of your thighs. You knew that Alastor had said that you were not allowed to touch yourself, but he had never specified in what way you could not touch yourself, and if you didn't get some of your release soon, you felt like you would spontaneously ignite.   
Slowly, you started to press your legs together as you rubbed them against each other. Sweet pressure was building up the pleasure within you as you pressed your face into the pillow. Harder and harder, you tried to push your legs together, increasing the pleasure you had longed for all of them. 
Close, you were so close, and the excitement of defying Alastor just heightened the experience. 
You only needed one more push until you would fall over the edge into sweet release, but it never came as something grabbed onto your ankles and roughly pulled your legs apart. 
"I must say, I am really disappointed in you, my dear." 
From the shadows stepped Alastor out and looked down at you from the end of the bed, but what scared you the most was that he was not smiling. 
Looking down at you from heavily hooded eyes, Alastor dragged your body further down the bed, keeping your legs spread out with the help of his shadow tentacles. 
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it," you pleaded, hoping he would show you mercy, but from the looks of it, you would not be shown any. 
"Don't lie to me. You know very well what you did." With a snap of his finger, the armchair Alastor had conjured earlier that day dragged across the floor and stopped behind him. He sat down and made himself comfortable, looking over at you as he had a full view of between your legs.
"Now, darling, since you didn't listen to me, there will be consequences," said Alastor, crossing his legs and leaning his head in his hand lazily. You pressed up on your elbows to look over at him, and while his body language did not look interested, his eyes were sharp, focusing on your wetness that glistened in the light from the chandelier.
"One, you are not allowed to touch me." 
"What?!" you cried, the fear that you had ruined your only chance with Alastor burning within you like a forest fire. 
"Silence." You instantly shut your mouth as static filled the air and prickled your skin. Alastor's antlers had grown in size. He sighed and continued when he was sure that you would not say one more word.
"As I was saying, you are not allowed to touch me, but I can touch you however I want. If you wish me to stop, you will simply say television. Understod?" 
"Yes."
"Yes, and?" 
"Yes, sir?" You weren't sure what Alastor wanted to hear, but from the smirk that started growing on his lisp, you were sure that you had said the right thing. 
"What a good little doe you are, my dear." Whilst you were sure that was said condescendingly, you could not help the pride that grew in you that he thought you were good for him. A small yelp was pulled from your lips as you felt Alastors tentacles start to massage their way up your legs.
"You seemed to like my voice so much, my dear, that I thought you must love it if I command you as well. Isn't that what you want? For me to tell you exactly what to do to you and how to do it? Wouldn't you like to put on a show for me, darling?" 
Your brain was short-circuiting as you could not get a single word out. The only thing you could do was nod enthusiastically as Alastor's shadow tentacles gently began to play with your lips between your legs without touching your clit.
"Lovely." said Alastor, now giving you his trademark smile, "Why don't you show me how you touched yourself yesterday? I could hear those delicious sounds you made, my dear, and I want to hear them live."
And so, with shaking hands, you began massaging and caressing your body, making sure that you touched every part of your body that made you sing in pleasure. You wanted to put on a show, but you were so eager, so impatient as you played with your body that you could not bear the thought of prolonging this torture. 
You needed to be touched, and you needed it now. 
Dipping your hand between your legs, you could feel Alastors tentacles pull away from your genitals but keep a firm grip on your thighs. The first time you touched your clit was electric, as you made sure to look Alastor deep in the eyes when you did it. A soft moan from you filled the air.
Rolling the tip of your finger lazily against your clit you looked on with great satisfaction as Alastors eyes dropped from your down to your finger between your legs.
"Drag your fingers between your lips, darling, but before you do, circle your opening. Slowly without pushing in," commanded Alastor, and if you weren't delusional, you thought you heard the desperation in his voice, but his face gave nothing away. He readjusted in the chair by uncrossing his legs, giving you a full view of his hard cock in his pants. 
Never had you been filled with the need to fall on your knees and suck someone's cuck as if it was what you were created to do as you did now. You licked your lips and whined loudly as you circled the opening to your vagina with your finger, wishing it was Alastors finger or tongue that did it instead.
After circling for some time, you pulled your finger through your lips up to your clit and began touching your clit again. This time, with additional wetness, you let all the sounds you wished to make leave your mouth as you quickened the speed of your finger. 
"That's it, darling, you are doing so well." Whispered Alastor as he leaned forward in his chair, "When you feel like you're about to cum, remove your finger immediately."
The demand almost made you want to cry, but from the look Alastor was giving you, you did not want to challenge him. Savouring the feeling of your fingers a few seconds more before you removed your fingers from your clit that begged your release. The orgasm that had been at the tip of your fingers slowly fizzled out as you started to calm down. 
You looked at Alastor, who had moved from his chair to sit on the bed by your feet, waiting for his following instructions. 
"What a treasure you are, darling. So willing, so needy."
Alastor lifted his hand and, with the back of his fingers, caressed the inside of your thigh. The touch was so charged that it felt like you could cum from that mere touch alone. As your leg twitched from his touch, Alastor's tentacle tightened around your leg, pulling you closer to him. Your breath got stuck in your throat as you watched Alastor climb onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs.
"How long have you dreamt of this? How long have you been mine without me knowing it?" The look in Alastor's eyes grew increasingly intense as he leaned over you, looking down at you with an almost mad look in his red eyes. Out of nowhere, Alastor pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them, making your hips lift from the bed involuntarily at the pleasure. 
"How long, my dear? Answer me," he growled as his antlers grew. You could barely breathe as he continued to curl his finger repeatedly inside you, hitting the spot that made your toes curl. 
"Since... since I first met you!" you cried as your breathing quickened. Above you, Alastor chuckled darkly as he put his free hand on your left thigh. 
"So long. We have much time to catch up to, don't we, dear?" 
You could barely comprehend a single word that left his sinful mouth as you neared the orgasm you desperately wanted. And had you not made the mistake you would have made, you would have cum on Alastors finger. 
In your lustful haze, you placed your hand on Alastors arm, holding your thigh. Instantly, Alastor recoiled from you, and the second orgasms you had almost tipped over were ripped from you. 
"What did I say about not touching me?" 
Two new tentacles came out of nowhere and wrapped around your arms, pulling them above your head. 
As you begged and pleaded for forgiveness, the weight of your desperation was palpable. You implored Alastor not to leave you like this with every fibre of your being. The thought of losing him now was unbearable, and you knew that if he did leave, it would be the end of you.
Your legs shook from the strain of being in the same position for so long. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. You were overwhelmed with emotion, your heart aching with the fear and uncertainty of what would happen next. The tension in the air was unmistakable, and you held your breath, waiting for Alastor's response.
But he only looked at you from under heavy lids. Slowly, he lifted his hand that had fingered you and licked the wetness that was still on it. 
"If you think I would leave you now, my dear, you are indeed mistaken. You are mine now, and I will do with you as I please." Grabbing both of your legs under your knees, Alastor pulled you towards him before bending you backwards so your toes almost touched the bed beside your hands. He stared deep into your eyes as he put his tongue against you and licked you from your vaginas opening up to your clit. The sound you made had been ungodly and would have been a miracle if no one else in the hotel had heard you. 
Alastor quickly started to suck and lick your clit as your legs began to shake. You could feel the sinner's claws dug into your flesh as he grew increasingly frantic in his administration, acting almost like someone who had just been presented with a glass of water after 12 days in the desert. 
Pressure built up within you for the third time, this time stronger and more intense than the previous ones. Closer and closer, he took you to the edge you wished to fall from. 
Shaking, twisting, and pulling against your restraint, you let Alastors name fall from your lips loudly as you looked at him, giving you pleasure. Blood was dripping down from your thighs where his claws had dug into your skin, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the sweet release that you begging for. 
"Close, Alastor, I'm so close," the words tumbled out of you in a whisper as you looked on as the man licked your clit with the tip of his tongue. The only thing Alastor did was briefly look up at you as he continued to give you pleasure. 
Closer, closer, and then you fell. 
The orgasm ripped through your body like a tidal wave, making your thighs tremble uncontrollably. Your toes curled almost painfully as you threw your head back in ecstasy.
You had no idea when Alastor had put your legs back down, but suddenly, when you came to it, he was sitting by your head, gently brushing your hair from your sweaty forehead. 
"What a good little doe you were for me, my love." 
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Thank you for reading my little story! I hope you like it!
Taglist: @mossingvines @kitty-kei @chibistar45
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marcsburnerphone · 3 months
Text
And they were roomates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (very minimal), injury(very minimal), john not knowing how to handle certain situation.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3!! - part 4
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That's when it started, the weird energy that set the scene for every interaction between the two of you. He couldn't help but start to see this so-called “tension” gaz had mentioned fulfill its way into your lives. Not only was it your beauty, it was the domesticity that settled in your relationship. You need that lightbulb in your room replaced, you politely knocked on his door, car troubles? Yeah John should know how to do that. But what scared him the most wasn't the attraction he felt towards you, it was your lack thereof. He never seemed to catch you sparing him any extra glances than were necessary. Unlike him he couldn't help but catch his greedy eyes secretly soaking in every inch of you when given the opportunity. 
But he couldn't be further than wrong 
Because at the opposite end of your home your mind seems to be obsessed with the thought of john. What a man he was. He must’ve been getting some back on base and you couldn't even be jealous, aroused though definitely. He's actually all 6 foot something of fine, absolutely climbable. But god does that man often look like he wants not a thing to do with you. Especially most recently you rarely even see him and when you do he barely speaks or spares you a glance.
—-----------------
“Hey, haven't seen you in awhile.” you surprise him extremely early in the kitchen one morning.
“Oh um good morning, I’m fine just been a bit busy. Why are you up so early?” He lies then quickly changes the topic knowing being awake during these hours of the morning  isn’t your forte.
“Scheduled a client for 6AM instead of 6PM and it's too late to cancel.'' He hums in response, willing himself to say something more but his mind comes up blank as it often does in your presence. 
So he leaves without a word and nothing in hand he just leaves. And you stand there absolutely thrown through the loop at the moment that you two just shared. 
—--------------
“We were doing great as roommates. You know I was comfortable and he seemed comfortable but now I swear that man avoids me like the plague.” you say to the longtime client in your chair.
“Maybe he’s just not social.” She chimes in, you concentrate while trying to part her hair before replying.
“I could see that being the case if he hadn’t been so social the previous two weeks you know, we’ve made meals in the kitchen together, watched television in the living room so I don’t understand what changed.” you say applying product to the sectioned hair.
“What if he doesn’t like you?” your hands pause for a second as you ponder the thought.
“Well I guess he doesn’t have to like me to live with me.” you say with very visibly discontent.
“But you on the other hand strive when people like you.” she replies, reading right through you.
“Well yeah I think anybody would.” you shrug.
“Not a military man who’s probably widely hated.” She's always right and you hate it.
“What's not to like about me?” you genuinely couldn't come up with an answer yourself.
“Are you a messy roommate or do you bother him a lot or do you nag him for his mess?” You can’t think of doing any of those but maybe asking for his help from time to time.
“I might be bothering him but nothing I would consider too much , just some help from time to time.” she laughs from her seat and you unenthusiastically spin the chair she's in to face you.
“Was it in the contract that he'd have to help you from ‘time to time’.'' You give her a quizzical look and she just continues.
“Men like to do the bare minimum and that's it. They hate being bothered. Take it from me. I'm married with three sons and they're all the same. Oh they have to do the dishes, sure, but will they dry them, or put them away? No, because that's not what I asked.” you hum understanding her point but still finding it hard to see john really feeling that way.
“So then I shouldn't ask him for anything and maybe he'll come around?” you ask in an unsure tone.
“yup.” she replies blunt, fast and very sure of herself.
—-----------
So you listened, this whole week you've not asked John for a thing which was pretty easy up until now. Your luck never fails to run out at the worst times. A flat tire in the middle of the road on your way home. You pull off to the side contemplating what to do as the sun is beginning to set and there's really only two options.
One, call John and ruin your streak of leaving him be. Two, call the car service company and pay their ridiculous prices to change the tire out. Of course you go with option two cause calling john seems to make you more nervous.
It takes 3 hours for the mechanic to get to where you are, change the tire, and point out other imperfections about your car that you pay no mind to. When you finally make it home you’re bothered, exhausted and broke.
John doesn't miss the unusualness of your late arrival but also doesn't question it, even though he wants to. Your groans of frustration echo through the hallway and he immediately can tell it was a bad day.
You change out of your work clothes and go into the kitchen for a snack as you do your daily phone call to your sister to tell her about the events of your day. John creeks his office door open to hear a little better but nothing noticeable. 
“He charged me six hundred dollars, I mean how is that even legal?” You complain into the phone that’s balanced between your neck and shoulder. 
“It was just my tire that was flat, nothing else.” you follow up while chewing on an apple. You swear you could cry by repeating that monstrosity.
John can't help but feel a bit confused and upset that you hadn't just called him instead of calling whatever dick that charged you that much for something so simple. Changing a tire is an easy 30 minutes that he definitely had on his hands especially for you. You had not hesitated asking for help before so what's changed now?
—-------------
“Okay, unscrew the old bulb and screw in the new bulb, very simple.” you reassure yourself as you stand on top of the tall ladder to replace the porch light. It’s icy outside and cold sweeps under your layers of clothes making your normally shaky hands shakier.
“Okay okay- damn it.” You drop the bulb that burnt out onto the floor watching the glass scatter.
You screw the new one in and step down, closing the latter with frustrated groan, then going to pick up the bigger shards to toss out before sweeping. You should’ve known that bulb glass was insanely thin and sharp but sometimes your brain leaves out the important stuff.
“Ow, fuck fuck fuck.” You cry out at the shard of glass that forms a long clean cut on your palm. You cry as you run into your home holding the cut tightly. Finding the sink you turn the water on and rinse it clean. Your ears don’t comprehend the loud footsteps that make their way towards the kitchen.
“What happened?” A deep voice sighs out behind you.
“Nothing.” Your hiccups escape involuntarily as it continues to bleed dramatically. You squeeze your eyes shut as it begins to burn more and more.
“Let me see.” He tries to grab at your hand genuinely concerned.
“I’m fine, it’s just a cut.” You resist him by keeping your hand under the water.
“Cut from what?” he's a bit frustrated at your refusal of letting his trained mind and hands help.
“I was changing the light bulb outside and one broke.” you admit quietly.
“Why didn’t you ask me to do it?” once again what is with you no longer asking him for his very available help.
“Cause I can handle myself John.” You’re irritated at the obvious evidence that you cannot. Your non wounded hand rips a paper towel from the roll and you hold it to the cut to go bandage it in your room. 
You leave John standing in the kitchen and don’t even look back as you make your way to your room. He stays in that same spot for a second wondering where your random change in attitude is coming from but in the end he comes up blank and goes out to the porch to clean the rest of the glass up.
—----------
You feel terribly guilty when you wake up the next morning to see the porch swept clean and ladder put away from the previous night. You toughen up and put your big girl pants on to go apologize. You knock on his bedroom door and hear ruffling on the other side before he answers.
“hey john i'm really sorry for-” you stop noticing him dressed from head to toe in his military attire and damn.
“For what?” He takes notice of your pause and one up.
“For um the way I acted last night I know you were only trying to help and um why are you dressed like that?” You can’t help but question it.
“I have to go on base for a little bit, maybe a day or two. It shouldn't be too long but who knows, let me grab my check for you.” He walks back into his awfully clean room and grabs something out of a drawer and hands you a white envelope that consists of his monthly rent.
“Oh okay.” You can’t even hide the blush that laces between your features and although he notices it he can’t pinpoint the reasoning.
“Also don’t be sorry we all have our days and I shouldn’t have overstepped.” You nod in response not really knowing what to say. 
“Okay bye then I guess.” You awkwardly wave at him even though you stand mere inches away from his tall frame. 
“Bye doll.” He says before you walk away entirely thrown over whatever conversation that was.
----------------------
comments and reposts and appreicated <3
thankyou for all the love on this story so far.
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vroomvroomcircuit · 1 month
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You pulling in made me wish your Dad pulled out
(A/N): Thank you to @foreveralbon for workshopping this fic with me with this prompt. I don't know what to do if you weren't my muse.
Summary: Charles pissed off his neighbor with his parking. Her answers are notes taped to his car window. How can evolve more out of that?
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader
Wordcount: 1.6k
🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________
(Y/N) knows that she isn’t the most professional car parker. She should never start a career as a valet for sure. After all, she needed a second attempt on her own practical test to attain her drivers license.
But there is this one neighbor of hers. She doesn’t know what he looks like, what his name is or where he even lives. But (Y/N) knows one thing for sure: He is a shit parker.
Like, he is the worst person at parking that has ever walked the world. If he could, he probably would park his oh so expensive car onto other cars. But she tries to not let that get too close to her. After all, we just talk about parking spaces and it’s not worth getting her blood pressure up over it.
But (Y/N) found her tipping point.
Her whole morning has been a shit show. Her alarm went off, but she accidentally turned it off instead of giving herself another five minutes of sleep. Five minutes turned into 45. That meant the young woman had to rush through her usual morning routine and she is 90 % sure that she put at least one clothing item on the wrong way.
But it’s ok, she is still on time. She just needs to get out of the car par-
This is where (Y/N) last thread of patience with that neighbor snaps in two like a potato chip, crisp and unclean. This person parked the front half of his car in a way that completely blocks (Y/N)’s rear end from exiting the car in a way that does not hinder the sidewalk.
It takes a solid seven minutes to get out of her spot, trying not to scratch hers or another car. Arriving a few minutes late at work because of that and receiving a reprimand from her boss is really the young woman’s last straw. On her lunch break she does some snooping on the internet and comes across a really fine find. It’s worth the price and shipping cost to her.
Actually, she can’t wait for the week it is supposed to take to arrive at her doorstep.
But the time between that particular day and the day of arrival do fly by when you use it getting madder and madder at the dickhead that is unable to park like a normal person.
The next occurrence doesn’t take long after (Y/N)’s package finally arrives. She wanted to park her vehicle in her usual spot when Mr. Ferrari already took his and her own too. How can one person be such an asshole?
(Y/N) takes one of the business card sized cuts out of her glove box and puts it in the slit of the black car’s window. Satisfied with her work she steps back into her vehicle and looks for a different spot, ending up walking several minutes back to her apartment building, having to look somewhere farther away.
Charles can see from a distance that there is a card at his car’s windowshield. Which makes him suspicious. Surely no one thinks that he wants to sell his car for cheap, so it can’t be one of those car handler’s business cards. Maybe it’s a new ruse of thieves, trying to get him to stand long enough at his car to read it and be able to steal his car. Or they are kidnappers. Anyways, he makes quick work of putting the card into his pocket and drives off at a neck breaking speed.
When he arrives at his destination, the Monegasque pulls the piece of paper out and reads it. “The way you pulled in makes me wish your dad pulled out”, he reads aloud, laughing a little to himself.
He has to admit that he might not be the best at parking. Who is he even kidding, he would win the world championship at being the worst car parker possible. But the thought of someone getting that angered over his non-existent skills.
It’s something that makes him happy throughout his entire day. Which is his main reason to try and look how much he can piss that particular neighbor off even more.
So Charles starts parking even worse. If he also starts on the habit of watching out of his window more often now, he would claim it is just a coincidence. But something in him wants to meet that neighbor.
That person that gets more and more creative with their insults. One time they called him an obstacle to evolution. The other day the business card said something along the lines of him belonging to the asshole club now.
Another, a handwritten, note asked him not to reproduce. The neighbor even left a condom for him. This made Charles laugh so loudly, that (Y/N) looked out her opened window.
She just finished one of the worst shifts she ever had since starting that job and all she wants is just a quiet evening to come down from the stress. Just the noise of the laugh is enough to set her off again.
Seeing her handsome neighbor from under her apartment pocketing the note and condom she left just minutes earlier isn’t what she expected. Watching him opening the car, sitting down and driving off is even less on her list.
It kind of destroys her world view, realizing that hot neighbor and asshole parker are the same person. In the last couple of weeks (Y/N) started to get some fun out of the mean comments she left at the black Ferrari’s window. This also could be her chance to finally make a move on him.
The young woman waits for the brunette to return with his car and stays seated on her couch for another couple minutes, for extra measure of course. After that, she leaves the apartment building with her prepared note and tapes it to the car’s rear window.
Charles on the other side stays glued to his window as soon as he enters his apartment. He finally wants to catch the person that gets angrier and angrier each time he parks in an outrageous way in the act.
Seeing the beautiful neighbor, who lives above him, sticking another note to his car makes his heart flutter in an unexpected way. For some time now he wanted to get to know her and if everything went according to his original plan, ask her out on a date. But maybe he can now use this to his advantage.
As soon as the beautiful neighbor is back in the building Charles waits an extra couple minutes before he once again makes his way to his car.
Running over his vehicle with a pep in his step, Charles is kind of excited about what insults or threats await him now. He has to admit, he actually parked pretty decently. Or as decent as he is able to. So the note has to be at least a little bit nicer than the previous ones.
“Hey neighbor. I thought instead of shitting on you and your parking skills even more, I want you to help and get better. I may not be a driving teacher, but helping you wouldn’t make your skills worse. Just text me with the times you are available at ;)” signed with (Y/N)’s name and number.
It’s kind of funny to explain to the press later how Charles met (Y/N) and became her boyfriend.
"Yeah, well I know that my driving has become sort of a, a meme,” he answers when asked a week after his announcement on instagram, “And my neighbor wasn’t too fond of it either. So she started to leave me these really funny, but also really aggressive notes at my car. One said something like I won the inconsiderate Parker Price. Which made me quite proud.” This entices a laugh out of the journalist. “Yeah, (Y/N) has a really good way with words, I fear. But in the end she offered me some parking lessons.” Charles smiles and thinks back to them.
He had texted (Y/N) immediately and they set up a date for the lesson two days away. But they still continued to text non stop and by the time they met up, it felt like they had been friends for years.
Which didn’t stop (Y/N) raging at Charles after his fifth failed attempt of parking his car according to her instructions. “I don’t believe you anymore. With the way you park you are not from Monaco but the deepest and wildest parts of Italy! Your Ferrari seems really fitting now!” This drew a laugh out of him until she graced him with the meanest look he didn’t expect her to be able to muster up.
“How about dinner as a thank you and apology?” He asked sheepishly, trying both to diffuse the situation and make his move. Why not shoot his shot right now?
Luckily the young woman agreed.
“In the end my parking skills weren’t enough to win her over, but my charm was what scored me a second date.”
And a third. A relationship. After some more funny parking jokes and him kneeling down on one knee with a ring and the promise to take lessons to keep their future family safe he even scored himself his unexpected forever.
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angelbarelywrites · 1 month
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♡ slashers scenarios | y’all accidentally adopt a kid
♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡cw; parenthood (?), mentions of violence
♡notes; i work with toddlers all day yet still somehow get baby fever- so here’s this i guess lol.
i can’t see Brahms as a dad so skipped out on him this time, Vincent is iffy too but we might come back to him
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Micheal Myers
> micheal never wanted to be a father before he met you
> he knows for a fact he has something terribly wrong with him
> and while it never bothered him…it was far too dangerous to pass on
> but the way you light up when little kids on the street wave to you
> how you talked about building a family when you got drunk and sappy
> and how soft and gentle you were holding your friend’s baby…
> he knew you’d be the perfect parent, good enough to balance any bullshit he was bring to the table
> so it’s maybe not a complete accident when he stalks into the house with a banged up stroller out front
> the baby is crying, his parents passed out from some shit they snorted in the living room
> it makes his job easier when he slits their throats, and he’s sure as hell not sympathetic
> not that he ever is
> he follows the cries upstairs- a tiny little boy is wailing in his crib
> but he stops and stares at Micheal, blue eyes wide as he looms in the door
> at first Micheal thinks the racket it going to start again and braces for the scream
> but the boy reaches for him eagerly instead, making grabby hands and squealing
> it takes a bit of snooping but Micheal finds some paperwork after he’s secured the child in a carrier
> Miles. The boy’s name is Miles, and he’s ten months old- just tiny for his age
> you think he’s fucking with you when he sets a baby carrier on your table that night
> “…that’s Miles.” He mutters and walks away
> you’re pissed but you can’t say you have anything but an urge to protect this tiny boy
> he has red hair, and light freckles and the sweetest disposition
> he’s perfect, surely Micheal wouldn’t just steal a child…not without good reason
> and you notice Micheal still lingering, watching you both
> you try not to smile
> “…well. Gonna help me find somewhere he can sleep or not?”
Thomas Hewitt
> when Charlie brings in the little girl, Luda Mae is beyond excited
> she had no idea the couple she’d sent down their road had a baby
> her dark curls and chubby legs and ruddy pink cheeks remind her so much of Thomas at that age too
> not too far off from one if she’s got it right
> she’s thinking selfishly, she’s always wanted a daughter
> but Thomas’ eyes go so wide when you both walk in
> he’s in awe of the tiny lil thing sleeping against his mama’s shoulder
> he won’t hold her, terrified of hurting her
> but you’re eager to take her for a bit and he gets real close, chin hooked on your shoulder so he can inspect her closely
> she’s all giggles as she touches his mask
> and you’re nearly in tears when she snuggles up against you
> “…yknow…i’ve been thinkin. i’m much closer to grandmama age than mama age now”
> you say yes before Luda can finish her ask - there was nothing you wanted more than a child with Thomas
> he’s hesitant, but he already adores her
> you have no way of knowing her name, so what you should call her is a bit of a hot topic for a few days
> Charlie wants to name her Charlotte because he’s a self centered bastard , and Luda Mae has about a thousand suggestions that come from baby books decades older than you
> but you let Thomas decide
> Audrey Mae Hewitt is what he chooses
> Audrey from a book he read
> Mae from his mama
> and it suits her perfectly
Bubba Sawyer
> “hey cook! look what i got!”
> Drayton about beats Choptop in the plate when he sees him carrying a toddler under his arm like a log
> but he’s kind of impressed such a scrawny dirtbag can carry a chunky kid like that
> the little boy is a healthy weight for two or so, with lil chipmunk cheeks that dimple when he grins
> and the cutest damn mullet you’ll ever see
> Drayton is getting too damn old for this, and there���s only one person he trusts even a minuscule amount in the house
> so he just. hands him to you when you walk into the front room
> “congratulations, it’s a boy”
> you’re confused but excited
> and a bit concerned with how he and Bubba will feel once the man gets home
> a kid is a big commitment- and a man that wears people’s faces can be scary
> but Bubba immediately squeals and beelines for the little one when he staggers in
> they both tilt their heads curiously before the boy tries to climb up his leg
> when he picks him up, the boy gives a huge belly laugh, kicking his legs
> you choose his name- politely declining your boyfriend’s brothers’ insistence on Lil Choppy or Drayton II
> Jedediah Junior sounds perfect to you - little JJ
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theminecraftbee · 2 months
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The thing in her cargo hold is looking at her again.
Really, Gem should have sold it by now. If the fishmonger had refused to take it--and really, it seems unlikely, Gem thinks, that the fishmonger would refuse to take it; he has taken and carved up and made meals of far stranger fish than one with a human face and hands and torso--she could have easily sold it to the man on the train, who takes exotic catches for his zoo. She could have even taken it to Grian; it's not a mending book, but it's the sort of thing he'd like to make fun of her for catching, instead of anything she's after.
Really, she should have. The longer she keeps the thing in her cargo hold, the more it starts to look properly human to her. She should know better. She has caught far stranger fish, and none of them have been human. It's another trick these seas have been playing on her, she thinks.
Long nights alone do that to a woman.
She ignores it. Instead, she opens the lid of the tank and starts depositing salmon. "It's a really weird request, that I keep them alive the whole time. You won't eat them, right?" Gem says, knowing the thing in her cargo hold can't answer. "Because if you eat them, this time, I really am going to sell you to the fishmonger. Or maybe I can figure out how to get fillets from you on my own? I've certainly eaten weirder fish..."
The thing in the cargo hold continues to stare. It has eyes that look like little moons, and brown hair, and it is smiling for some reason. Gem huffs.
"Don't give me that look! You are a fish. I am a fisherman. If mere human faces stopped me from doing my job, I would have gone mad a long time ago."
The thing in the cargo hold smiles wider. The lights flicker. Gem rolls her eyes and finishes putting salmon in the tank. As though to spite her, the thing in the cargo hold immediately lashes out, grabbing one in the claws on her otherwise-human hands and then tearing it apart with razor-sharp teeth. Blood rises on the water. Gem sighs.
"I have a harpoon in here somewhere, or at least a very sharp knife," she says to herself. She doesn't really want to use her nice knife, the one she always keeps on her belt, but she ought to have another knife around with which she can finish the job, right?
The lights flicker and go out. When she looks across at the tank, there are two silvery-moon eyes looking at her.
Gem pulls a wire. Gem turns the lights back on. She takes a deep breath.
"I really should have sold you by now, really. If the fishmonger won't take you, then the zookeeper would love you," Gem says.
The radio crackles. Gem startles. Very, very few people ever contact her on the shipboard radio, but if she's getting a signal, that's more important than a grudge match with a fish. She heads over to answer the call.
An amalgamation of voices responds:
YOU ARE FUNNY. I HAVE A MESSAGE. A DELIVERY. YOU'VE TRAPPED ME THOUGH.
Slowly, Gem turns around to the thing in the cargo hold.
"This won't stop me from treating you like a fish," she says. "If messages from the ocean stopped me--"
A terrible, crackling laugh sounds from the radio.
I AM THE MOON'S PEARL. YOU WILL NOT HOLD ME FOREVER. WE WILL SEE WHO EATS WHO.
Gem wags her finger. "We'll see, for sure, as long as you don't eat my salmon. That man in the fish-scaled suit was VERY insistent, you know."
TELL ME MORE.
"You're tying up my radio. What if there's another ship? What if there's something important?"
OH GEM. YOU KNOW THERE WON'T BE.
Gem swallows.
The thing in the cargo hold is staring at her.
"I need to sleep. I need to go to shore," she says.
YOU WON'T, the radio says.
She won't.
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alotofpockets · 3 months
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The unexpected gift | Alessia Russo
Tumblr media
Pairing: Alessia Russo x Reader
Summary: Meeting Alessia at a bar while she's out celebrating her birthday.
A/n: In honour of Lessi's birthday :)
Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k
-----
You were looking around the busy bar, trying to find the friends you had arrived with. Only one of them was still sharing the table with you. “Have you seen the rest?” Emma shakes her head, “I saw Lexi leaving with some guy like fifteen minutes ago, and the last time I saw Mandy, she was making out with a girl on the dance floor.” You laugh, “Maybe we should go and find some people too.” You see your friend looking over your shoulder, “I think I found just the right person.” Her face lights up, so you look over your shoulder to see who she’s looking at. You immediately knew who she was talking about, “Em she's totally your type. You should go for it!” You encourage her. “You'll be alright on your own?” You've probably never nodded faster in your life, “Go shoot your shot!” 
Now it was just you. First, another drink, you thought as you got up and headed to the bar. You had never been one to just step up to a girl and shoot your shot, so you were going to need some more liquid courage. What you hadn’t expected was for a girl to literally fall into your arms.
You quickly react and catch her before she falls down completely. “Oh my god, I am so sorry.” The girl starts apologising profusely, her words barely registering as you’re immediately lost in her piercing blue eyes. “It's okay, but you could've just said hi, you know?” The girl visibly relaxes at your joke. “Hi.” She says with a big smile on your face. You went from being mesmerised by her eyes to being mesmerised by her smile. The girl was absolutely stunning, and you thanked the universe that you were the one she fell into. “Hey,” you send her a smile back, “what brings you out tonight?” 
“I’m actually here celebrating my birthday with some of my friends. What about you?” At that the girl in front of you seemed to remember that it wasn’t just the two of you in the room. “That’s so fun, happy birthday! I’m here with a couple of friends too, except they all left to go make out with strangers.” You joke.
Before the blonde could respond, a hand fell onto her shoulder, “Oi Lessi, what’s taking so long?” Lessi, you smile now knowing her name. She nudges her head your way, hoping that her friend would leave her alone. “Oh, I see.” She says with a smirk, as she sees her friend's cheeks flush. The girl looks your way. “What are you drinking?” You give her your drink of choice and thank her before continuing your conversation, “So, Lessi is it?” She holds out her hand, “Alessia actually.” You shake her hand, “Y/n.” You realise you hadn’t let go of her hand yet, so you slowly retract it. “You should join me and my friends.” She said with a smile you couldn’t say no to even if you wanted to. So, when Alessia’s friend presses a drink into your hands, you find yourself following the two to the other side of the bar. 
“Sorry for the wait, but don’t fear Katie is here with the drinks! Also, this is y/n, she’ll be joining us.” You wave to the group as a bunch of hello’s are thrown your way. Since the group was large enough to entertain themselves, Alessia guided you over to a free spot at the table, so you could continue your conversation. “You’ve got quite the group of people here with you.” You comment, looking out over the twenty something girls surrounding you. “Oh yes, I play football, and these are all my teammates. Since we’re such a big group when we all go somewhere, I like to just invite them out instead of having to host this many people at home.” 
She tells you all about football, and her experience playing in the euro’s after you asked for it. You found it adorable that she was so passionate about her sport. You hadn’t even realised an hour had gone by since you had sat down, until one of her friends stood in front of you. “Less, come on, we want to go to the next bar.” The girl was looking at her expectantly, and looked to be very excited for their next step of the night. “You promised us karaoke, now let’s go.” Alessia looks between the two of you, “Okay Beth, calm down. We’ll go to the karaoke bar, tell the girls to get ready, and I’ll be right there.” 
Once Beth turns around you hear her loudly announce to the group that you’re going to the next bar, you smile at her enthusiasm showing so clearly. “She’s really into karaoke, huh?” Alessia laughs, “I think she just enjoys watching everyone embarrass themselves, honestly. Would you want to come with us? I don’t want our time to end yet.” You loved the idea of spending more time with Alessia, so you agreed. “I’m not singing though.” 
You quickly text your friends where you’re going as you were grabbing your coat, before you join Alessia’s friends outside. Alessia wasn’t there yet, so you make small talk with Lia, Vic, and Leah. A few minutes later you saw Alessia approaching, but before she reached you, she tripped over her own feet. Luckily Leah was quick to catch her this time. “That twice now, seems like you really needed some fresh air.” You laugh. “Trust me it’s not just the alcohol, she’s naturally clumsy.” Vic says, earning herself a playful shove from Alessia. 
The karaoke bar was busy, so it took a while before any of the girls got to sing, but the atmosphere in the bar was great. You were dancing and singing along to the music along with the rest of the girls.
Beth, Jen, and Steph, were the first ones up on the stage, performing their rendition of ABBA’s Dancing Queen, they fully let go and belted the lyrics to the audience, and they sang it back just as loud.
As the night went on, you found yourself getting closer and closer to Alessia. Until eventually, her arms were around your waist, while you were swinging to the music together.
You didn’t want the night to end, but the bar was slowly emptying out, and you knew it was going to close soon. “Alright, last song everybody. This is Sweet Caroline performed by the Arsenal Women's team.” The DJ announced. The girls made their way to the stage, and before you had time to resist, you got dragged along with them. 
Blending into the group, you let go and sing along with the words to the song.
Hands, touching hands
Reaching out, touching me, touching you
Sweet Caroline pam pam pam
Good times never seemed so good
You had to admit that that was a lot of fun. 
Once everyone was out of the bar, Alessia took you aside, trying to get away from the loudness of her friends. “I had a lot of fun tonight, thank you for inviting me to join your birthday celebration.” Her smile grows, “Of course, I am so glad that I did. Thank you for a great night. Actually I was wondering if I could see you again sometime, like take you out on a date." She started fiddling with the rings on her fingers, suddenly becoming nervous. So, you take her hand in yours, “I would love to." Her nerves faded away just as quickly as they had appeared. “Yeah? That’s great. Let me get your number.” You put your numbers in each other’s phones. 
“Thanks again for a great night.” Alessia said, taking your hand in hers again. “Likewise, birthday girl.” You’re about to move back to the rest of the group when you get an idea, and turn to Alessia again. “I haven’t given you a birthday gift yet.” Alessia laughs, “I mean I didn’t really give you any notice.” You smile at her quick joke. “That’s okay, I’m great at improvising.” You take a step closer to her, and lean in to kiss her. 
Her lips are soft on yours, and you taste the sweetness of the cocktails she’s been drinking on them. You break the kiss with flushed cheeks from the wolf whistles and cheers coming from the group behind you. So, you lean in to whisper into her ear, “Happy birthday.” 
Your house was only a couple blocks away, but Alessia insisted on you joining her in her Uber, making the driver take an extra stop. “Text me when you get home?” You ask as you get out, and she nods, “I will.” 
When she was alone in the Uber, Alessia starts reminiscing on her birthday. She had a great time with her teammates, and got a lot of great presents. Thought, the unexpected gift of meeting you, was her favourite gift of all.
-----
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454 notes · View notes
estrellami-1 · 10 months
Text
If I Should Stay
Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.
Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.
She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”
Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”
She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.
“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”
“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”
“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”
“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”
Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.
“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”
“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ‘em took Barb last night.”
“Fuck,” Robin whispers.
“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”
“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”
“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”
“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”
“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.
Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.
“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”
“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”
“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”
“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”
Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”
“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”
Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.
“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”
Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.
“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”
A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”
“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”
A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”
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AITA for poisoning a child over mountain dew?
For context, I (17) have a developed a slight addiction to mountain dew over quarantine. it's one of my favorite soft drinks. Every month I buy a case of it with my own money when my parents do their monthly grocery shopping and that is my allotted stashe for the month. However, I've noticed for about two years now that my stashe is running out sooner than I expected, the first few times I've simply thought I miss calculated but later I suspected it was being stolen after I kept rigorous track of how much I drank. I told my parents but they said I shouldn't get so worked up over it, and if I really wanted to keep it safe I should keep it locked up somewhere. So I did. Afterwards, almost weekly I've had our maid/housekeeper(a distant cousin of my mom's- we do pay her) ask me for my soda. I suspected that she might've been the soda stealer so out of spite I refused to give her from "my" stashe, instead offering to buy some/give her the money and she refused. Even after that, a couple months later I've noticed it running out sooner again. I pointed it out to my parents and they did nothing still. I hid my keys. It stopped the stealing for a few weeks but then it started again. I've confronted her about it but she denies it and blames me for for suspecting her when she does so much for us. And my mom refuses to discuss it with her either, saying I'm making such a big deal out of something like soda and that I probably miscalculated anyways. I've taken photographic evidence of my shit going missing (taking a photo before going to school and coming home with a bottle missing) and still she say to "let it go". At this point, it's not even about the soda for me. It's about the fact I brought this shit with my own money and it's being stolen EVEN AFTER I TRIED EVERYTHING TO PREVENT IT and its been going on for TWO YEARS. And I can't help but feel paranoid and suspect her whenever any of my other possessions start disappearing.
Here comes the poisoning part. I've recently developed some gastrointestinal issues, so I have to take prescribed laxatives. I've had enough of my shit being stolen and I've decided whoever steals it needs to shit themselves and maybe then they'll stop. I marked out a few bottles and carefully opened them and mixed in the laxative(About half dose per bottle) before resealing them thoroughly. I put them in front of all the other non-laced drinks so they're the easiest ones to grab. Sure enough, they've been stolen. And a few days later she comes to my mom complaining that her grandson keeps getting diarrhea and she has no idea why. I told her maybe she shouldn't feed a <10 yr old mountain dew and she was like, "How do you know it was the dew that caused it?" I just shrugged and told her I had a hunch, but with the way she stared at me I think she understood what I had did. Later on my mom yelled at me for pulling that stunt, and I was honestly sick of her shit and told her next time I'm mixing in rat poison and I wont even be labeling the laced ones. like. stop taking my shit without asking. especially shit i brought with my own money.
What are these acronyms?
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revasserium · 7 months
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i carry your heart with me - Zoro with an s/o he meets during his travels
i carry your heart (with me)
opla!zoro; 1,776 words; fluff, a bit of angst, and then fluff again, fem!reader, implied smut but none actually written out (i know, maybe next time lol)
summary: whipped!zoro is whipped.
a/n: this is painfully self-indulgent. but if u wanna read about zoro being grossly in love... here you go.
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he meets you in a city of gold — golden leaves and golden apples, golden wheat and golden cattle. he meets you with your golden voice, a sound like liquid sun; he meets you with your gold-spun dreams, and somehow, he knows you’re the one.
he’d never known a song could sounds so beautiful till he heard you sing for the very first time. he doesn’t blame the jostling crowds of men at the bar as they try to push just an inch closer to the stage, their eyes hazy with candlelight and greed.
but later that night, after too many drinks and a few good hours of usopp regaling their best adventures, zoro kisses you and thinks himself the greediest of them all.
“come with us,” he says, with the sun setting fire to the evening sky.
“come with us,” he says, murmuring the words against your skin, cloaked beneath the darkness of night.
“what would i even do on a pirate ship?” you’d asked, laughing as he ghosts his lips along the column of your neck, content with the thought of drowning himself in the texture of your bitten off sighs.
“dunno, you can sing… we’ve been looking that.”
you pull away to stare at him, and somewhere behind the glassy glaze of your eyes, he finds oceans that he’d never sailed, oceans the depths of which he thinks he could spend the rest of his life trying to explore. but he saw something there that night he’d seen the very first time he’d caught your eyes — the glimmer of want like lamps behind a submarine’s windows — and in them, he sees a thirst for adventure that mirrors his own.
a thirst that he’s tasted on the open salt breeze, in the wild, uncertain whomph of unfurling sails against the backdrop of a dawning sky.
you hum against the skin of his shoulder and he lets his fingers track an indulgent trail along the length of your spine.
“can i at least sleep on it?” you ask, laughing as he sighs huffily and makes to roll away from you. you pull him back with another kiss and he lets himself be properly lost for the first time in what feels like centuries.
in the morning, you find the bed empty and the sun beyond your small bedroom window is cracking over an eggshell dawn. the wind is warm, but the ground is still chilly — the sky is the shade of a fading bruise and by the time you reach port, the grand pirate ship with the sheep’s head mast is no longer there. you sigh, wrap your shawl more tightly around your shoulders and wonder if he’ll ever think of you again.
he does, though he wouldn’t get the chance to tell you for years and years and years.
“i thought you said you’d convince her?” sanji asks over a freshly rolled cigarette and two tankards of barrel-aged beer.
zoro shrugs, “i tried.”
“shoulda tried harder, then.”
zoro grunts, taking a long swig of his beer and wincing as he glances between sanji and the glass.
“what’dyou put in here?”
sanji’s grin goes lopsided as he waves a hand vaguely through the air, “oh, just somethin’ with a bit more bite. looked like you needed it.”
and for once, zoro doesn’t snipe back. instead, he stares at the tankard for a long second before drowning the entire thing in a few forceful gulps.
just then, luffy rounds the door into the kitchen and grins at the two men at the counter.
“whatcha talkin’ about?”
sanji jerks his head towards zoro, “just about zoro’s lost love.”
“she ain’t lost. we know exactly where she is.”
sanji opens his mouth but pauses as he realizes there are two things zoro could’ve denied and he’d only denied one.
luffy grins, “oh i know. i convinced him to let her go.”
sanji frowns, “wait what? weren’t you the first one that said we should ask her to join?”
luffy nods, still grinning, “sure! yeah, her singing’s the best i’ve heard, but if she’s not ready, we shouldn’t force her. she’ll find us though, someday. and she’ll just join the crew then!”
there’s a kind of childish, miraculous certainty with which luffy says things that always leaves strangers baffled. but his crew knows him better — they know that his blind trust only seems blind because he puts his trust in things that other people might not yet be able to see.
and he doesn’t strike out this time either, even though it’s years before any of them would meet you again.
though meet you, they do, but this time, it’s amidst canon-fire and wood dust and the incoherent shouts of retreating marines.
zoro sees you first, flying through the air on a thick length of rope, a small instrument strapped to your back, landing light on the deck like a ghost or a daydream. you’re different now, your limbs a bit longer, your hair a bit lighter, twisted back with a strand of golden ribbon so bright it might’ve stolen light from the sun itself.
“its — it’s you!” luffy is a bit breathless and there’s a dark soot smudge across his cheeks, but he’s smiling all the same.
“yeah, i heard you guys were looking for a musician?”
zoro wipes down the length of his swords, his eyes never leaving your form as he makes his way to you.
“so, guess you slept on it, huh?”
you turn towards him, and he’s once more held still by the look in your eyes. there’s a fierce, feral fire there that threatens to ignite everything it touches, and when you smile, zoro feels the burning inside him just as strong as before, as if he’s held a piece of you in his chest all these years and the proximity to you has finally set it ablaze.
“yep. i did. and here i am.”
luffy laughs and claps you on the shoulder as sanji lights up a post-fight cigarette, grinning toothily at you as he asks if you’d like anything to eat or drink. and soon, the rest of their growing crew joins you as you’re pulled away from zoro for what nami had termed a proper straw hat initiation.
he thinks he’d never appreciated music until you’re the one playing it — later that evening, he lets himself be carried on the moonlit tendrils of your voice as it dances over a soft melody of strings and the ever present lullaby of the drowsy sea.
and then, even later, when he finally gets you alone enough to press his mouth to yours, he thinks that your skin smells of a thousand untold stories, collected in the curve for your neck and the bend of your hips, arresting his senses like so many exotic perfumes from distant lands. he maps a constellation of wants and unsaid words into the long, sinuous expanses of your thighs and re-teaches himself the meaning of greed as he kisses a line up your stomach, back up to your lips to find you smiling.
“hey,” he says, reaching down to run a finger along the high of your cheeks. freckles. you didn't used to have them before.
“hey yourself, stranger,” you say, adjusting your body slightly so he can lay down next to you.
neither of you remark upon the lingering ghost of a night long past, the shapes of your bodies curled into almost identical shapes, the darkness wrapped around you like a promise that’s made to be broken.
“how’d you even find us?” zoro asks, letting his thumb trace absent circles into the soft of your kiss-bruised shoulder.
“weren’t you listening at dinner? i was ‘rescued’ from another pirate ship by the marines and —”
zoro scoffs, “i’ve hung around usopp long enough to know bullshit when i hear it.”
you quiet, though it’s not an unpleasant silence by any means.
“you wanna know the truth?” you ask, shifting to pillow your cheek against his chest.
he nods, “yeah, that’d be nice.”
you bite your lips, “i went looking for you. the morning after you left. but by the time i got to the docks, you guys were already gone.”
“hm.”
you let out a long sigh, “why’d you leave?”
you shift to look up at him; he glances down to meet your eyes. there’s no accusation in your voice, just a simple curiosity. and somehow, that stings more than zoro would ever admit.
“you… you didn’t seem like you were ready.”
he clears his throat and looks away, luffy’s words echoing back through the years.
“and… we knew that you’d find us eventually.”
when he looks down this time, your eyebrows are cocked and there’s an indulgent smile on your lips.
“well, guess you were right.”
you shift again to curl into his side and he adjusts slightly to slot his body more comfortably against yours. he remembers wondering how two bodies could be made separately and still fit so perfectly together like this. and here and now, he wonders how that might still be true after so many years.
he grounds himself in the rhythmic cycle of your breaths.
“zoro?”
your drowsy voice stirs him from the edges of his dreams and for a moment, he doesn’t remember when or where he is — if he’s back in the golden village lying in your tiny, warm bedroom, or if he’s on the going merry, with you tucked perfectly against his side.
“yeah?”
“will you be here in the morning?”
“mm. yeah. i will.”
the blankets rustle, the world around you shifts, like a camera with a mismatched lens, and for a second, just a single second, time bends back on itself, and zoro feels one moment superimposed over another. a fracture, a singularity, a temporary double-exposure.
and then, the film flickers and time unwinds itself, and he can hear the soft shushing of waves against the merry’s hull.
“do you promise?” you ask, curling your fingers against zoro’s chest as he turns towards you to pull you closer into him.
“yeah,” he says, his voice already thick with the syrup of sleep and dreams, even as he leans down to drop a kiss into your hair —
“i promise. ‘m not going anywhere.”
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feed me opla!zoro reqs pls i beg
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desperate-gay · 5 months
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not to add to what looks like a lot of mary smut requests, could you write something smutty for lucy where the reader just doesn’t want to think after a loss and lucy helps her not think
Distraction
Lucy Bronze x fem!reader
SMUT 18+
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“We played the best we could. You were amazing out there.” Lucy says, trying to cheer you up while combing her hand through your hair. You both are lying on your bed, your head resting on her chest, it slowly moving up and down from the girl’s breathing.
“I had two chances. Two. Both times I hit the stupid post and that cost us going to the semi-finals.” Your voice wavers slightly due to your emotions rising from thinking about it.
You know Lucy is taking it pretty tough too, but she scored the last goal, almost securing your spots. The difference between the two of you is Lucy thinks positively and moves on while you think about all of the things you could’ve done differently, making your head think it’s all your fault.
Almost like she’s reading your mind, she interrupts, “It’s not your fault.” You scoff in response but Lucy doesn’t accept that. “I’m serious, it’s not at all your fault. We all are a team, so it’s not on you.”
With a little sniffle, you sit up and place yourself on the older girl’s lap. Her gaze remains soft and concerned, worried about your watery eyes to which you just shake your head. Your hands find their places on her neck, rubbing up and down in a sweet manner.
“I don’t want to think about it anymore. Help me forget?” You ask, leaning down and placing your forehead against hers. Both of you sit there in comfortable silence with your eyes still closed and hands rubbing at each other’s skin.
“Are you sure this is a good idea? Maybe we should just-“
“Please, Lucy.” The desperation in your words is strong, letting the girl know under you that you need her.
Lucy sighs, nodding her head in agreement as she kisses your forehead and then trails them down to your lips. When your lips intertwine, the kiss is slow and deep, her way of assuring you everything is going to be okay. Her tongue brushes against yours, making you moan softly into the kiss as your hand trails down her muscular stomach.
Pulling away, you grab at the hem of her shirt, asking to take it off. Lucy gets the idea and lifts it over her head, mindlessly throwing it somewhere before connecting her lips back to yours for a sloppier kiss than the previous ones. Your hips begin to grind on her lap which makes the brunette smirk a little, her hands quick to tug off your shirt and unclip your bra.
Her lips trail down onto your chest, swirling her tongue around your nipple while her hand kneads at the other one. Your hands brush through her hair, sighing softly at the feeling of her mouth on your chest. After a minute or two, you cup her cheeks and tilt her head to look back up at you before smashing your lips back onto hers.
“You’re so beautiful,” Lucy murmurs, her arms wrapping around your back, flipping the two of you over so she now lays on top of you, scaring you and making you squeak.
“Warn a girl next time, eh?” Lucy just shrugs, causing you to giggle at her careless and rushed behavior. She smiles down at you, happy she can finally see that you’re feeling better.
Her head tucks into your neck, placing multiple kisses all over, sucking and biting at a few spots. She lies a series of kisses down your neck down to your belly button, stopping at the fabric that blocks where she wants to go. Lucy places more sensual kisses on your lower stomach, slowing down her quick pace.
You tilt your head back against the sheets and take a deep breath, losing all of the negative thoughts that were running through your head, trying now to be more in the moment and let Lucy help you out.
As she trails kisses lower, her hands drag down the fabric of your shorts and underwear with her, allowing her to have access to where you need. The feeling of her breath ghosts against your slit but instead moves to your inner thighs to suck hickeys. With a shake of your thigh and a whine, Lucy chuckles and dives right in, licking up through your folds. A loud moan slips out from your mouth at the sudden pleasure, but she pulls away fast, leaving you wet and desperate.
You flinch when her cold hand meets the warm skin of your calf, throwing it over her shoulder. Licking her lips, she leans back down and blows over your glistening hole, causing you to flinch back. A smirk etches on her features before she flicks her tongue over your clit. Seeing you’ve had a bad day, she doesn’t tease you too much, allowing you to get off edge as soon as possible.
Her lips wrap around your clit, gently sucking with makes her back arch slightly, hips moving closer to her face. While she continues her strokes, she notices your hands gripping the bed so she reaches out and intertwines your hands together. A small smile reaches your lips at the sweet gesture but is interrupted by the sounds escaping your lips.
Lucy’s tongue now pushing in and out of you as her nose bumps against your clit, pleasing you in the most wonderful ways. Your mind blank and cloudy from your approaching orgasm. Noticing your breathing getting faster and your hand squeezing hers harder than before, she knows you’re close, so she attaches her mouth back onto your clit, switching between sucking and licking.
Your hips arch up while your teeth grind together from the stimulation on your body. Your mouth opens in a silent scream as your hips shutter, Lucy’s mouth working slowly, helping you ride through your orgasm. Once your moans turn into a whine and your body flinches away, she kisses your thighs and makes her way back up to you, placing your leg back onto the bed.
“You did so good.” Lucy praises, pecking your cheeks sweetly, her hand cupping the other side of your head to pull you closer to her lips. You smile, wrapping your fingers around her wrist and guiding it to your lips to press a tiny kiss on her palm.
“Thank you, Lucy. I love you.” Your eyes gaze at hers with the most loving look. The brunette leans down and connects your lips to a passionate kiss. Nothing heated or sexual about it, just a kiss pouring your feelings into one another.
“I love you too, gorgeous.”
With a few more kisses, you lay your head down on her chest and trace the tattoo on her wrist. Lucy looks down at you realizing that no matter how tough a game goes, she’ll always have you to go home to so there’s nothing to be sad about.
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cod-fishing · 5 months
Text
Thinking about Price being possessive over his boys. Not romantically or sexually (he likes to tell himself), but any time Soap starts chatting about some bear he met in a bar during leave, or Gaz mentions a girl who gave him her number, he can feel himself bristle. He tries to bury it, but it only gets worse after Las Almas, their bonds forged in far too much blood, and he struggles to bite down discouragement for any connection outside their little family.
When soap and ghost finally get together, he can’t figure out which of them he wants to throttle, but the sensation is intense nonetheless. Enough that he can’t stop himself from ordering them to his office and dressing them down so meticulously his old drill Sargent would be proud. They both look defiant. At perfect attention, military perfect in their stance, but fire in both of their eyes. It’s only when Soap, jaw clenched, demands if Price is going to transfer them that the Captain falters.
He sits heavy into his chair, and orders his boys at ease.
“I could never let go of either of you,” he finds himself gritting out through cigar smoke and choking emotions, far too unfiltered, “I just don’t want you boys to get hurt.”
He sees them soften, understanding. Not expecting a real answer, Price asks them their intentions with one another. He doesn’t want either of them to hurt the other, and while he knows they both have hearts of gold, they’ve got a lot of thorns as well. But they talk, and Soap is his usual genuine self and Ghost- Simon, really - is more honest and open than Price has seen him be ever, so…
He says okay. But keep me updated, he says. The good and the bad. They nod, and he assumes he’ll have to pry information out of them, and they move on.
Miraculously, they do keep him updated. Soap comes knocking one day, and Price asks about those reports he sent him off with and Soap says, aye, captain, got those for you, but ah…can I tell you something sweet Ghost did for me today? He’s bursting with joy when Price looks at him properly, and how can he say no to that?
Ghost, too, comes in one day, and asks to speak with the captain. Need some advice, sir. Johnny wants to take me home to his family for the holidays and I’m feeling real conflicted, he says. And they talk it out, fingers playing with the rims of their whiskey glasses. Price gets this feeling in his chest, likes he wants to reach out and trace his fingers somewhere else, but he ignores it.
It keeps happening that way, Price getting deeper and deeper in their relationship. He knows everything about the two together - almost everything. Ghost is on a solo mission one day and soap is moping, and so price pulls him into his office with the intention of getting him plastered and making him go to bed.
Instead, Johnny gets talkative. He should have known.
“God, Price, you wouldn’t believe the things he can do with his mouth. His fingers, too, lord knows where he learned it, but it’s like he took a fucking class on making me cum just from the teasing alone.”
“You’ve heard his voice captain, I mean no wonder I was creaming my pants to be with him so bad, and boy was I right. Downright evil how good it sounds during and early morning shag.”
And, even worse than all that, somehow…
“Well you know me, I like to be the best. So I told him we should start training my throat, so I can actually take his monster cock, the bastard. Did pass out the first time but we’ve been taking it slowly but surely ever since.”
And Price just…he should shut him up, but instead, he just takes it. Just lets the lad ramble about his love, like some lass back at home pinning for her deployed soldier. He hates it, he hates it, he tells himself. But he takes it for Johnny, and for Simon, and for the trust they have put in him.
And when he fists his cock in his quarters later that night, aching from being hard for so long, he can’t help but picture all those filthy things Soap told him.
Maybe, all this time, he was just jealous.
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