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#also my queue times are a mess hi
beetlemp3 · 1 year
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the art department. | 1963
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“klaus mikaelson is a man who’s committed several atrocities and done terrible, sometimes inexcusable things, which he should be held accountable for” and “klaus mikaelson is a morally gray, complex and flawed person who loves his family, genuinely respects ppl he cares about, and has good inside of him, even if he’s unable to express love in a healthy way due to the traumatic abuse he endured from his father that resulted in his paranoia and distrust” are two statements that can and should coexist
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jigencaps · 2 years
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jeoseungsaja · 2 years
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🍸 + not a question, but rather please take an equally drunk patrick stumbling over to his dear friend to ask him to hold something for him....it's patrick's hand. that and patrick will also be kissing his dear friend on the cheek once they're holding hands 😊
@ofgentleresolve ♚ from x.
♔ ———–
   Once again he’s sitting on the floor, his back pressed to the couch and his hand still holding the neck of a half-empty bottle of Soju. It almost feels like déjà vu, akin to that day where he was sitting right on this spot, waiting for Patrick to come back from the bathroom. The difference is that this time, his dear friend is not the only one drenched in tipsiness but he, too, is drunk to the point of feeling a bit of dizziness swirling in his head. 
   How did he manage to get like this? Well, the conversation kept flowing and he never noticed the drinks continued to be poured down the glass until part of his speech became a little slurred. Then again, not noticing has become something common when it comes to spending time with his best friend --- Hyuk forgets everything else but the fact that Patrick is there, with him. Why would he focus in the quantity of distilled spirit, when he rather remember the number of times Patrick laughed? 
    So now he’s here, under the roof of a familiar place, away from the table and stuck to the ground. His eyes close for a second, free hand pressed to his forehead as something similar to a grumble escapes his alcohol-stained lips. One eye opens when he starts to hear the sound of something hitting another something, head tilting to find Patrick clumsily walking and a bag with art supplies (that Hyuk bought recently) toppling over. He thinks he hears his dear friend apologizing (though he doesn’t know if the apology is aimed toward him or the bag); palm moving to be waved in dismissal. 
    “Leave it there, I’ll....I’ll pick--pick it up ‘morrow.” 
     Even in this hazy state, he doesn’t want Patrick to make any unnecessary efforts. Besides, what if he tries to pick up the brushes which rolled out of the bag and ends up hitting his head against something? No, no; it’s best like this. 
    “It’s fine. Could...you...come sit down, here, here---” 
     And he pats the space next to him; leaving the bottle of Soju somewhere away from his grasp so both of his hands can lazily land on his lap. Seconds later and he’s hearing more stumbling; torpid sight following Patrick’s silhouette making it to where he is. The signs of his dear friend being inebriated are present: red-flushed cheeks, rolled up sleeves; dopey (but vastly endearing) grin...and words that Hyuk can’t fully understand at first, but that must be because the detective is also under the influence. 
    “What? Y’want me...to hold somethin’?” 
    He repeats in the shape of a question, Patrick’s sluggish nod confirming Hyuk’s ears didn’t fully fail him. The detective’s hand stretches out, palm up and ready to receive anything his best friend wants him to hold. He doesn’t even hesitate, just accepts his request without even asking him what, exactly, wishes for him to temporarily have. 
    A plop is heard and the warmth of his friend is felt, meaning that he’s finally sitting nearby. Soon enough, weight is added to Hyuk’s waiting hand; head turning to see what it is. He blinks and frowns. That’s...Patrick’s hand, and he doesn’t feel an item or anything between their hands now clasped together. 
    Wait.      Wait.     It takes him longer to connect the dots when drunk.      Curse him for being a lightweight.
    “This is what y’wanted me to ‘old?” 
     And he lifts their intertwined hands --- funnily enough, Hyuk doesn’t let go. Not even for a second. A vague nod comes from his friend, along with the sudden planting of a kiss on Hyuk’s cheek. It’s not long enough before pink begins to bloom on his skin, along with a muzzy smile. Does this mean...Patrick is also prone to flirt when drunk? That’s something Hyuk didn’t know about...not like this, at least; a brand new door unlocked due to the stages they’re moving through.
    Because, at this point, it’d be insanely silly to say they’re just friends, right?     They can deny it all they want, but their hearts would challenge them, wouldn’t they? 
    Hyuk’s smile widens. He likes this. Likes that he’s getting to know more about another side of Patrick, likes that these lines and actions are aimed to him; likes that he gets to have this moment with his best friend --- likes him, Patrick, more than words can express. 
    “Okay. I’m taking good care of it.” 
     He tells Patrick, looking at him and that kind face which tends to send odd sensations (they’re called butterflies, but he’s too rusty to recognize that) to his stomach.
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  Eyes dance over dear friend’s features; drunken stupor adding a boldness to let his sight freeze on the shape of his best friend’s lips. There they are again, the thoughts, the what if’s, the undisclosed wishes. But instead of letting them win whilst drunk, Hyuk ends up allowing his head to fall on Patrick’s shoulder; temple comfortably pressed there. 
     His thumb, it begins to draw soft circles on Patrick’s hand; eyes dropping to catch the view of their hands holding each other. It does feel like déjà vu. 
    Except, except.      There is no thoughts of ‘I should let go’.      No, in fact, he squeezes his dear friend’s hand.      In fact, he decides to twist their arms a little so Patrick’s fist is facing him.      And when this happens, he brings the professor’s knuckles to his lips and kisses them.      Presses a hearty kiss there, between bones. 
     “I’m taking good care of it.” 
     He repeats, his eyes slowly closing; sleepiness somehow kicking in. It’s this peace, he knows. The peace he feels when Patrick’s near --- he’s the one who calms his raging waters; the sea that constantly threatens to lift high waves. 
    “Good care...of...you. I promise.” 
———– ♔
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catiuskaa · 3 months
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reggaeton & champagne.
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PAIRING! lee minho x reader x bang chan
SUMMARY: you knew better than to go down to the club alone. and that guy should’ve known better than to mess with minho and chan’s property.
REQUESTED! by my pookie @sharonxdevi who requested this here! and it’s such a good idea, tysm for trusting me with it<3
CW: the boys may come off as a little possesive, there’s a touchy douche in the club, mentions of alcohol, it ain’t spicy but surely it’s nsfw.
WC: 2.3k
A/N: so i’ve never even thought of writing poly!skz relationships until now, but i think it came out nicely! (and if you kinda recognize the title— i just spend an unhealthy amount of time watching skz edits on instagram lololol)
[🔹☆💠☆🔹]
The sign of the club glowed with bluish neon lights at the entrance. There was also a man, notebook in hand, receiving IDs prior to welcoming the long queue of people. Although it was not the most expensive nightclub in the city, you could see the difference between it and the rest of the clubs in town, in the sense that the establishment was very tidy and clean, with security personnel scattered around the corners, watching that everything was going out smoothly.
It was unusual for you to want to go out clubbing, but considering the boys’ schedule, any chance to make plans together was welcomed with open arms.
Especially by Minho and Chan, who would never force you to go out, but their lingering stares and their arms that would sneakily clung to your waist or your shoulders —and in some cases, to lovingly slap your ass or thighs—, were meant as a way of encouragement when you dressed up and went for it.
And a way to say that, as always, you looked fine as hell.
You had chosen a short silver-coloured dress that reached your mid-thighs, accompanied by a pair of matching mesh thigh-highs with cute little clips that allowed them to stay in place, only because you knew how to entertain your public, and loved every single second their eyes stayed glued to you as you danced your heart out.
The music pounded against the walls and reverberated through the floor, but not as much as how the booze traveled through your veins, only giddy enough to celebrate how well their last tour had gone, and merely to have some well-deserved fun.
Minho’s hands grasped you by your waist, pulling you off Chan’s arms and smirking as he pushed your back flush against his body.
One of his hands remained in place, but the other one moved slowly, tempting fingers heading down to your thighs, as if walking, the motion almost ticklish. You could feel his cat-like grin from behind you as you looked at Chan, who wasn’t mad at all, rather cheekily enjoying the other man’s antics as you kept dancing against him, following the rhythm of the music.
Chris got closer to the both of you, taking your arms and settling them on his shoulders as he approached even further, now the two gentlemen dressed in fine clothes towering over you.
“Our princess is feeling good today, huh?” His hand cradled your face, holding your chin in a tender grasp, unlike Minho, who started to play with one of the clips on your high mesh stockings.
You were about to say something, but Minho tugged at one of the straps and chuckled next to your ear, slapping it back. Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip, feeling the blush rising to your cheeks, the light foundation you had applied not being able to cover it.
Chris snickered, and Minho lightly bit the shell of your ear, and they both laughed as you squirmed in between their arms.
“Ok, ok—!” You giggled, out of breath due to the tickling and else. You didn’t want to leave just yet, but didn’t want to stop teasing your boys either.
Tugging on Chan’s collar, you propelled him forward, his hands ending on Minho’s shoulders by reflex. You moved your body in between both of them, swaying your hips, playing with Chris’ hair as you turned your head to face the man behind you, and chuckled, biting his lip.
They both felt a rush of blood heading to their face—and downwards—, but you stopped Chan for pushing you against Minho even more, one of your soft hands nonchalantly moving from the back of his neck to his chest, cheekily stroking his toned upper body.
“I think we can use some more drinks, gentlemen.” Your tone was filled with an enticing mockery only powered by their presence, and you licked your lips, feeling Minho’s slender fingers playing with the rim of your dress, tapping your thigh gently.
“I think we should head to the VIP lounge.” He grunted against your ear, his breath tickling your there, but the gentle yet lust-filled kisses he left right below started driving you a bit crazy. “Whaddya think, Chan?” Minho smirked, swiftly lifting his head from your neck to stare at the older man.
With all the mix of bright coloured lights, you could notice slightly how Chris’ eyes grew darker. Almost so dark that they could fuck you themselves, and you squeezed your thighs at the thought.
“I think our little brat needs to learn that teasing won’t get her anywhere, hyung.” Minho’s slender fingers playfully traced mindless shapes on your thigh.
The older man swallowed hard, his breath deepening.
“Guess you’re on thin ice, princess.” He leaned in, and pecked Minho’s lips from above your shoulder. He then turned slightly, and spoke in your ear. “You have ten minutes to go get those drinks. Go up the VIP platform right after, like the good girl you are, mmh?”
His hum almost echoed through your body, falling into an endless pit of arousal that those two gorgeous men had created, now able to make you feel hot and bothered in just a cheeky wink or a deep look.
Making you oh so weak for them. Only them.
“Heard that, kitten?” Minho smirked, lovingly kissing your cheek, as close as he could to the corner of your lips. “Ten minutes. Tick-tock.”
You tried heading towards the bar without your knees giving out as they both moved away, and instantly missed their warmth and strong hold on your body. But before you could even try, Chris tsked, pulling you back to him and almost fiercely planting a deep kiss that lit fire on your body, and almost made you whine when he pulled away, biting your lip.
“Fuck.” He gasped, feeling breathless. “Make that five minutes for daddy, yeah?”
And with a tap on your hips and a teasing wink, he left, following where Minho had gone.
You were unable to wipe the giddy smile off your face, feeling your cheeks get hot, and you patted them, hoping that your slightly cooler hands would do something to low it down.
Shaking your head lightly, you waved at the bartender, a tall, blond and handsome young man, and he gave you a kind smile. You sat on the stool closest, and he approached you, leaning on the counter.
“Nice seeing you here for a change.” He said with a snicker.
“Wish I could say the same, Hyunjin.” You wiggled your eyebrows almost dramatically, making him laugh.
“Your three usuals, beautiful?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. “Comin’ right up.”
You watched as he gracefully started to show off his abilities, passing drinks and metal cups and bottles in flashes and zooms, controlling every move so swiftly.
But then, you felt a hand on your waist.
“Sorry, scooching up real quick…” said a low voice from behind you.
His hands brushed your back, making you shiver. But it was a bad shiver. One that swiped away the giddiness your boys had left, but not as quickly as your smile took off.
The bold man dizzily sat on a stool that could’ve easily been a foot or two away, and your body relaxed easily at the new-formed distance.
You stared at him in a mix of slight disgust and raw astonishment. Used to your boys and the rest of the group, or people like Hyunjin, one could easily forget that people weren’t always respectful, nice and kind.
He noticed your blank stare, and misinterpreted it as interest. With a wide smile, he bent down, grabbing one of the legs of the stool you were sitting on, and smoothly moved it closer to his.
Another shiver ran through your back, goosebumps showing on your skin.
He smiled, and you held back a frown.
“Besides looking that sexy, what else do you do for a living?”
yikes.
That line didn’t only give you the ick, but you also noticed Hyunjin physically flinched, which made you snort, quickly covering your mouth.
The man was so drunk. You could smell it on his breath, and the guy looked rather pathetic. You didn’t feel too sorry for him, but wanted him as far as possible, and you moved to the edge of your stool.
The man looked proud of your giggles, but grew restless when you didn’t reply, so he took a sip from the glass of whiskey in front of him, kind of as if he hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.
You sat up straight, glaring at Hyunjin so he’d call security if things turned complicated, and he winked at you as a form of reassurance.
“Do you, eh, come here often?” He blurbed out.
You looked at your hands, staring at your nails, and waited for a second before giving him a side-eye from above your shoulder, slender eyes looking uninterested.
Quickly going back to your nails, you shrugged. “Enough to know that you don’t.” You brushed off coldly.
If you did, you’d know that I’m happily taken.
He stammered, his breath hitched, and you could almost feel him start getting even more nervous, as well as slightly angry.
“Huh? Why’s that?” He scoffed, eyebrows raised at you, who again, didn’t bother to look at him, a bit wary of his moody attitude.
Hyunjin smiled at you, coldly glaring at the clueless man next to you as he swiftly left the three drinks in place, pressing the red button underneath the counter to call for help.
The man smirked, going back to a confidence you didn’t want to know where he had gotten.
Placing his arm sneakily on your waist.
Huh?
“All those for you?”
Before you could react and slap him for his unrequested bold actions, you heard a grunt behind you.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
At that moment, Chan wasn’t so sure if he was the pacific one in your relationship.
He trusted you and your ability to set your own boundaries, by any means necessary, even if it meant slapping someone across the face.
And he knew them by heart. He had watched how you grimaced, trying to take this drunkard’s hands away from you.
So he helped you by slapping them off your body.
As ‘gently’ as he could.
“Move aside.” He said in a low growl, failing to relax until you moved your hand and took his, squeezing it as a way of thanking him.
Instead of getting the hint, the man frowned.
“Hey, if you can’t tell, I was trying to—”
Minho scoffed, appearing behind the man.
“Keep babbling around our girl and I’ll give you a story to tell.” He said in a dark, low tone of voice, eyes and tongue so sharp that they could almost pierce right through the man. “Now shoo.”
Security came by a minute after and apologized for not taking care of him before, then fined him, following the nightclub’s rules and finally kicked the man out.
One of the security guys approached the three of you, and bowed swiftly, apologizing.
“I’m really sorry. This guy has already annoyed some other customers before. I’ll speak to the owner of the place and see if there is something we can do regarding his situation. As for you, miss…” He gave you his card, and you smiled at him, bowing your head gently.
“My name is Seo Changbin. If you ever need anything…” he sighed, a hand to his nape, the buff man slightly flustered. “Don’t hesitate to call me. I can’t think of another way to compensate you…”
Chan smiled, and shook hands with the security guard.
“No need to worry, mate. It’s fine now.” He stated calmly, his other hand still engulfing yours.
Minho bowed at him, his arm around your waist, as if trying to erase any marks or traces of the drunkard’s touch.
“Home, love?” He said in a gentle whisper, kissing your temple after you nodded. “S’okay.”
Minho opened the door to the car for you, and Chan’s hand never left your thigh the whole way back home.
As soon as you got back, you let out a tired sigh.
Chris hugged you from behind, and you melted under his touch. With a soft grin, Minho ushered Chan’s arms away from you, and swiftly took you in his arms.
“Sleepy?” The older one asked, but you shook your head. You didn’t want the night to end on this note. “Then I’ll go get something. You guys get going.” He smiled at you, eyes soft as he lovingly stroke your cheek, your face resting on Minho’s shoulder.
With a slight smirk, he patted Minho’s butt, and headed to his studio.
“Bang Chan!” He whisper-yelled, ears red, and you chuckled lowly.
“Cheeky little baby.” Minho cooed at you, heading to your shared room, and you giggled softly, hiding your head on the crook of his neck. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”
You moved your head from his neck and pecked his lips. Minho took you to bed, and tenderly took your heels off.
“Shower?” He asked softly, but you shook your head no, so he nodded, taking off your dress. With a cat-like grin, his fingers went back to your thighs.
“You have to wear these more often, you little tease.” He snickered, and you smiled, blushing softly. “You look so good in everything.” He said, stroking your cheek.
Chan quickly came back, fluffy blankets and laptop with him.
“Movie night!” He smiled, almost childishly, and both your and Minho’s heart tugged on your chests.
They took their fancy clothes off and put on sleeveless shirts and the matching pyjama pants you had gifted them for Christmas, who were at first meant as a joke, but remained being used just because how comfy they were.
There, snuggled between Chan and Minho, you smiled, taking both of their hands.
“I’m hungry.” You said, pouting unconciously.
“We can make popcorn if you want.” Christ suggested, pausing the movie.
You sat in your knees, looking at them with a smirk.
Minho smirked back, starting to guess where this was headed.
“What do you want to eat, kitten?”
You snickered.
“I want to have ramen.”
~kats, who hopes everyone understood that kdrama reference just now ;););););)
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zzprompto · 7 months
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☆ our teachers are gay?!
gojo satoru x male reader [he / him]
sypnosis: you and gojo are both teachers at tokyo jujutsu high. your students start catching up on little things about the two of you, coming to a conclusion that their teachers are gay, but is that the truth? (meant to be viewed as romantic, hints at an established relationship.)
the lowercase is intentional !
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satoru and [name] had been teaching at tokyo jujutsu high for a few years now. the two have made memories, had laughs and even arguments during the time. the students loved their teachers, always finding them amusing.
this years first years were a first, though.
"he's definitely gay!" a student yells. "no, he's not! he definitely has a wife and two kids!" another student yells. the person that they were talking about? [name]. itadori and nobara were arguing about whether or not they thought their teacher was gay for their other teacher or not, whilst megumi just sat there listening to their bickering. nobara thought [name] was gay, whereas itadori thought he wasn't.
megumi just sat there, listening to his friends arguing. it was constant, but he knew it was just banter after all. megumi had a small smirk on his face as he listened.
megumi knew the truth, well, half of the truth. he knew of gojo's feelings towards [name], but he never knew of [name]'s feelings towards gojo. megumi and gojo were practically father and son, not that megumi would admit that, so he could tell how gojo felt. megumi was the only reserved first year, so he learnt to pick up on people's emotions and feelings quickly, which included gojo's.
it was clear, by megumi's perception of the world, that gojo was definitely into [name]. gojo always tried to, and not so subtly in fact, flirt with [name]. yet, it always ended up in [name] saying a bunch of curses with a red face. maybe [name] did like gojo back? but, how was megumi going to know? he's not [name] and maybe the red face megumi always saw was just his teacher embarrassed, not flustered.
megumi also noticed how close the two teachers were. there were always together eating lunch or talking or supervising training sessions where they also talked more. perhaps it was because they could only talk to eachother, they were the only teachers there excluding the principal. or.. maybe it was something else? it did seem like there was more of a rivalry going on between the two men in megumi's eyes, but who knew. only gojo and [name] did.
a certain someone clears their throat after hearing all the bickering down the corridor. "and what are you three talking about?" the voice asks, and it just so happens to be gojo. itadori and nobara are in big trouble now.
itadori looks at gojo in horror, already accepting that he's been caught. nobara just looks at gojo with a small, innocent smile, hoping itadori won't mess up and say something wrong.
"uhm.. we were just talking about [name]'s love life-" itadori starts before nobara jabs him in the stomach to get him to shut up. "we were discussing what places we can visit in tokyo during our days off!" nobara cut in. gojo had a smirk plastered on his face. it was so obvious that he knew the truth about what they were talking about.
megumi sighed and he rolled his eyes at his two friends. "you idiots.. look at his face. he knows what you two were talking about." megumi muttered under his breath, shaking his head at how stupid his friends were. "plus.. his six eyes probably sensed you guys were talking about [name] anyway." megumi decides to add his own snarky comment.
"ah, so my suspicions were true." gojo chuckled. "if you really want to find out more about [name], why don't you ask him yourselves? although, he'd probably want to punch me if you told him i suggested the idea.." gojo spoke his thoughts aloud.
as if on queue, [name] steps into the room with a confused look on his face. "what are you all standing around here for? i thought training was meant to start ten minutes ago.." he sighed, a hand resting on his hip. the three first years all look at eachother before rushing out of the room to go to the field.
[name] just shook his head as he watched his students leave. "what were you doing in here with them, satoru? because it definitely wasn't reminding them that training was about to start." [name] said, looking at gojo as he spoke. gojo just shrugged at [name]'s question, starting to follow the first years out to the field.
the first years quickly got to training. they were practicing their cursed technique skills and hand to hand combat whilst [name] and gojo kept a close eye. the two teachers were standing close together, smiling as they occasionally made small talk.
"so, what about that date i was talking about earlier?" gojo pipes up, smiling at [name]. [name] just scoffed in response, punching gojo in the shoulder. "don't ask me about dates whilst we're infront of our students, satoru." [name] chuckled and gojo joined in.
gojo then snaked an arm around [name]'s waist, pulling him in closer and giving him a small kiss on the forehead. "okay, okay. but we're still going on that date after work, right?" gojo asks. "you're not helping yourself!" [name] replies, pushing gojo away with a huge smile on his face.
of course, the three first years saw this play out. when gojo and [name] thought they were being so subtle, they were caught in the act. the three first years stopped what they were doing and stared at their teachers in shock.
gojo and [name] just watched their students with smiles on their faces. gojo still had his arm wrapped around [name]'s waist as he pulled his lover in for a kiss, not caring about their students. they had already been caught, so what was the harm in sharing a kiss in the end?
"see! i told you he's gay! you owe me big time, itadori!" nobara yells out, starting to chase itadori around the field.
☆ author's note: ill try get requests done soon, sorry if you're waiting on one. do request some more, i have barely any ideas of my own.
☆ request ▪︎ masterlist
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mistydeyes · 8 months
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So we had soap cousin how about ghost cousin x tf boys Hcs? She’s older than Simon and the two are super close. She would’ve been a barrier between him and his dad growing up. I can picture him being the least pissed at Price, meanwhile he’d be raging at Gaz and Soap. Soap would call her a milf and Simon has to be held back like a rabid dog
I’d love to see your take on this 🥰
ahhh I love this idea so much! thank you for reading my post about soap's cousin and requesting this :)
last name: riley
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summary: Despite Ghost trying to keep his family history secret, he can't avoid it when you, his older cousin, is transferred to his base. Now he has to keep his team in check as they want to get to know you more ;)
pairing: Task Force 141 (except Ghost) x fem!Reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of emotional abuse/trauma
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following the briefing, Gaz and Soap exited and invited Ghost to join them at the mess hall
however before Ghost could leave, Price stopped him at the door
"Can you stay back, Simon?" Price asked and everyone immediately knew something was up
especially when first names were used
being the nosy sergeants that they are, Soap and Gaz waited by the door and tried to listen in
after 10 minutes, Ghost emerged and looked surprisingly calm
"What was that about?" Soap asked as he tried to keep up with Ghost
"My cousin is getting transferred to one of the unit's on base" he said plainly and he was bombarded with questions
both Gaz and Soap were amazed that he had a cousin, especially one who he didn't seem to hate
eventually, Ghost slams his bedroom door on him and they're both left wondering what you're like
"God I hate the English weather," you complained as you arrived by helo to your new home
after months abroad, your captain decided to reassign you to the UK
you were initially upset but when you learned your cousin was also stationed there, your mood changed
"Is that little Simon Riley I see?" you exclaimed, seeing your cousin standing a few meters away
you slung your duffle on your back and ran towards him
despite being a good half foot taller than you, you hugged him tightly
"It's good to see you, Si," you said as you couldn't remember the last time you saw him
he returned it awkwardly as you took a look at his attire
"Still wearing that awful mask I see," you joked, lightly punching him on the shoulder
as you were chatting on the way to your quarters, you could see a man around your age leading two sergeants behind him
despite the captain's stern look, the two sergeants walked up to you and bombarded you with questions
"Sorry ma'am, they heard you were the Lieutenant's cousin and were trying to sneak out to meet you" he apologized and you laughed heartily
"What a welcome committee!" you smiled before looking back at them, "I'm Captain Riley."
as you introduced yourself and got to know Simon's team, they noted how you and Ghost shared different hair colors but the same piercing gaze
they also noted how you looked like you should be on the army's website with your light hair and hazel eyes as well as your fit physique
you also were much kinder than their Ghost and your smile brightened the drab hallway
"Riley?" one of them asked and you nodded, "our dads were brothers."
queue more questions about Simon's family history
while he tried to silence them, you were more than happy to answer a few of their questions
"Our dads were absolute arseholes, he sent me to live with Simon and I'd get into screaming matches with his old man," you explained
Simon remembered the times you were sent to Manchester and how you were the only one who could keep up with his father's insults and emotional abuse
despite being 5 years younger than you, he would follow you around and act like your best friend
you were surprised when you saw him after he joined the army and he was pure muscle (no longer the small boy who you would sneak out to get sweets with)
"His dad made basic seem like holiday" you joked, trying to lighten the mood
you answered a few more questions about you previous post before you began to yawn due to the jet lag
"Well it was a pleasure to meet you, Captain Riley," Price said shaking your hand
"Glad to see Simon is doing well here," you beamed, "now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find my quarters"
As you walked away you could hear Gaz and Soap chatting with Simon. "You didn't tell us your cousin's a bonnie lass," Soap exclaimed, a little too loud for Simon's comfort, "she got a mans in Manchester?" You smiled at the compliment, making sure to walk extra slow to hear it all. While both sergeants were undeniably attractive, plenty of men had acted the same way to you during the course of your career. Before Simon could reply, you could hear Gaz interject. "How old is she?" he asked innocently. "Too old for either one of you," Price interrupted, "and she's a captain so that's far above your ranks." Out of Simon's task force, you assumed you were the closest in age to Price. You tried to do the mental math being 5 years older than Simon but decided it wasn't worth it as Simon would never let any of them speak to you again. As Gaz and Soap groaned lightly, you thought the conversation was over. However, Soap had one last thing to say. "That's a proper milf if I've ever seen one," he mumbled before you could hear Simon let out a string of insults and swears. You smiled to yourself, "guess Si finally learned how to stand up for himself."
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opennwindows · 7 months
Note
If you can, could I request BEN Drowned fluff / smut headcanons like about himself, with his headcanon age, hobbies, facts, what he is into or would like & want in a relationship, and what he would be like with a gamer girlfriend/ s/o?
If ya taking requests rn still?✨😇😊💖
Ben Drowned general + NSFW hcs
A/N: yes!! absolutely. i love getting to talk about how the pastas do their pastaing in my mind. i have so many headcanons for everyone that im excited to share!! also sorry i forgot to include the gamer gf part but i don't think it would change a lot of what i wrote!!
btw sorry for fucking dying i have been busy 😭😭 but no one worry i will still continue to work on requests!! if anyone has any marble hornets stuff they wanna request i will zoom you to the front of the queue so fucking quick. anyways enough of me yapping.
cw: 18+ nsfw, toxic relationships, crying kink,
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GENERAL
ben is mentally and physically 22, but he can be quite emotionally immature at times. when he died he never stopped growing and maturing, his soul was just stuck in limbo. think like the worst waiting room ever.
he's surprisingly tall, standing at about 5'9. he's lanky but not bone thin. could easily get pretty far in a fight without his ghost powers.
the link costume only appears when he’s in his ghost form. so for example, when he’s messing with someone on their computer he’ll appear as the canon BEN we’re most familiar with. when he’s just chilling in his physical body, he mostly wears beat up hoodies and sweatpants.
contrary to popular belief, ben's not the hardcore gamer everyone thinks he is. sure, he'll play some overwatch or whatever when he's bored but he honestly just prefers to watch tv and browse the internet. understandably REFUSES to play any zelda games. if you were trapped in a video game for decades would you ever wanna touch it again? exactly.
ben loves to draw little comics and troll (see: horrifically traumatize) people online. god forbid you get into twitter beef with this man because he will crawl through your monitor at 3am and leave you with a crippling fear of technology. dude thinks it's absolutely hilarious. a true knee slapper.
lowkey has a sugar addiction. will slam down 4 cans of pepsi in one sitting. he's very lucky that he's basically a ghost because the kidney stones would be plentiful.
ROMANTIC
you know that guy with the blown out speakers in his car, lives off of energy drinks and burnt blue razz ice elfbars, swears aphex twin is the modern mozart and works on the grill at your local wendy’s? yeah thats ben. or at least would be him if he was still human.
“why would you need a chair, my lap is literally right here babe.”
would absolutely wear your skin if given the opportunity. not in a weird way. he’s just EXTREMELY touchy.
he needs someone who is significantly more organized and motivated than him. he can go almost a week without showering and it should honestly be considered biological warfare when he tries to smother you with affection during these episodes.
after awhile of you guys dating he LOVES the idea of y’all showering together. he has a fear of water and while showers aren’t too much of a trigger, your presence helps ease his anxiety.
favorite pet names: bro, dude, dawg, babe, bitch (non derogatory)
not really a romantic but he tries his best. a perfect date for him is just getting some takeout, watching youtube, talking about stupid shit and play fighting. if you want something more traditional or extravagant then he’ll oblige to make you happy but those types of dates make him feel quite suffocated and nervous. try to save those for special occasions.
now let’s talk about his problems because just like the other creeps he is ANGSTY.
he’s probably the most emotionally stable and healthiest of the group but he definitely still has his toxic traits, after all this man is a ghost that mentally tortures and kills his victims through manipulation.
ben would never ever get physical with his partner no matter how enraged he is but he absolutely is the type to do some mental damage when he gets carried away. ben drowned? more like ben gaslighted.
the type to say some shit that would keep you up for years and then kiss you the next morning like the argument never happened. he finds it easier to ignore problems than to actively talk and fix them. you’re gonna have to teach him some important communication skills or else you’ll grow to resent him after all the bottled up rage.
a bit too brutally honest and blunt for his own good so if you have thin skin the relationship would fall apart pretty quickly. he wants someone who can drag him twice as hard as he dragged you. bonus points if your insults are consistently funny as hell.
please watch anime with him and discuss it. he would propose on the spot, especially if you play with his hair.
pro player tip: if you want him to clean his disgusting room, help him and make it fun! he just needs a little push and motivation at times. and being around you makes him want to get his shit together.
big fan of late night make-out sessions. i’m talking like 45 minutes straight of just slobbering on each other’s faces with tongues down throats. if you don’t want his hands running over every inch of your body then you’ll probably have to chain him to the wall.
NSFW
okay. so he’s a little inexperienced with his hands. he’s just a slow learner. be vocal with him about what you like!!
ben's about 7inches and slightly skinnier than average but he will have you seeing stars in record time. the dick game is no joke. he tends to go fast and deep most times.
i can see him being a switch in the idgaf-as-long-as-i’m-fucking way. dude will go with the flow and will try mostly anything.
definitely one of the least aggressive pastas during sex. he has sadistic tendencies but he’s more of a edge/overstimulate you until you cry versus a beat the shit out of you and rip hair out of your scalp type. he’s pretty vanilla given his occupation.
despite his love of roasting the fuck out of you on a daily basis, the only words that come out of this man’s mouth is heavenly praise. he looks at you like you’re the most gorgeous being on the planet and he’ll let you know it.
he loves to whisper praises into your ear while you ride him.
he's more of a receiver than a giver when it comes to oral. he'll absolutely spend hours between your legs if given the chance but nothing beats the sight of you on your knees and teary eyed with his length in your mouth.
he can be a bit of a head pusher but just let him face-fuck you every now and then, hearing his loud moans will be worth it.
did i mention how much of a crying kink this man has? you guys could be on round three and if he stares at your teary eyed fucked-out face for longer than 10 seconds he'll immediately get hard again. you'll have to beg him to give your poor body a break.
he's also into choking but only if he's the one doing it. if you try to restrict his breathing he'll panic and the mood would get ruined.
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Text
Alastor + apprentice!child!reader
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A/n: this is some practice to get a footing in his character. (Also slight practice on husk as well.)
Reader is kinda scary but means well overall
Not proofread
Y/n ever elusive. Alastor would randomly mention your name in conversations. References your rampages and your sweetness in the same breath. But when anyone would try to quiz him on you further he would act like he didn't know what they were talking about. He might try to claim it's for privacy but it's pretty obvious he just likes messing with hotel members.
Charlie was especially sad that she might never get to meet you. If Alastor was to be believed you seemed really sweet! (And easy to rehabilitate *cough* *cough*) Also cool! You seemed to be an absolute powerhouse. After Al mentioned you Charlie got somewhat mopey. Until he mentioned you visiting the hotel, which piqued everyone's interest.
When you finally showed up, people's interest was at an all-time high. But now it was because the fabled y/n was a child. "It's a pleasure to be meeting everyone!" You were looking at Alastor but were speaking to the whole room. "I've heard so much about all of you!"
"They've also heard much about you too, dearie." Alastor bent at the waist down to your level. "You've become quite the hot topic here!"
As if to prove his point Charlie picked you up and spun you around almost hitting Alastor in the face. He glared at her but remained calm. "Welcome, welcome! Do you want to choose a room to stay in?"
"Sorry, but I'm not planning to stay."
"I know but just for the time being." Charlie clarified. To that, you nodded. Husk snapped his head toward The Radio Demon once both you and Charlie had left.
"Did you really stoop low enough to make a deal with a child?" He was just barely containing his anger. While he didn't particularly care for those he didn't know at least somewhat personally, taking a child's soul was a place he drew a thick line.
"Why of course not!" He said sounding offended but clearly, it was to mock Husk. "They are under my guidance purely by choice!" Vaggie and Husk both said some version of 'you're a liar' in unison. Alastor simply tsked as he walked away.
Niffty seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Was thas thay y/n?"
After the crew (excluding Husk) let out a yelp, Vaggie spoke, "Yep."
Niffty let out a villain-esque laugh, though that was just her usual laugh, "I've been meaning to talk to them since they scared off a group of bad boys~" She flashed her sharp teeth and held a knife. Angel grabbed the knife and her before she could get very far.
Back with you and Charlie Alastor materialized next to you and you waved at him.
"Hello, sir!" You saluted him as a joke.
"Hello to you too! Have you found a room?" You nodded and entered said room. Charlie looked at him, her face painted with a confused yet kind look.
"They're the one who hurt so many people? Are you kidding? They are so nice."
"You've never seen them in danger." Suddenly as if on queue an explosion was heard. You shot up from your surprisingly comfortable bed and ran downstairs. Pushing both Charlie and Alastor out of the way while also throwing a quick ‘sorry’ their way.
Once you got downstairs the bad boys that Niffty mentioned earlier were spouting something about you. Once they looked at you they pulled weapons out. You grew and your arms turned pitch black with a slight claw shape. With your new size, you were just big enough to grab them to the point of almost cracking bones. Almost.
"Leave." You said with a deep booming voice that came with the size. You threw them and they scrambled. Once they were gone you shrunk back down to your normal size. Niffty pouted and stamped her foot.
Once you turned everyone had varying looks of shock on their face except Niffty and of course, Alastor who was instead proud. "Congrats dear! Would you like some jambalaya?" You nodded.
As you were walking with him Husk grabbed your shoulder, "Um good job kid... If he ever offers you a deal, don't take it." He felt obliged to warn you. If Alastor's moral code was against recruiting kids, he probably would have pounced on the opportunity to take your soul once you were an adult.
You smiled, "I know I know. But what could I even gain out of any deal with him?" You laughed and walked back to Alastor. Huh. Well, you certainly were being tutored by Alastor.
A/n: Y/n got kinda of edgy at the end-
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1-800-hwahui · 1 year
Text
match of the season
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member  |  college student radio host!junhui x fem student!reader genre  |  smut, fluff, humor word count  |  ~7,300 warnings  |  virgin!jun, shy clueless jun, fr that man does not know a single thing but it's endearing in a silly way, top!reader bot!jun (but no real dom/sub dynamics, more like reader leads until jun figures out how to take over), unprotected sex, jun big cock agenda, VOICE KINK (listen. you all knew it was coming), so much dirty talk, lots of consent bc it is very sexy, riding, little bit of dry humping?, mentions of an iud/birth control, jun is implied taller than reader (maybe size kink but only if you take it that way), jeonghan cameo and he's a menace, lots of fluff at the end (but also kinda throughout), please lmk if i missed any warnings! notes  |  this is a nsfw sequel to a sfw fic on my main writing blog @junkissed called sounds of the season, which is part of my series of winter-themed fics! if you haven't already, i would highly recommend reading that before reading this, since the stories are pretty closely connected. thanks to @onlymingyus for reading over this for me <3 i hope you all enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the first part. also like i said in part 1 i have no idea how radio works so if it doesn't make sense just roll with it lmao
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you’re just putting the last finishing touches on your final paper when your phone buzzes. you glance down, grinning when you see junhui’s name on the screen.
unable to hide the butterflies in your stomach, you press a button to accept the call. “hi, junnie.”
“oh! hi,” his voice plays through your speaker with a giggle. “hey, i like that. ‘junnie’. do you want a nickname? but your name is so pretty, i don’t wanna change it–”
“whatever you want is fine,” you say, trying to hold back a smile. god, he’s cute.
“okay. i’ll think about it. oh, wait, yeah!” he says suddenly, as if he’s just remembered why he’s calling. “jeonghan left town early this week so it’s just me in the studio today, and it’s our last show of the semester. so anyway, do you wanna come over?” he stops, stumbling over his words. “well, not like, come over come over, i mean, we can just hang out, i–”
“give me half an hour,” you laugh, endeared by his eagerness.
“yay!” he cheers, and you shake your head with a smile.
half an hour later, a text pops up on jun’s phone, alerting him that you’re waiting outside the building. he leaps out of his chair, an excited grin on his face as he flings open the door and dashes downstairs to let you in.
he’s out of breath by the time he reaches the communications lab door, leaning on the push bar to let you in. “sorry, forgot they locked it already,” he pants.
“it’s fine,” you giggle. “so… everyone else is gone?”
he nods. “yeah, mr. choi said as long as i don’t mess with anything he’ll let me close by myself, so they all left early for break.”
you smile and hold out your hand for him to take, and he beams, hastily grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.
he leads you up the stairs to the sound booth, squeezing your hand the whole way.
it’s your second time being in the school’s recording studio, but the feeling is still new and exciting. you definitely understand now what jun meant when he said being around all the equipment is a lot of fun.
once inside, he shuts the heavy door with a click, locking the door and flipping on the “on air” light. not that anyone could get in anyway, but it’s a habit he doesn’t want to accidentally get out of before he comes back next semester.
he slides in front of the computer for a second, queueing another song so he has more time to grab what he’s designated as “your chair”; the comfiest one in the studio, according to him.
he pulls it over next to his chair and pats the cushion for you to sit. you giggle and plop down on the seat, scooching closer to him once he’s sat in his own chair.
he raises his eyebrows at you with a grin, then clears his throat and moves closer to the microphone as the song ends to do his job.
ever since you accidentally admitted to him that you like the way his voice sounds, he’s teased you about it—or at least, attempted to tease you about it. he's too sweet for his own good, so even when he tries to poke fun at you it comes out like a compliment.
he presses the red button and begins to talk. “that was one of the classics, ‘a holly jolly christmas’ by burl ives. coming up next, another favorite, ‘the christmas song’ by michael bublé, and more great songs on your favorite program: 111.7fm’s sounds of the season.”
he lets go of the button and sits back in his chair, spinning it around to face you as the slow music starts softly playing. “hi,” he says shyly. “did you like that?”
you smile. it’s a little bit of an odd question, but you’ve started to understand his awkwardness; he just needs a little encouragement. “i always like it. you’re really good at this.”
“i like it a lot,” he grins back, bouncing his head in excitement. “can i kiss you now?”
you laugh at his enthusiasm but nod, leaning forward to press your lips to his. he sighs into your mouth, his hands falling naturally to your waist. for supposedly not going out much, jun is really, really good at kissing, you’ve quickly learned over the last few days. how he got so good at it, you may never know, but the feeling of him pressed against you is too perfect to waste time questioning why.
despite being surrounded by the cold, metal recording equipment, the sound of michael bublé’s crooning voice and the gentle warmth of junhui’s lips makes the studio feel like the coziest place on earth.
his hands tug at your waist and you slide easily out of your chair and onto his lap, sitting sideways across his legs, never breaking the kiss.
he pulls away for a second, his cheeks dusted with pink. “let me… put the playlist on,” he says, his voice a little breathier than usual. 
you hum in confusion, attention still focused on the curve of his lips and the little noises he makes when he’s kissing you. “what playlist?”
he laughs. “for the show. so we can keep doing… this, and not have to worry.”
“wait, so you mean, not all of it is live?”
he shakes his head. “almost all of it is, but there’s a backup playlist in case we get busy and can’t sit around pressing buttons for the whole hour. i used it a couple weeks ago when i had to finish my chem paper.”
he spins the chair around, facing you both in front of the computer screen and tapping a few buttons on the keyboard. he turns a dial on the soundboard and the background music in the studio gets lower, so quiet you need to strain to hear it.
he hums, and your attention turns away from the machinery and back to his eager smile.
“can i kiss you again?” he asks softly.
you giggle and put your hands around his neck. “you don’t have to ask every time.”
so he’s pushing his lips on yours again, kissing you like you’re the most delicate thing in the world.
and that’s when you feel it. the butterflies deep in your stomach that make you want to do things no person should be doing in a school building.
he pulls away for a second to catch his breath. “you’re so pretty,” he says dreamily, and you hate the way it immediately sends shivers down your spine, landing directly at your core. 
you hold back a whimper and shift the way you’re sitting, moving so each leg is on either side of his legs, straddling his lap.
he pushes his mouth against yours, hands gently kneading your hips. your fingers dance beneath the bottom of his shirt, fingernails gliding over the warm, soft skin of his stomach and feeling his abs contract at your touch.
“wait,” he whimpers, and you pull back immediately, taking your hands off of him and putting them on your thighs.
“do you want me to stop?” you ask quietly. shit, you hope you haven’t completely ruined this by going too fast.
“no!” he nearly shouts, looking panicked, then clears his throat. “no,” he repeats. “i don’t want you to stop. i’m, just…” he trails off, avoiding your gaze.
“you can tell me, junnie,” you say gingerly, wanting him to be comfortable.
“i know,” he whines. “i’m… embarrassed,” he says, voice small.
“i’m not going to laugh at you,” you say softly.
“i’m not– i haven’t–” he freezes. you give him a small smile that you hope looks encouraging, and it must be, because he sighs and starts again. “i’m a… virgin,” he says, barely above a whisper.
“oh! that’s all?” you ask, taking his hand and threading your fingers in between his. he looks up at you, trying (and failing) to hide the surprise in his expression. “you don’t need to be embarrassed. everybody has a first time.”
you pause, not wanting to force him into doing this if he really isn’t ready. you don’t care, you have plenty of ways of getting yourself off if he wants to wait longer. because you are willing to wait. “we don’t have to now, junnie,” you say. “i’ll wait as long as you want me to.”
“i want to now,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “i just… don’t know what to do,” he mumbles.
“that’s fine,” you whisper, bringing your other hand up to his face and kissing his cheek tenderly. “we’ll go slow, and you tell me what you want.”
he hesitates, then tentatively places his hands on your waist, still holding your hands. “i want to kiss you again.”
you smile. “i can do that.”
and you lean back in, pressing your lips to his. gently at first, until he grips your waist a little harder and starts kissing you a little deeper. you let him get used to it, allowing him to set the pace he wants.
testing the waters, you push down on his lap a little, starting to grind lightly on his crotch. he whimpers and tugs at your hips to help you, beginning to fall into a steady rhythm. 
you stay like this for a while, leisurely making out on his lap, for longer than you normally would with someone else. but this isn’t someone else, this is junhui, and you’re more than content going as slow as he wants. plus, all this is just making you wetter and wetter as time goes on, riling you up the more you think about what’s to come later.
you can feel him getting harder underneath you, and you moan into him, eagerly but patiently waiting for him. his hands climb up your back, hooking around your shoulders and pulling you almost completely flush with his chest.
he pulls away after a minute, lips red and puffy from the contact and breathing hard. “don’t– you need a c-condom, when… so you, don’t get pregnant?” he stutters out, struggling to get the words out and to stop from bucking his hips against you.
“i have an iud, it’s alright,” you say, also panting for breath.
“okay.” he exhales and leans back, letting go of your hips.
you look at him in confusion at his sudden pause. “why…?”
he stares at you. “uh, don’t you have to go put it in? or did you do that before you got here?”
you snort. “my iud? no, it’s in all the time. it doesn’t come out.” 
“oh,” he says, his cheeks flushing pink. “sorry, i didn’t know–”
“it’s okay, junnie. don’t apologize,” you say, trying your hardest to hold back a laugh. poor sweet, oblivious junhui. you’re not laughing at him, you’re laughing at how adorably clueless he is. you find yourself hoping you might be the one to help him understand these things, if he wants you to.
“have you… before?” he asks shyly, avoiding your eyes again.
you pause, knowing he’s already embarrassed and trying to answer him as gently as possible. “yes,” you say finally, and his face droops a little at your response. “but that doesn’t mean anything. it’s my first time with you, too, so we’re learning about each other. that’s all it is. so just… don’t think about it, okay? the only thing i’m thinking about right now is you.”
his cheeks are a deep shade of pink, but he nods. you take his hands carefully and put them at the hem of your shirt, guiding him to pull it up and over your head. you unclasp your bra and turn around to toss it over to your chair.
“now your turn,” you say gently, looking up at his eyes, which are still focused on your boobs.
“ju-un,” you murmur in a sing-song voice, and his eyes snap back to your face. “do you want to keep going?” 
“yeah,” he chokes out. “i mean– yes. yes, please.”
you coo at his manners, moving off of his lap to wiggle your pants down your legs. his eyes are completely transfixed on your body, admiring every inch of you that he can see.
“do you want to now?” you ask, and he nods rapidly. he stands up and throws his shirt off, and his pants are quick to follow until he’s sitting back in his chair in only his boxers. the lines of his stomach seem even more defined in the low light of the studio, and you so desperately want to run your hands up and down his torso, and feel every inch of him, but– one thing at a time.
you slide your panties off and go back to your position straddling his lap. “is this okay?” you ask again.
“mhm,” he hums lowly, and you feel it deep in your abdomen, walls clenching around nothing at the sound.
his eyes dart around your face, and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair, tucking it gently behind his ear. “are you ready?” you ask softly.
his eyes widen, and he springs into action, his hands flying to your waist again. “oh! okay, yes, yes, um…”
you try not to giggle at his enthusiasm. you trail your hand carefully down to the waistband of his shorts, slipping the tip of your finger inside the elastic. “you have to take this off, junnie,” you whisper.
“mm, okay,” he whines, and you lift up a little so he can slide them down without standing up. he kicks them off and you sit back down, looking down to see what you’re working with. now that he’s fully hard, you can see that he’s… big, much bigger than you expected from a man this shy.
but who are you to judge, so you adjust on his lap, sitting up to reach below you and take his cock in your hand, positioning it at your entrance. he whimpers at the contact as you slowly drag his tip through your folds, spreading your wetness around. 
“you just sit here and let me do all the work, baby, okay?” you hum, gripping his shoulder with your other hand. “let me make you feel good, hm?”
he lets out a garbled noise in response, barely comprehending your words at how engrossed he is with the way you’re holding his cock so delicately, waiting to push it inside and finally feel you.
“junnie, need you to use your words, honey,” you say gently, moving the hand on his shoulder to lightly cup his jaw, lifting his chin so his gaze lands on your face. “you have to tell me if you don’t like something or you wanna do something different, okay?
“i wanna do you,” he says, staring blankly into your eyes, and that’s when you know he’s already gone.
you giggle. “i know, baby. you’re going to. but you have to talk to me.”
“‘cause you like my voice.”
you resist the urge to cringe, still embarrassed that that’s the thing he remembers about you. “yes, i do, but no, that's not why. you need to tell me if you want to stop, at any time, and we’ll stop, okay?”
hearing your tone get serious, he seems to snap out of it a little. “okay,” he whimpers. “can i…?”
he trails off, and you shake your head. you know he’s shy, but you can’t let him off the hook every single time, or else he’ll never learn. “can you what, honey? use your words.”
by now the tips of his ears have turned red, and he’s beginning to lose control, his hips starting to grind against you involuntarily. “can i… fuck you?” he rasps.
“of course you can,” you coo, slipping your hand behind his neck and kissing him gently. “good job, baby.”
he mewls at the praise, and you finally start to sink down on his cock. it burns at first with how girthy he is, but soon the stretch feels good, and you have to fight to keep yourself upright on his lap, soft whimpers escaping your lips.
he groans, throwing his head back against the back of his chair, his grip on your waist tightening. it takes some time, but you finally sit all the way down on his lap, legs splayed on either side of his hips.
immediately he thrusts up into you hard, and you yelp, pushing on his shoulders to get him to stop. “wait!” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut in pain. “just… wait a second first.”
“s-sorry,” he whines, his adam’s apple bobbing with each labored breath.
“s’okay,” you breathe, beginning to adjust to the feeling of his thick cock throbbing inside you. “you’re… big, gotta– gotta give me a second, oh my god.”
he hums absently, clearly pleased with your response, but he manages to stop moving for a little bit.
you sit still on top of him, your muscles gradually beginning to relax as you get used to the feeling.
he sighs, his hands sliding up your back, caressing your skin beneath his fingertips.  “feels so good, just wanna… fuck, just wanna be inside you forever.”
you would be surprised at the sudden lewdness of his words, if you weren’t so focused on the way the tone of his voice has abruptly dropped an octave. he’s starting to get more comfortable, you can tell, and you won’t lie: it’s dangerous for you.
“can– are you okay now?” he asks, eyes focused back on your face again.
“mhm,” you manage, letting out a short exhale. you start to wind your hips in circles, bouncing slowly on his lap as his hands roam your body, touching every inch of you as if he’s trying to memorize every last curve.
it’s a gentle pace; although much too slow for you, you’re hoping it’s just right for junhui to start out with. you’re not used to being on top, so you’re doing your best to keep up, but your thigh is starting to cramp from the position you’ve been sitting in and having to do the work yourself.
he must notice your discomfort, because his hands fall back down to their place at your waist, kneading your skin as he lifts his hips against you in rhythm.
“can i take over?” he mumbles, voice breathy. “please, let me, please.”
“yes, please,” you sigh, your head falling forward to rest on his chest. his skin is burning hot beneath your cheek, and you exhale, closing your eyes from exhaustion.
as soon as you relax and stop moving your hips, his own start moving immediately, your surprised cry punctuated by hard thrusts up into you, over and over again.
you’re still trying to figure out where the hell he got all this stamina from when he starts murmuring in your ear, sweet, dirty whispers as he pounds into you from below.
“you’re so… beautiful, oh my god,” he says in the low voice you’re still struggling to get used to hearing come out of his mouth. “you’re so good, wanna have you like this forever, please–”
“jun, ke–keep talking, please,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut in pleasure.
“you like my voice, but you sound so pretty right now,” he groans. “you should hear yourself. wanna hear you cry and make you feel so good, wanna hear you– god, wanna fuck you like this all day and never stop.”
you let out a moan, his words going straight through you. the rumble in his chest as he speaks reverberates against your head. 
the combination of his brutal pace along with the innocently filthy words from his mouth brings you right up to the edge, and you feel the knot in your abdomen tightening.
you shift a little, moving up so you can wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.
his hips falter for half a second at the contact, but he recovers quickly, wrapping his long arms around you and pressing you flush against his chest, jerking you up and down on his cock with fervor.
“you’re so pretty, you’re so beautiful, you’re so perfect,” he babbles, somehow remembering to keep talking you through everything. “love you so much– fuck, thank you, you’re so amazing, you’re so–”
you almost miss the four-letter word that slips out in between his praises, but it rings through your ears, nestling itself in your heart. you decide to ignore it for now, too focused on chasing your rapidly approaching high, but you promise yourself you’ll talk to him after this is all over and figure out what this is between you two.
you whine, breath catching in your throat as your own words tumble out of you in a constant stream. “keep going, jun, please– keep going, so close, please, junnie please, need you–”
“are you gonna cum? you’re so perfect, please cum for me, please, baby, lemme hear you.”
“fuck, yes!” and with that you’re catapulting over the edge with a sob, clenching around his cock as your orgasm slams into you.
he keeps thrusting into you, not once stuttering as he fucks you through your high, content to keep going and going and going until–
“jun,” you call out weakly, head swirling as you try to sit up. “jun. jun, you can s-slow down.”
his hips begin to stop, slowing down until he’s gently rocking you back and forth on his lap. “did you cum already?” he asks in surprise. like a dork.
you choke out a laugh, head lolling as your arms loosen around his neck. “yeah. yeah, i did.”
“oh.”
if you weren’t so exhausted already, you would burst out laughing. “you’ll figure it out,” you wheeze, hoping it sounds reassuring. 
he starts to move his arms to let go of you, still wrapped around your torso, but you whine and he freezes.
“just… stay here first,” you say, letting your eyes fall shut for a second.
“why?”
you sigh. “because it’s nice.”
“oh,” he says again. he settles back into the chair, holding you on his lap, arms wrapped around you, just sitting quietly.
after a few more seconds of peace you pull yourself upright, pushing your hands against his chest.
“ …what now?” he asks quietly, eyes finding your face.
“you didn’t cum yet, right?” you say. he hums out a no. “then we keep going.”
he yelps in surprise when you start to lift yourself off his lap, his still-hard cock slipping out of you, now soaked in your juices. “don’t we have to wait for you?”
you fight the urge to slap your hand over your forehead. “i can cum more than once, honey. we don’t need to wait,” you say with the straightest face you can muster.
he nods, taking in this clearly unheard of information.
“do you want me to suck you off?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you.
“wh-what?” he stutters, face turning red, clearly not expecting it.
you take in a deep breath. “where do you want to finish?” you try instead, thinking it might help him decide.
“where will you let me?” he replies, wide eyes searching yours as if it’s a trick question designed to make him fail and you’re hiding the answer somewhere in your tender gaze.
“wherever you want, junnie.”
he pauses, like he’s making sure you aren’t lying to him. “can–” he clears his throat and starts again, more sure of himself. “i have an, um… idea.”
“mhm,” you breathe, watching him expectantly.
“do you think i could, maybe… stand up? and, have– you, over the…” he trails off, gesturing to the empty table beside you and hoping you’ll understand what he’s trying to say.
“you want to bend me over and fuck me on the table?” you translate for him, blinking.
instantly his cheeks flare, the shyness returning. “well, i… i. no, um, uh–”
“you can say yes, junnie. it’s hot.”
“you think so?” he squeaks in shock.
you giggle. “yes. you can do whatever you want to, just ask me first.”
his face breaks out into a wide grin. “okay. will you please, um, follow me?” he asks, holding out his arm like a waiter leading you to a table at a restaurant. if he wasn’t so damn cute you definitely would’ve smacked him by now.
you finally move off of his lap and step away, giving him room to move from his chair. you’d forgotten how big he is until he stands up, towering over you, and it sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. he turns and starts walking away, expecting you to follow him.
you laugh and grab his arm, pulling him back. when he looks at you in curiosity, you take his large hands and place them on your waist, motioning for him to guide you.
his mouth falls into an ‘o’ and he follows your lead, pushing you by your hips over to the table.
he stands behind you, caging you in against the table with his tall frame but otherwise not doing anything. you glance over your shoulder at him, nodding in approval.
his hands leave your waist and ever so gently press on your lower back to tilt you over. you comply, letting him move you how he wants.
“is that good?” he asks softly.
“it’s great,” you say, wiggling your ass playfully. “good job asking.”
he hums, so low it’s more like a growl, and it sends another shiver down your spine. at this angle you can feel his dick pressed against your ass, hard and throbbing.
he grinds against you, dragging his cock up and down your hole. you know he’s not doing it intentionally to tease you—you’re not even sure if he’s capable of that—but it does plenty to rile you up.
“junnie, please?” you gasp out, writhing your hips in search of friction, anything. his grip tightens on you, stilling your movements.
“what do i do?” he whispers.
“put it in,” you whisper back, unable to stop the giggle that slips out. he whines in annoyance, so you stop, giving him real advice this time. “just go slow. you can do it, baby.”
you angle your ass up, hoping to give him better access to your dripping hole. he’s already been inside you once, so surely he can find it again… right?
your expectations are clearly too high, because suddenly you feel his tip pressing in between your ass cheeks, and he’s—
you yelp, and he freezes, his hands flying off of you. you reach behind and stick your index finger into your pussy, using the rest of your fingers to spread your folds apart so he can see. “this one, baby.” at least he was going slow, like you said.
“oh! sorry, i’m so sorry,” he mumbles, and even without looking you already know he’s redder than a tomato. 
“jun. don’t apologize. it’s okay,” you say softly. you move your hand away from your pussy and reach it out to him, craning your neck to see him. you wave your fingers at him, and he takes your hand, automatically twining his fingers with yours. it makes you smile. “just go for it, honey.”
“okay,” he breathes, and he starts slowly pushing into you again (the right one this time).
tiny gasps fall from your lips as you feel him fill you up again, stuffing you with his cock, inch by careful inch. once he bottoms out you exhale, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in.
when you don’t feel any more movement, you realize he’s stopped, waiting. you almost whine at how cute and considerate he is, but instead you just squeeze his hand. “baby, you can move.”
“okay,” he says again, and pulls out carefully before slowly pushing back in.
you moan as he starts to increase his pace, rapidly pumping into you as his hips smack against your ass. you arch your back a little, trying to angle him in deeper. each powerful thrust pushes you against the table, your hip bones hitting the edge in a way that’ll definitely leave bruises. but you can’t bring yourself to care when junhui’s thick cock is thrusting into you like his life depends on it. 
still holding onto his hand, you slip your other hand down to run your fingers over your clit, rubbing small circles. you can feel the pressure in your abdomen growing, and—
“fuck, you’re so tight,” jun groans, voice thick with need, and he begins pushing into you even harder than before, something you didn’t even think could be possible. you whine and move your hand from your clit back to the edge of the table to stop yourself from ramming into it.
he notices your elbow bent at an awkward angle to protect yourself, so he lets go of your hand and snakes around your stomach to pull you back so you’re standing upright, both his arms wrapped securely around your body. “feels so good… god, wish i had done this sooner, you’re so amazing, so perfect, for me.”
you whimper at his words, unintentionally clenching around him. “jun,” you cry out softly.
“fuck, baby, say my name again– please, like that, baby, please say it, again,” he begs you, fingers pressing into your skin that you’re sure will leave you covered in little oval-shaped bruises by the time he’s done.
“jun! please, i’m so close, jun,” you moan, repeating his name over and over again like a mantra, getting closer and closer to your release with each syllable.
“i’m cl-close too, baby, please… you’re so good, fuck! you’re so good.”
the constant praise is almost too much, and with one more sharp thrust you’re coming undone on his cock for the second time. your legs wobble as you struggle to stay standing, your hands coming up to hang on to junhui’s strong arms wrapped around you for support.
he whines loudly, and you know he must be getting close, too. “can i– can i cum on your back?” he pants out, still gripping you tightly. as much as he really, really wants to cum inside you, he figures it might be messier than cumming on you. and besides, he doesn’t want to get too greedy; it is only his first, after all.
“yes! yes please, yes, jun,” you manage, still wading through the aftershocks of your orgasm.
a little harder than he intends, he’s shoving you roughly down onto the table again, pulling his dick out of you to jerk himself over you.
“junnie, please,” you whimper out weakly, and the sweet sounding words on your lips have him choking back a sob as he cums, thick spurts of white painting your lower back.
he keeps moving his hand on his cock until he’s completely finished, panting heavily. by the time he’s done you’re both sticky with sweat, breathing like you’ve just run a marathon.
you let out a long sigh, feeling exhausted but satisfied. silence settles over the studio, the music long stopped, but you can’t tell if it’s a good silence or a bad silence.
you realize you’d closed your eyes while jun was cumming, and when you don’t feel his touch anymore, you slowly pry them open again, wondering where he went. 
you prop your head up in your hands and look behind you to see jun hastily pulling on his boxers and jeans. 
your jaw drops in horror. you’d thought, with his inexperience, he wouldn’t be like all the other guys who fuck and then take off, but apparently, you thought wrong.
“jun!”
his head whips around as he pulls his zipper up, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.
“are you seriously gonna just leave?”
his mouth falls open. “no! of course not! i was just putting my pants back on.”
your expression softens. “oh,” you say quietly, face flushing at having jumped to conclusions so quickly. “sorry.”
“why would i wanna leave after this?” he frowns, looking genuinely appalled at the mere idea that someone might do that. “you’re still here.”
“i thought, since–” you start, then pause. discussion for another time. “nevermind, it’s not important. but why were you putting your pants on like you were gonna leave?”
you’re the one feeling embarrassed, but it’s junhui that turns red and starts stuttering. “well, i– um, i didn’t want you to… see…”
you laugh and put your head back in your arms. when you don’t say anything, he calls out your name nervously, and you look back over at him.
“junnie, your dick was just in me. twice. i don’t care what it looks like.”
“okay,” he says shyly, but his fingers still fumble with the button of his jeans.
you sigh once he finishes adjusting his pants. whatever makes him more comfortable, you suppose. “jun, can you… help me clean up now, please?” you ask timidly.
he glances over at you, looking like he’s about to ask why you need help, but then he sees you still bent awkwardly over the table and his cum still covering your back, and his eyes widen. “oh! shit, yeah– yes, i’m so sorry, i will–” he stammers, almost tripping over his backpack in his hurry to go get a tissue from the box by the door.
you sigh, more exhausted than mad, knowing you can’t really fault him. he comes back over a second later, gripping a wadded-up handful of tissues.
he drops them on your back and begins wiping at your skin, gingerly cleaning you off. when he’s satisfied with his work, he balls up the tissues and tosses them into the small can by the door.
“oh!” he says, realizing. “i think we have antibacterial wipes in here too, do you want me to use one of those? er, wait, i don’t know if they’re safe for skin…”
with your back (mostly) clean again, you stand up, wincing at the ache in your hips. “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. i’ll shower when i get home.”
you limp over to your chair, picking up your clothes and sitting down to start getting dressed again.
when jun finishes pulling his shirt over his head and looks over at you he gasps, seeing the bruises across your hips and tummy. “holy shit! did i do that?” he asks, looking horrified, and you look down to check.
“oh. yeah, that and the table,” you shrug, hooking your bra behind your back.
“i’m sorry,” he says, voice quivering, and he genuinely looks like he’s about to cry until you convince him you’re alright and he didn’t do anything wrong.
“it’s not supposed to hurt, though, i thought,” he frowns. “i don’t want to hurt you. i lo– um, like you,” he says, “why would i want to hurt you?” he catches himself quickly, but you heard what he started to say. you decide now isn’t the best moment for you to bring it up, so you leave it alone.
“sometimes people like it when it hurts. sometimes people like it not to hurt. everybody’s different,” you tell him instead.
he nods, thinking. “i… liked this,” he says finally.
you smile, finishing putting the last of your clothes back on. “good, i’m glad. you’re supposed to enjoy it.”
“did… you like it?” he asks tentatively.
“yes, i did like it,” you giggle, and he beams, clearly proud of himself. and he should be. obviously it wasn’t the most perfect of your life, but when is it ever? it was close enough to perfect that it might as well be.
“you live on campus, right? so i don’t need to walk you to your car?” he asks, grabbing his jacket that somehow fell on the floor and tossing it onto his chair as he starts to shut everything down in the studio.
you sigh. damn, you’d forgot about this part. sure, a couple hours ago you could walk just fine to the communications building on the complete opposite side of campus, but you hadn’t planned on getting railed within an inch of your life so you hadn’t exactly thought to bring your car. “yeah, but i… it’s on the south end, and i probably won’t be able to walk very far,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “i’ll take the shuttle.”
he frowns. “i’m not gonna let you take the bus. i can give you a ride.”
“you don’t need to, jun.”
“yes, i do,” he says assertively, and it startles you enough to meet his eyes. you haven’t ever heard his voice that firm, and when you look up his expression is as equally determined as his tone. not that you’d ever admit it to him, but it is kind of… hot.
you decide not to argue with him, knowing you won’t be able to change his mind anyway. you nod an ‘okay’, and his face instantly brightens to the awkward, nerdy jun you’re used to, beaming like he did when you first agreed to another date, back in the café what feels like ages ago.
“are you doing anything tonight?” you ask, watching him shut down the equipment and turn all the knobs and dials to an off position.
“no. i mean, i was gonna catch up on my show, but then, i didn’t expect for… this, to happen, so…” he shrugs. “i don’t know.”
“do you wanna come over? i… i mean, not to do anything. just… wanna be with you.” your voice comes out smaller than you intend it to, but jun still hears you loud and clear.
“yeah,” he grins. “yeah, that would be really cool.”
he pauses, looking like he wants to ask you something but not sure if he should. “can i give you a hug?” he says finally.
you smile. only junhui would ask for something as small and sweet as a hug after having sex. “yes, please.”
he crosses the room in two strides, barely giving you time to process before he’s squeezing you in his arms. you sigh and automatically melt into his arms, inhaling the perfumey scent of his cologne lingering on his wrinkled clothes.
it feels… good, being cared about.
he finishes shutting everything down quickly and grabs his things, swinging his backpack over his shoulder as he flips off the lights and closes the door behind you, making sure it’s locked before heading down the stairs.
you hate the way your legs tremble going down the steps, cursing him for being so good at his first time, because who the hell is that good their first time? already at the bottom of the stairs, jun looks back to see where you are and why you aren’t beside him, and, seeing you gripping onto the side railing for support, he dashes back up the steps two at a time to grab your arm and help you.
“you weren’t kidding when you said you couldn’t walk,” he giggles, holding the door open for you, and oh my god you want to hit him. “does that always happen? i thought people always just made that up to sound cool.”
“yes, i wasn’t kidding, and no, it doesn’t always,” you mutter, face heating in embarrassment. “depends on the person and how rough it is.”
his smile widens, the implied meaning of your words sinking in. “so what you’re saying is, my di–”
“junnie, if you finish that sentence, i swear to god i will never have sex with you ever again.”
he giggles, but he shuts his mouth, helping you the rest of the way to his car in silence. this time you know for sure, it’s a good silence.
his car is nicer than you’d expect a man’s car to be: clean and fairly organized, and there’s no half-eaten fast food in the backseat. he swings open the door for you and tries to help you sit down, but you swat his hand away.
he jogs around to the driver side door and slides into the seat, slamming it shut behind him. he buckles up, then grabs a candy cane from the pile in the cupholder and holds it out to you. “candy cane?”
“i’m… good,” you laugh, forcing yourself not to make a joke about having better things to suck on. why does he even have those in his car?
the ride to your apartment complex is pleasant. as expected from the radio man himself, as soon as the key is in the ignition, he turns the radio on, humming along to every song. you find yourself spending most of the drive staring at him, studying the tiny features in his cheeks when he smiles and the way his adam’s apple bobs when he hums.
after a shower, clean pajamas, and a raid of your refrigerator for snacks and something to drink, you’re snuggled up on the couch with jun, catching up on the show he wanted to watch. it’s the middle of some random season and you have no idea what’s going on, but you don’t care. just being here with him is more than enough for you, and you’re glad he’s enjoying being here, too.
“do you have a voice kink?” he asks suddenly at one of the commercials.
you nearly choke on your gatorade. “i– well, i mean… i didn’t used to, but…” you sputter out, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. “where did you even hear that?”
“jeonghan said you might.”
you scoff. you still haven’t met junhui’s broadcasting partner yet, but you already have some choice words in mind for him when you do finally get to have the pleasure of meeting him. “well, tell him to keep his thoughts to himself,” you say, taking another smaller sip and avoiding his grin.
“so is that a yes?”
you roll your eyes and ignore him, which might as well be a yes, but you choose not to admit it. you know you definitely need to talk to him about… everything, but he seems so happy right now, you don’t want to risk ruining the evening.
but luckily for you, he brings it up himself at the next commercial break.
“how long do i have to wait until i can ask you to be my girlfriend?” he says, muting the tv and looking over at you.
you laugh. “were we not… already?” you ask. “we’ve been on, like, four dates. usually that part happens before you have sex.”
he looks a little disappointed, for some reason. not exactly the reaction you’d expect when someone tells you they want to keep seeing you. “oh. um, well…” he starts, scratching at the back of his neck. “i planned it all out, i was gonna do this big thing and ask you. i thought i was supposed to. i meant to do it earlier, but…” he trails off, cheeks turning pink.
your expression softens. “you… can ask me now,” you say, putting your hand on his thigh.
“okay.” he clears his throat, sitting up straighter on the couch. “will you be my girlfriend?”
you try not to laugh at how serious he is, knowing he’s really, really trying. “yes, of course,” you reply, trying to match his seriousness.
“is that okay? that i didn’t do it right?” he asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of the blanket covering your laps.
you smile and bring your hand up to his cheek, pulling him towards you to give him a quick kiss. “you did it perfect, junnie.”
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wtfsteveharrington · 3 days
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take the upper hand | carmen berzatto x reader
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push the reset button we're becomin' something new
description: carmen berzatto is stubborn and anxious and doesn't always know how to express himself. your best friend drags you to a party that carmen knows you'll be at and he shows up to make amends and thank god he does because he saves you from dealing with some drunk asshole.
content warnings: angsty!! drinking/party scene, shitty drunk guy w/ a shitty guy mentality!!, reader gets hit on with one night stand suggestion tones, carmen's ready to swing, mentions of anxiety and jealousy. mentions of reader drinking. kissing, mentions of intimacy related scratches, some light smut references.
author notes: my first time posting something that isn't just smut!! also something that no one but me has read!! normally i always get a proof read, not today. but this idea has been rattling around in my ole noggin' for a minute now so here we are. reminder!! you are responsible for your own media consumption!! if this won't be your jam then there's tons of other fics in the sea (: ily thank you!
even if it's handcuffed i'm leavin' here with you
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
The last place you wanted to be tonight was some house party in Wicker Park. With Pitbull, of all artists, playing so loud in the basement that the floor upstairs was still vibrating. Everything was sticky and stinky and you did not wanna be here.
But your best friend was hooked on this guy from her gym. 
It didn’t help that Carmy recognized his name from high school and mumbled out some remark about, “Oh yeah, no Dave’s a pretty solid guy.” She was convinced it was a sign that they were meant to be. Not to mention she found his mom’s Facebook and a post from two years ago that included his birth time. The whole train ride over you listened to how compatible the two of them were and how much she loved that he was a Scorpio rising. 
She had begged you to come to this God forsaken party and help put in a good word for her. Something had her convinced that if you mentioned just how well you were getting to know Carmen to this Dave guy that he would hold your opinion of her in higher regards.
And sure, maybe there was a part of you that hoped Carmen would be here even while the two of you were feuding. He knew it was coming up but couldn’t promise he’d be off in time - Something you got quite used to. It normally didn’t bother you that he had so many late nights at the resturant but when it rains, it pours and now you’re stuck sitting next to the sink littered cups filled with what can only be best described as some sort of horrific finance bro jungle juice. A mix of 1942 and fresh pressed juice. 
Your nose wrinkles up at the smell but you’re quickly refocused at the booming sounds of Ethan Callaghan stumbling through the back door. Another man Carmy knew from high school but didn’t like as much. Something about always being too in-your-face. Though you were pretty sure he was close with the guy your best friend was currently hooking up with in some random bedroom down the hall. 
The second his eyes land on you there’s a lopsided smile being thrown your way as he tries to fluff his hair and stand up as straight as possible. He’s stumbling into the kitchen with a full drink in hand, droning on and on about how he was ‘just so jealous’ that your friend went into that bedroom earlier. How nice it must be to not end the night alone. No pleasantries at all, just right into the whole lonely and horny act that was grossing you out. 
No one particularly knew you and Carmy were together yet - He wasn’t the type who wanted to label right away and potentially mess things up and you weren’t the type to out your dating status to random drunken men either. Besides, you weren’t so sure that ‘I have a boyfriend’ would put an end to this pitiful man’s sob story. 
As if, on queue and manifested right out of thin air, Carmen rounds the corner and takes a second to soak in the sight in front of him. You’re sitting there with your eyes trained on the water bottle in your hands. Ethan’s yapping away about how pretty you are and how big his apartment is. An excellent view in Streeterville that you’d love to see with the best brunch place in town two blocks away blah, blah, blah. Your shoulders are hunched over, body leaning away from Ethan as he stands at the window watching his reflecting in the window above the sink. 
“Hey - Been looking for you.”
Carmen.
Your head whips around to the sight of his voice instantly. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of him standing in front of you after you two had been apart for these last few days. He looked tired. Wearing a sweater he knows you love because he wants to look nice for you. God you wanted to run over and crash yourself against his chest. Screw the petty fight. Instead you’re stuck giving him a very pointed look, hoping he takes the hint to save you. 
He’d be lying if there wasn’t a split second where Carmen feared you were actually going to go home with this loser until he saw the panic and annoyance written across your face. Ethan’s laughing at the sight of him. “Hey, Dude. Think we’re all good here, yeah?” Oh he hates this dick. 
There’s a thick level of tension in the room as Carmen squares up his shoulders and steps further into the room. His eyes are trained on Ethan who clearly wasn’t expecting much of a fight out of Carmy. He stops when he’s standing between your knees, putting himself between the two of you. Something about the way he instantly turned possessive turned up a feeling deep in your stomach no matter how annoyed you still were. 
“Pretty sure someone out back was looking for you, Dude. It doesn’t seem like anyone in here wants you around. Now either you’re too fucking dense to realize it or you don’t care that you’re not wanted, but I’m here to let you know. So I suggest running out back and getting the fuck out of our hair.” 
Ethan’s clearly entertained while looking between the two of you, a playful glint in his eye. You’re silently begging him to walk away and find yourself bringing a hand up to put on the small of Carmen’s back. While you’ve never seen him actually fight, you’ve seen many scraps between him and Richie. Heard stories of him growing up and heard the Bachelor party story. 
You’re fine not having your own fight stories to tell. 
T-Pain is now blasting in the background and the contrast of people laughing and singing downstairs versus the situation you’ve found yourself in is making your head spin. The whole time your best friend is clueless and wrapped up in Mr. Scorpio Rising. She owes you big time. Like you’ve secured friend of the year already and she needs to throw a parade in your honor after going through this.
Ethan’s finally putting his hands up in the air, that shit eating grin still plastered across his features. “My bad, my bad. Didn’t know you were already claimed.” Claimed. Gross. Your fingers press into Carmy’s back, a silent plea to beg him not to escalate this even more. He’s laughing at the sight of the two of you before snagging a half finished bottle of vodka off the counter and backing up towards the back door. 
Carmen steps out from between your legs and follows Ethan to ensure he leaves. Shoulders pushed back, chest puffed out. You’d find the sight entertaining if you still weren’t so on edge. Carmen Berzatto, your protector. 
And sure, he’s probably just making this asshole someone else’s problem for the night but he doesn’t care. The main priority is getting you away from him and getting you safe. 
You catch the sight of his curls out of the corner of your eye when Carmen returns and instantly steel your spine. The shift in the air now that Ethan is gone was thick. He was a distraction from the distance between you two but now you’re preparing yourself for another argument when really you had no energy left to give it. There was a small worry that he’d think you gave Ethan any inclination that you were interested. Even though you two had been tense, there was never anyone else but you but him. Even if you’re too stubborn to drop that information just yet.
Carmen’s quiet. His heavy boots against the floor make your heart beat faster. Everyone had scattered out of the kitchen when he walked Ethan out of there but not before giving you two a nervous glance as they went. Some probably disappointed there wasn’t a fight if we’re being honest.
“Hey.” 
You don’t dignify him with a response. Crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sudden interest in the magnets that littered this guy’s fridge. Toying with the idea of putting the ‘Area 51 is for Lovers!’ magnet in your pocket. You figured you deserved something for going through this hell of a night. 
He stops himself once he’s reached your side, the silence awkward and thick in the air. Carmy’s hand is on your knee now, his touch not as firm as you’re used to. The whiplash of emotions once again not helping either of you know just quite where you stand. 
“M’still mad at you.” 
He winces but he knew it was coming. 
The two of you wallow in silence. Carmy’s just about to finally speak but someone stumbles in on the hunt for vodka, takes one look at the annoyance on your boyfriend’s face, before quickly muttering they’ll find it somewhere else. 
And you still won’t look at him. 
He’s grabbing at your waist now, pulling you from the counter and against his chest. You wanna protest but there’s still a buzz going through your body that makes it hard to think quick enough to push back. Plus God does he feel warm and smell so good.
Carmy’s walking backwards towards the fridge, waiting until his back is flush against it to slide down. Bringing down those magnets you wouldn’t stop staring at, family photos, whatever was in his way came with the two of you. He’s tugging you until you’re straddling his waist while he brings his knees up to support you. Grabbing a hold of your face, finally making you look at him and fuck he looks like shit close up. Dark circles, hair a little messier than he’d normally allow, a bit of fear deep in his eyes. 
“You gotta tell me how to fix this.” It’s all unfamiliar territory for him. There wasn’t exactly a good example set for him growing up to say the least. 
Four days ago Carmen watched as the barista at some coffee shop you wanted to go to flirted with you. That shit already annoyed him, but he tried to bite his tongue. Then your latte came out with a heart in the foam and you kept explaining that’s just how they all come out but he was jealous and possessive and didn’t know how to communicate that so instead the two of you fought in the car for an hour. It was so stupid and he’s been kicking himself in the ass ever since. 
The past four days you refused to talk to him and had done a good job at dodging the situation. Normally you two fight, you fuck, and then you pretend everything’s okay. The cycle was getting old and wearing you down.
Until now. 
You give a heavy sigh, reaching out to toy with the bottom hem of his shirt. Carmy really did look like it had been going through it so you’re throwing him a small bone. “Maybe not making me sit on a sticky floor would be a good start.” He’s muttering out this small laugh, thankful to hear anything coming out of your mouth let alone a joke, the sound vibrating against your fingertips and you hate how much it fills your heart. 
He waits for the rest. The other shoe to fall. Every ounce of laughter is gone when you finally collect yourself enough for - “Do you think we’re good together, Carmen?” You can feel him stiffen under you, his hands gripping at your waist because he needs something to give him some stability. 
A beat goes by. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Another beat, this time it’s Carmy who refuses to look at you. Eyes downcast and trained on your lap. “But I’m not sure I’m good for you.” You weren’t expecting that. 
Once again silence falls between the two of you, still toying with the hem of his shirt before you lean in to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath that’s filled with his cologne, faint smoke, and just Carmen that you’ve grown to crave. “You just gotta learn to trust me, Carmen. Outta everyone in this world, I’m the main one who never wants to hurt you. Especially for some barista with a fuckin’ comb over.” 
You hoped he would laugh again, but the sound never comes. Instead you feel his arms go tight around your body, his knees coming up a bit more which makes you fully lean into his chest. He’s clinging to you, wishing so badly he knew what to say (or could let himself) say what he knows he needs to. Instead he’s just pressing a kiss ​​to your head, sighing into your hair. 
“I wanna be better for you. Just don’t know how.” 
The two of you cling to each other and fight to get as close as possible. The distance apart these past four days has left the both of you physically aching for one another. It’s been hours, days of a tense heart and checking phones for texts neither of you knew how to send. You press a kiss against his neck, leaning back just enough to grab his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheeks. 
“It’s scary for me too, y’know? This, us. You’re not alone in being scared but lashing out at me isn’t gonna solve anything. I’m not going anywhere, Carmy.” You take the first step in mending the relationship by leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. There’s a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he’s still scared you’re going to change your mind and run off before he can realize it’s happening. 
He’s letting you take the lead and only deepening the kiss once he feels your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers trailing along the toned skin while Carmey licks your bottom lip. Your hands glide around his back where you’re able to trace over healing scratches left on the skin from your last night together. 
Your lips part and you take the lead once again, letting your tongue slide along his and giving a low moan into his mouth as you taste him. There’s the lingering taste of cigarettes mixed with black coffee and Carmen. Once again indescribable and simply him. His grip on you tightens up in response and you know if you’re not careful then you’ll end up disheveled and tangled up in the backseat of his car or bent over one of the sinks in a disgusting bathroom. Both options you refuse to pick over getting home and letting him properly make this up to you. 
Dragging your nails along the healing marks, Carmen starts to lose track of his kissing. His grip on your neck tightening a bit more, hips rocking up towards you against his better judgement. The motion’s getting needy and sloppy and you have to pull away much to both of your disappointment. 
Shaking your head and bringing your hands up to rest flush against his warm chest. “You’re not gonna fuck me on this nasty floor. I deserve better than this.” Which, of course you do. He just gets carried up when he’s wrapped up in you. He’s nodding in agreement but can’t stop himself from licking his own lips to chase the sensation of you.
He’s looking over your features, his heart picking up pace even more than he thought was possible anymore. “Think you’re meant to be my forever, y’know? Sometimes I look at you and it scares the shit out of me because I look ahead and-... It’s you. Kids sitting at a table in the restaurants doing homework. A honeymoon overseas where I get to drag you around different pasty shops and restaurants and we’ll find random art in flea markets to hang when we get home. Take photos that end up framed. It’s you. Always.” 
Now how are you supposed to be mad when he’s this open and honest. Unpacking a future you had thought only you considered so far. You hope this behavior sticks. It’s not easy for either of you, but it’s worth fighting through the learning curve. “Kids, huh? Multiple? They’ll be your harshest critics, Carmy. I dunno if you can handle their reviews quite yet.” He’s chuckling, shaking his head with a lazy smile. “No, not yet. But one day.” The promise of more between you finally putting an end to this discussion for now. You make a mental note to remember this moment when the two of you bicker in the future - No matter what there’s always more on the road ahead of you. 
Which makes you smile too. Wrapping your arms around his neck. “One day.” You reward him with one more kiss, knowing that’s all the two of you can risk before you end up sprawled out on this floor. 
Carmy’s desperate to keep the lightened mood. He’s giving it a moment for both of you to calm back down from kissing before playfully scrunching up his face. “God you taste like shitty tequila.” It works. You’re laughing and swatting your hand against his chest, feeling a bit lighter than you did when you walked into this place. “Carmen Berzatto be nice to me!” 
He’s beaming at you now. Bright, happy. 
It’s a stark difference from the funk you’d both been stuck in since this fight started. The sight makes your heart swell and you bring a hand up to push some curls back off of his forehead. Leaning in to press a kiss against the tip of his nose. 
“Lemme take you home, yeah? Get you some food on the way? Gotta make sure someone so pretty doesn’t wake up with a hangover.” He loves taking care of you in anyway you'll let him.
You nod and carefully start to shuffle off of his lap. Getting yourself to your feet before reaching down to help tug Carmen up to his feet. You catch as he adjusts himself in his pants, a flush blooming along his cheeks and down his neck. Stepping back in until you’re chest to chest with him, you press a line of kisses along his jaw. Rough stubble going away once you find his lips yet again. You hum against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta shave in the morning, Carmy.” He’s nodding instantly, reaching his hand down into his pocket to fish out the car keys. 
There’s a notification lighting up your phone - Perfect timing. A simple “Gonna spend the night ;)” text from your best friend. You can’t help but to grin and roll your eyes, turning the phone around so Carmen can see the notification too. He’s laughing while sliding a hand into your back pocket and starting to lead the two of you out of the kitchen. 
“Yeah, remind me to tell Dave that his friend fuckin’ sucks.” 
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jadequeen88 · 1 year
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As someone who has worked many different service industry jobs, I obviously have lots of thots about line cook! Eddie. Let me elaborate:
Eddie is the one cook who keeps all the other younger hooligans in line. Did they make a rude comment about your skirt riding up while you’re picking up a drink someone spilled? Spatula to the back of the head. They need to learn to treat these hard-working girls with some respect. One of them wolf whistles? Eddie pinches their ear, looks at you apologetically, and says, “Sorry, sweetheart. This one here is barely housebroken. Doesn’t know how to act around pretty ladies.”
He’s also definitely the one all the servers have a crush on. He’s the topic of many smoke break discussions. You didn’t even smoke until you worked there, just wanting an excuse to bat your lashes and bum cigarettes off him. One night, he grinned as he took a long drag and let the smoke curl out, saying he was smoking his last one, but you could have a hit off it if you wanted. Instead of taking it from him, you wrapped your lips around the filter as he was still holding it. Watching his pupils widen and seeing him lick his lips in response was a big payoff for such a risky move. 
The other servers start getting jealous of your special treatment, but Eddie really doesn’t give a fuck, and as long as your boss is happy with your work, you’re fine with it too. Sometimes he moves your ticket to the front of the queue if it’s a really busy night and the other girls have been giving you a hard time. You shake your head in weak protest, but Eddie just says, “I gotta give my favorite girl the red carpet treatment every now and then, don’t I? You work so hard, darlin’. I gotta do my part to help you keep those bastards out there happy. Keeps that tip money coming in for ya’.” He gives you a wink as he twirls his spatula and gets to work, leaving you a blushing mess. 
Up to this point, you thought it was just Eddie being a flirt because you were the new girl, but the night you see him with one of the particularly annoying cooks pinned against the wall by his throat for calling you a “dumb bitch”, you start to suspect your crush might not be as one-sided as you’d originally thought. Afterward, he walked up to you and asked if you were okay. The gentle caress he placed against your cheek made your lashes flutter before you could stop yourself. “Y-yeah, Eddie. Thanks.” His thumb brushed along your cheekbone, and he graced you with the lopsided smile you loved before pulling away to say, “No one talks about my favorite girl that way.” You were in a daze the rest of your shift. 
A couple of nights after that interaction, you stay late to wrap all the silverware and cut all the lemons. You knew the other servers left those time-consuming tasks for you as a punishment, but you refused to neglect to do them and put the opening shift in a bind. Even if it was fucked up of them to do that to you in the first place. You realized after a few minutes that someone else was there deep cleaning the grill. You nearly dropped a whole container of freshly cut lemons when you heard whoever it was singing along to one of your favorite songs you’d been silently head-banging along to as you worked. 
The soulful delivery of this mystery man’s singing had you weak in the knees, and it only got worse when you peeked around the corner to see that big voice coming out of Eddie’s mouth. His eyes were closed, bandana-clad head thrown back, as he scraped the grease off the grill and sang his heart out. He must have sensed you standing there, because he turned towards you and jumped a little, those pretty chocolate orbs widening. It was kind of adorable. 
“Shit, sweetheart! Didn’t know I had company, or I’d have kept my wailing to a minimum!” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. How dare he have the nerve to look embarrassed when all you could think about was getting on your knees and under that apron after hearing his voice?
“Eddie, that was…” your voice cracked a little. You cleared your throat and continued. “That was amazing. I love that song, by the way. Not many people here listen to them. You do it justice.”
He turned red and couldn’t meet your eyes, a rare way for the bold man to behave. You liked this side of him. “I do okay, I guess, but I’m better on guitar than vocals.” It seemed to dawn on him that you revealed that you had a similar taste in music then because he perked up and met your gaze again. “Wait, you listen to this kind of stuff?” You nodded and grinned at his sudden switch in tone. “Damn, I didn’t know you could get any more badass!” You laughed at that. “You know,” he continued and cleared his throat. “I’m in a band. We do okay. Decent crowds. We play Tuesday and Friday nights down at the Hideout.”
That’s how you end up at a dive bar the following Friday night, front row cheering Eddie on as he shreds on stage. Afterward, he grabs you up into a sweaty hug, spinning you around. “That’s the best I’ve ever played, baby.” Your heart fluttered. He hasn’t used that pet name before… “You gotta come to every show now and be my good luck charm!” You giggled and agreed. Like you’d ever turn down that offer. 
The flirting amps up at work after that. Eddie yelling out, “There she is! Light of my life, goddess incarnate! How’s your day going, sweetness?” from behind the grill becomes a daily thing. “‘M doing fine, Eddie. How about you?” You always answer. You know what he’s going to say before his mouth even opens, but it gives you butterflies every time. “Million times better now I’ve seen you! Now go out there, kick-ass, and get those tips!”
Things come to a head one night when you’re dealing with a table of Hawkin’s “elite,” the rich boys that thought being born on the right side of the tracks made them special. It didn’t help that their table was in view of Eddie’s workstation. He had a front-row seat to the show, watching them flirt with you, and you have to put up with it, having to smile through it. When the loudest one slipped you his phone number, Eddie couldn’t take it. You heard a clatter and saw a flash of dark curls exit through the back. “What’s going on?” You asked one of the other guys. They all shrugged and looked at each other, just as lost as you were. 
You walk out back and see Eddie leaning against the rough brick wall lighting his second cigarette. He jolts upright when he sees it’s you. “Oh, hey sweetheart. Need to bum one?” He holds the carton towards you, and you can’t help but notice his sad eyes. 
“No, Eds. Can I just have a drag off yours?” 
“Course darlin’,” he mumbles around his cigarette before holding it out to you. He just expects you to let him hold it for you by now. It doesn’t mean it makes his chest ache with want any less, though. 
“What’s the matter, Eds?” You ask sweetly. It embarrasses him that he’s so weak for you. 
“Nothin' to worry about. Promise.” He tries to smile, but he knows you can see right through him. 
You had a feeling it had to do with the asshole trying to give you his number earlier, but you’re still a little nervous to address it and get rejected. So you take a deep breath, brace yourself, and ask, “Was it because that guy gave me his number?”
Eddie couldn’t meet your eyes, “Am I that obvious, sweetheart?” he sighed and looked up to the star-speckled sky overhead, “Some days, I wanna come clean so you’ll reject me already. Put myself outta this misery. But I always chicken out,” he turned to you with misty eyes, “I'm a coward, you know? I’d rather have little pieces of you than nothing at all.”
He barely finished his speech before your hands found his stubbled cheeks, and your mouth was on his. Eddie tasted how you’d imagined he would, the cigarette you shared and cherry chapstick. His eyes closed and he sighed sweetly. It was pure heaven. You pulled away and he smiled bigger than you’d ever seen.
“You silly man,” you whispered, nudging his nose with yours, “All you had to do was ask me out and I’d have said yes.”
“All this time?!” he said, eyes bulging and voice going high.
“Yes! All this time,” you responded. Now it was his turn to initiate a kiss, this one more consuming than the last, his tongue barely swiping your bottom lip. You whined under his touch, making him turn desperate.
“Baby, we gotta revisit this in a couple of hours. Just so I know that I'm not hallucinating.”
“You got it, Eds,” you bit your lip and pulled away from him to go back inside to finish your shift. Before the door closed behind you, you could hear Eddie whooping and cheering in celebration. Needless to say, as soon as you were both clocked out that night, you never kept your hands off each other again.
NOTE: Thanks to everyone on the discord server for fueling this madness. I’d love to revisit this and write an actual fic with smutty goodness. So everyone, let me know what you think!!
@trashmouth-richie @munson-blurbs @pinkrelish @eddiemunsonsmum @courtingchaos @corroded-hellfire @chestylarouxx
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euovennia · 1 year
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Okay hi hello I’ve just binged your platonic Simon x reader headcannons and as an aspec person I am absolutely EATING THIS SHIT UP - Simon deserves someone to lean on and seeing him be vulnerable and care for someone like that and who will do the same for him makes my heart melt.
however, I am also a hopeless romantic and an absolute sucker for pain and the thought of Ghost catching feelings and being completely unaware of them because he’s barely used to having a friend let alone a crush; only realising after y/n does something he’d usually find stupid only to find himself completely smitten over it and him just going “oh. oh nO” and queue the internal turmoil because he has no idea what tf to do with himself and god forbid if y/n actually likes him back-
This has been plaguing me all morning and I cannot act right so I had to share it :,)
this can be a read as part of the bff ghost series i have going on, but i see it more as a "what if" kinda thing bc i strongly believe this man just needs a good friend. thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3
warnings: nothing comes to mind, but lmk if you see something that needs to be added and i'll do it asap!
summary: ghost panics when he realizes he likes you just a little too much.
anon you're so smart for this because i genuinely feel like friends to lovers is the the easiest way for simon to fall in love
like there's already a deep, established trust there (in terms of being on the battlefield)
i mean obviously because if there wasn't you wouldn't even be on the team in the first place
but the trust he places in you on the field paired with the trust he has in you off the field?
i think it's safe to say that while this man doesn't realize it yet, he's already a goner
the meals you share, the low-budget hollywood action films you hate watch, and the unbelievable amount of patience he has for your shenanigans
basically, you two have become two peas in a pod (despite him not wanting to be in the pod in the first place but who cares he's your friend and that's all that matters)
and i genuinely believe of he were to start falling for one of his friends (aka you) it would be a very slow process, one that neither of you realize is even taking place
it would be the little things like you willingly making making the same dish two days in a row for your little meal times because he just likes it that much
maybe even leaning your head on his shoulder while you two watch those bad action films because, deep down, he loves knowing you trust him enough to feel so comfortable with him (bonus points if you end up falling asleep)
ordering him his favorite brand of loose leaf tea that he can never seem to find anywhere on store shelves
god forbid you memorize the way he prepares his tea and randomly show up with a steaming mug of it at random times of the day
as i said before, it's the little things that do it for him
but imagine doing all of those things on the. same. day.
like
you know he woke up extra early to help price take care of some paperwork and while he's doing that you stroll in a mug of tea
then later on when you see him for lunch he finds you made two plates of bangers and mash (sausages and mashed potatoes, it's a british thing apparently) despite having it the day before and when he asks why you just say something like, "yesterday you said you wished you could have more, figured i'd make more"
then later in the evening when everyone's retired to their rooms, you walk into his with the all too familiar box of loose-leaf tea in your hands along with a blanket
you just kinda set the box on the bedside table before dragging him to sit on the floor in front of the tv the two of you snuck into his room one night after price banned them after soap broke his and he was the one who had to clean up the mess
he totally saw you two sneak it in but never bothered to say anything because he trusts you
anyway
you flick on the tv and put on the third installment of that god awful 'sharknado' movie series you two had found out was a thing not too long ago
and all is well
until you lay your head on his shoulder and grab onto his arm as you look over his tattoos
he'll probably give you a little glance before turning his attention back to the movie, it's not uncommon for you to do things like this
but then he'll feel something cold press up against his skin and he'll look down again just to see you holding a colored marker and scribbling inside the lines of his tattoo
and as much as he wants to pull away and throw that marker to the other end of the room
he just can't bring himself to do it
not when you're pressed up against his side with your hands cradling his arm as if he was worthy of such care in the first place
obviously this night wouldn't be complete without you falling asleep against his shoulder, so that's exactly what you do
he lays you to sleep on his bed while he makes himself cozy on the floor :)
anyway cue him getting up early for his morning shower and the complete and utter shock that hits him like a truck when the marker you used the night prior to color in his tattoos doesn't wash off
he makes a bee line for his room and immediately picks up the marker you used only to find out it's sharpie
and while he knows that this would be a perfectly acceptable time for him to wake you up and chastise you for doing such a thing, he doesn't
because when he looks down at his arm he can practically feel his chest bloom with a warm, fuzzy feeling because you did that
and it's after he's stared at the colorful markings that now grace his skin does he realize he's got a small smile etched onto his face
then it hits him like a truck
he likes it because of you
he likes you
it cannot be overstated how quickly he grabs his stuff and leaves the room, not caring in the slightest that you're still wrapped up in his sheets
he doesn't do much work that day
just a lot of aimless walking around base as he tries to, in his words, get his shit together
because, in his mind, this is probably just about the stupidest thing he can do
and it's not even because he's technically your superior, that's a mess all on its own
it's the fact that either one of you could quite literally die at any given point while on a mission
and that's not even bringing up his own mountain of trust issues and insecurities
it's a mess
he's a mess
and how does he deal with this mess?
by avoiding you like the damn plague
you thought it was bad when he was trying to duck out of your pre-friendship interactions when you seemed to always be trying to find a way to bug him? think again.
he becomes practically invisible to you
his callsign isn't 'ghost' for no reason
i can honestly see it getting so bad to the point where you start to really only see him on group missions
which isn't too horrible admittedly because you always manage to squeeze in some small talk, but it's not enough
but one day, price calls the two of you into his office with laswell patiently sat waiting on a video chat over his laptop
and it's revealed that you two are being sent on a mission to gather some intel about some new terrorist group that's popped up on laswell's radar
and he just kinda sits there and accepts the fact he'll have to be paired up with you because what's he gonna do? tell laswell and price no? absolutely not
anyway
i imagine the mission going off without a hitch
i'm talking real simple, just a quick in and out before ghosts is on comms requesting an evac
that's where things go wrong
because you'll get some bullshit response like, "oh no, bad weather, can't fly like this, looks like you'll have to wait! get cozy!!"
and while you are a bit disappointed when he breaks the news, you can't help but feel a little happy because now you actually get to see and interact with simon for more than five minutes
but while you're over in your head having a small celebration over the unforeseen circumstances, simon is pretty much dreading it
he knows you know he's been avoiding you and he's 100% sure you're going to make him sit through an awkward conversation about it
and what's worse, he's certain you won't stop until he tells you why
well it's a good thing he knows how to keep his mouth shut!
at least he thought he did
because after having you ask him for the reason of his sudden avoidance of you for what he swears has to be the hundredth time, he just spits it out in a small fit of anger and annoyance
and i highly doubt he'll realize what he just said until he looks over to you after not getting a response and seeing you there with your eyes wide and jaw open
he'll definitely try to backtrack with something like, "forget what i said. you didn't hear anything."
and then your brain will finally kick in after going haywire for an unnecessarily long amount of time and you'll just kinda ask him in a small voice, "did you mean it?"
and as tempted as he is to brush you off and say no, he can't bring himself to do that
but remember, simon is still a very hurt man underneath that mask and heavy duty gear, so i can imagine him just letting out a small sigh before saying something along the lines of
"i'm sorry."
and your heart just breaks because you can practically feel the shame radiating from him as he turns himself away from you and averts his gaze to the floor
simon riley, perhaps one of the most hardened and strongest men you'll ever come to know, apologizing for the way he feels
you can't help but shuffle closer to him until you're sitting by his side
and you'll sit in silence this way for a while as he tries to ignore just how close you are while you try to find a gentle way to approach this
you're stumped
but eventually, your eyes will fall onto the floor and simon's gloved hand will come into your vision
and there's not a single thought in your mind before you're reaching out and putting your hand on top of his
the man practically malfunctions
he's sitting there, thoughts going a mile a minute as he tries to decipher what this means
but then you'll lean your head on his shoulder and he's almost startled at the way all of the noise in his head seems to just disappear
but still, he can't resist asking
"what now?"
and you'll let out a small, wistful sigh as you nuzzle your head further into his shoulder
"whatever we want."
he'll look down at you with an almost shy gaze, "and if i want you?"
and you'll interlace your fingers and punctuate it with a squeeze, "then you can have me."
and that's good enough for the both of you
at least until you get back to base
:)
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alien-magnolia · 1 year
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Breeding kink headcannons w Tsu’tey, my baby💙
Tw: heavy breeding kink, (obvi😭) overstim, mating ritual, size kink, dom!tsu’tey / subby! Fem! Navi reader, pregnancy kink, pet names, jealousy
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After you mated for the first time, you just felt so much more connected with him. You saw a soft and loving side to him, but also a very intense passion that he had for you. You were now both as one.
“Going to make you mine, ma honey, ma paskalin,” he would say, as the two of your queues connected, and he put his full body weight onto you.
“So tight around me, ma yuey (my beautiful) so good. Gonna give you my baby, ma paskalin. Fill you up all nice and tight,” he whispers to you in a husked voice, his smile growing wider and wider by the second.
His thrusts became faster, deeper, his big hands gripping your thighs, slinging them over his shoulders. He let out a few hisses and growls, you loved his intense passion, his anger as he fucked you, his beautiful mate, all ready to be bred!! :)
You were a mess. You couldn’t even keep your eyes open because of how good his cock was stuffing you, nice and sweet, that throbbing mushroom tip hitting you so so deep!!
“See that, ma paskalin? That’s my cock in there, gonna pump you full,” he moaned out, a large hand over your abdomen, looking at where his cock was protruding.
“Tsu’tey…please. Please, want your cum,” you begged him, your doe eyes matching his lovestruck ones.
You feel his thrusts getting sloppier, deeper, he lets out a whine as he cums in you.
Just like a miracle, one week after, the Tsahik determines you are pregnant.
————-
Tsu’tey gets so protective over you. Even at the first few weeks, he is constantly reminding you, “take it easy, ma paskalin. Don’t stress the baby.”
When you start to show, it turns him on so much, to see his mate, all happy and heavy, full with his baby.
One of his favorite things to do is just cuddle you to sleep, rubbing your belly, calming you, he was so proud that he put his baby in you :)
He never let you go out into the forest alone anymore. Anytime you went it was with him, he would get very upset if another man tried to escort you. “I can take her,” another Navi warrior, part of Tsu’tey’s personal group, would say.
“No! She is pregnant, skxwang. She needs Olo’eyktan with her, not you,” Tsu’tey would hiss at the others, tail erratic, ears bent. The men would not even try to argue.
You wanted to go hunting with him one day, you are his mate, after all, the Tsahik in training. You waddle your way over to the ikran. Your back hurts so much these days.
“No, no, ma yuey,” he gently chides to you, as you try to get on ikran but your heavy belly stops you from doing so. He put a hand on your belly, giving you a look.
“Too dangerous. Keep the baby safe, ma paskalin. I will be back tonight,” he would say, and then take off on his ikran with a large shriek.
Avatar taglist: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @23victoria @jake-sullys-whore @aerangi
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katskitoshi · 2 years
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"MY TYPE IS," WITH OBEY ME.
synopsis: obey me brothers react to [name] who responds to a "what's your type?" question with their name.
characters: lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub & belphegor (separately) x gender neutral! reader
dateables version: here ["my type is," dateables]
includes: cursing
asmo, as always, was asking questions to you with everyone present. the demon brothers, diavolo, barbatos, solomon and simeon were all there. none of them were paying attention to the questions or conversation - well, until asmo asked, "what's your type, [name]?"
LUCIFER: THE MIGHTY FIRST-BORN
"well, my type would be smart, serious, but also soft. basically, lucifer."
can you repeat that? i think lucifer might be dying from overheating and then that love pride swelling in his chest where his quick-beating heart is.
he tried not to look away from diavolo, but even diavolo heard.
"ah! lucifer, did you hear that? [name] likes you too!"
lucifer blushed as he recomposed himself.
he quickly regrets letting diavolo know about his crush on the human exchange student because both asmo's and your head turned to the pair.
diavolo practically forced lucifer to go up to you.
you were full blown blushing while he was slightly red and well composed.
"i heard i'm your type," he says, placing a hand on your shoulder. you were staring in his eyes, and you were flustered. "yeah..." "and i can also assume you have a crush on me as well?" "right again, haha..." you try to look away before the hand that was on your shoulder was cupping your face and turning you towards him. your eyes locked with each other.
"good thing you're my type too, [name]."
MAMMON: THE SCUMMY SECOND-BORN
"my type just has to be mammon, ya' know? he's just so pretty and perfect. plus, he’s my first!"
him? the scummy one? really? pretty? perfect too?
he could barely hear levi getting mad at him for not paying him back over the loud thumping in his chest.
he's always been the greedy one, and he simply had to have you as soon as he heard you liked him back.
of course, against every thought in his head, he decided to wait. he was the avatar of greed, he wants what he wants when he wants is, but he'll wait. for you, he tells himself as a can't wait for this gathering to be over.
when it is over and you both get some alone time together, he can't help but feel a bit nervous about approaching it. but he's greedy, and needs you.
"oi, human," he says as he walked into your room. it was a common occurrence, your room was like his second one. "i'm not giving you any pocket grim and i don't have your wrist watch. i think levi's keeping it until he gets his grim." you chuckle a bit while turning to him. "no, it's just that i-um heard from you and asmo that i'm you're type..."
you were both blushing messes "y-yep. you're right mammon. i like you too.."
"w-well of course you do! everyone loves the great mammon! only an idiot wouldn't have me as their type! and i-um guess you're my type too, human,"
LEVIATHAN: THE OTAKU THIRD-BORN
"someone- no, levi would be my ideal type. it has to be him. i'd even prefer him to a 2d character!"
YOU'D PREFER HIM TO AN ANIME CHARACTER???!??!? AND IT HAS TO BE HIM??!?!
he (not-very) casually passes out in the middle of an argument with mammon.
before he's out, his nose starts bleeding, he's really blushy, he starts to sweat and shake a bit and starts muttering:
"[n-n-n-n-[name] - th-they i-" then he passes out,
when the gathering is over, he's taken to his room where you, being the dedicated simp you are, decided to wait for him to wake up.
when he does, he remembers everything and starts getting really blushy again.
"levi, are you goo-" "[NAME] Y-YOU'D PEFER ME TO AN A-ANIME CHARACTER? I'M YOUR TYPE? THERE'S LOTS OF PEOPLE BETTER THAN BE AN YOU REALLY CAN DO BETTER THAN SOME SHUT IN OTAKU LIKE ME!"
you sigh, "i don't want them, i want you, levi. i love you. "
queue blushing, nose bleed, and muttering
"i-i love you too, [name]. i guess you're my type even though you're a normie."
SATAN: THE CYNICAL FOURTH-BORN
"personally, my type is smart and pretty - so satan's my ideal person!"
doth this bookworm's ears mishear? nope, you just back-hand confessed to him, called him smart, pretty, and you said he's the type you'd want.
straight out of book too. his cheeks were pink and his was flustered. he was also happy - very happy. not the façade he puts up as the avatar of wrath, but genuine happiness. is this what being in the celestial realm feels like?
anyways, he decides to confront you straight up. why wait?
he pulls you away from asmo, where you and him walk towards the library in the demon lord's castle.
he kinda skips going over the part where he's your type and jumps to the parts where he's asking you out on a date. he really wants you to be his lover!
"so you like smart and pretty people? i knew i was smart, but i didn't know i fell under the category of pretty for you. good thing you fall under the category of pretty for me. i love you, [name]. will you go on a date with me?
ASMODEUS: THE NARCISSISTIC FIFTH-BORN
"my type would defiantly be someone like you asmo. actually, you! you're my type, i have eyes for no one else! i love you for you asmo, flaws in all if you have any!"
squeals really loudly and clings himself to you. all the things you do to him, [name]!
he casually grabs the attention of the entire room. he's blushing. never really been in a non-platonic relationship where someone's cared about the non-sexual part of the relationship or him in general.
he knew that this was real love, not lust, when he started thinking about the relationship and not just the sexual parts and when he wanted this to be the romantic last relationship he was in.
he's glad that you have taste. who wouldn't love him?
casually asks you out there and then
"ah! [name], you're my type too! how about a date tomorrow at resonance six? i just have to make you mines as soon as possible! &lt;;3"
BEELZEBUB: THE FAMISHED SIXTH-BORN
"my type would be beelzebae. he's strong but also a sweetheart. and i love the way he eats. honestly, i'd kill to have him as my boyfriend!"
he really didn't mean to eavesdrop!
if you didn't want him to hear, don't stand near the food!
well, he was red, and not from the pepper curry.
and the nickname? you gotta call him beelzebae more and to his face.
you don't have to kill anyone! just ask and he'll be boyfriend for you.
if you want, he'll make the first move.
you think he's strong? and that he's a sweetheart? makes his heart ache in a good way more that his stomach.
oh shit, his stomach growled and both you and asmo looked over to him after the loud grumbling sound.
asmo smirked, "oh, beel! i'm gonna go over there with solomon! see ya' later!~" he quickly walked away. "did you hear me and asmo'd conversation?"
he nod's slowly.
"[name], i like you too. you don't have to kill anyone! i'll be your boyfriend now! i'm glad you think i'm strong and a sweetheart too! and could you, um - call me beelzebae more?"
BELPHEGOR: THE CATNAPPING SEVENTH-BORN
"my type? i'd like someone who'd nap and cuddle with me, ya' know? just someone to take lazy days every day with. maybe that's why i like belphie so much."
even though you thought belphie was sleeping, don't think it was a good idea discussing feeling about him around him.
he was sleeping, well - until asmo asked what your type was.
yeah, he made some mistakes in the past, but you said you were cool with him, so that makes it okay, right?
even if it doesn't, it didn't stop the fact that belphie caught feelings, and apparently, you did too.
he decided that the best course of action would be to confront you about it when you two cuddle together later tonight.
when the time came, you both were laying on the bed together.
he snuggled up closer to you. to the point where he was on top of you. you were near falling asleep but you tried to keep yourself awake to hear what he was saying.
"you know, i wasn't sleeping earlier at that gathering thing. i heard what you and asmo were saying. i didn't strike you as the type to like me."
that woke you up. "you heard? i didn't mean it i swea-mhm!" he kissed you, his hands intertwining with your own.
"don't worry about it, [name]. we can nap and cuddle and take lazy days all you want. you're my type anyways."
dateables version: here ["my type is," dateables]
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hanjisick · 1 year
Text
— ESPRESSO
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order #5 of the coffee shop series: an espresso shot.
ingredients. barista!jisung x y/n. strangers to lovers?? night shift worker jisung who’s obsessed with music.
allergies. contains: semi-public making out. almost sex in a café bathroom but interrupted.
size. 2.3k
special add ons. jisung loved his job working the night shifts at yellow wood café. he would jam out to music and yell at college students to wake up and do their work. and occasionally flirting with pretty girls, unless they ask him to sing— then he becomes a mess.
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“jisung, the shop is all yours.”
“i won’t let you down, chan.” his boss let out a lighthearted laugh, pushing open the door. 
the bell chimed, announcing his departure. his wide eyes followed chan through the glass door, waiting for him to disappear. 
jisung’s shoulders slumped once chan was gone for good. now it was him, the customers, and the music.
there were only a few minutes until the night rush started. college students would pack the shop soon with laptops and notebooks out, eager to stay up late enough to get work done if they consumed more caffeine than their bodies could handle.
yellow wood café was always the busiest at night since it was the only coffee shop open for almost twenty-four hours. jisung was always on the move because of it, with the rest of the boys valuing their sleep too much to help out, other than occasionally chan.
he didn’t mind being alone though. jisung almost felt like the owner of the shop at these times. he could make his own rules.
the espresso machine was on, the tables were clean, and the dishes were out, ready to assist the students. the only thing left— the only thing he was ever scolded for— was the music. 
he cranked the volume up as high as his ears could handle, carefully selecting a vinyl out of his collection.
he selected enough to queue for the next few hours, carefully stacking them next to the record player. 
the bell chimed— right on time. 
autopilot kicked in as he began to prepare drinks into the night, one espresso shot at a time, making sure to down a few himself. 
his body had gotten used to being practically nocturnal, but a kick of caffeine never hurt anyone. 
“welcome in!” he yelled over the music as you walked in, hands deep in the pockets of your jacket, your cheeks red from the cold. the smell of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries immediately hit you. 
“hi,” you shouted back, “can i get an espresso shot? i have some homework to catch up on.”
the barista’s infectious laugh caused your lips to curl into a smile, noticing the way his lips took the shape of a heart. “you don’t need to explain, baby, everyone here is in the same boat.”
you would’ve cringed at the endearing nickname if he wasn’t as cute. “do you always call your customers baby?” 
“it’s part of my charm.” 
“are you also always this stuck up?”
“do i need to repeat myself?” 
“whatever. how much?” 
he leaned against the counter, resting his face against his hand, a little too close to you. again, you let it slide. “cute girls get coffee for free.“
this time you couldn’t help but cringe at the shameless flirting, crossing your arms and huffing. 
“what’s a good name for your order?” 
“y/n.”
he watched you take a seat at the bar, pulling the laptop out of your bag to begin your work just as everyone around you had done.
the sounds of your typing were drowned out by the loud music. you caught your head nodding to the upbeat music. 
did he play this so that the students didn’t fall asleep? you glanced around the room, half of the students drooling on their keyboards. it didn’t work.
you felt your own eyes begin to droop, your hands getting lazier, and your breathing was heavier…. 
“more espresso please!” you shouted before it was too late, staring at the essay that was only half complete.
your ears didn’t even register the way that the barista was singing along to the music, loudly at that, until he paused to answer you.
“coming right up, baby!” 
you groaned in fake annoyance, waiting for him to slide the small cup your way.
downing the caffeine, your face contoured from the intense bitterness, but it worked. soon, you were back to writing your essays.
the clock soon hit one. then two, then three. 
there were barely any people left, and the ones that were still around were dozing off, with jisung occasionally running to wake people up, reminding them of all the work they need to be doing.
“don’t give up now!” you’d hear him yell out, shaking someone awake, “remember that chemistry quiz? it’s tomorrow!” 
over the night, you’d grown quite fond of the boy, finding it endearing how enthusiastic he was, willing to learn about all of his customers, keeping the energy alive through music and shuffling his feet around the café. 
through one of the conversations you overheard, you found out his name was jisung. jisung, the barista who works the night shifts. you heard a nickname for him that seemed to stick. the music man. 
“we can do it, you guys! just a few more hours!” 
you shook your head, waving him over to your direction to ask for another shot. 
“y/n! you’ve been awake for so long, what’ve you gotten done?” 
“actually, i finished an hour ago,” you confessed.
jisung grinned, leaning over your shoulder, “why are you still here then? shouldn’t you be asleep for class tomorrow?”
“i don’t have a class tomorrow,” you nudged him back with your shoulder, “to be honest, i’m just enjoying the music. what’s the song that’s playing right now? i want to add it to my playlist.” 
there was a moment of silence before you turned to face his direction, only to find his grin widening even further— you didn’t know that was possible.
“you’re asking about the music?”
“yes, i am,” you confirmed as if he hadn’t heard you, “what’s the song?” 
“oh my god. nobody asks me about the music.” for a moment, you were afraid that he was going to explode. 
“i run all of the music here. i have a collection of vinyl and there’s this small spot at the back of the store-“
“can i see?” you grinned, and you didn’t have to ask twice before he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the back of the store.
jisung’s most prized possession— a white shelf in the back of the shop that chan, very reluctantly, let him keep. it was slightly hidden by messy vines and plants, behind every table in the store. records filled the shelves, a few spilling out to the floor in a messy pile that jisung couldn’t be bothered to pick up. 
you let out an audible gasp at the sight, squatting down beside him as you picked up a couple of the records.
“this is one of my favorite albums ever!” 
“really?” you watched him light up, “i love it too. the production is just amazing.”
“i don’t know anything about production, but i love the music.”
“funny story,” he let out a small laugh, “me, chan, and changbin, my coworkers here, used to try and produce songs. it didn’t work out though, we never took off. that’s when chan opened this shop.”
“i’m sure you’re good. what did you guys do?”
“mostly rap,” he took a few of the vinyl covers into his hands, placing them back in between the shelves, “but i can sing. i like to play guitar too, and the piano sometimes. i’m also a dancer.”
“the singing behind the counter didn’t sound all that promising. maybe you should stick to rapping.”
“i wasn’t doing it justice! i was singing tone deaf!” he argued back as if he were annoyed.
“you should let me hear you sing, then.”
“no way!” he stood back up, “there’s too many people here. i’ll get shy.” 
“weren’t you supposed to be all flirty and cocky?”
“not in front of everyone. only pretty girls.”
“then serenade me, and maybe i’ll fall for you.”
“after my shift.”
“promise?”
“fine.”
“i’ll wait here until you’re done, then.”
“no fair! aren’t you supposed to sleep soon? it’s almost five in the morning!” 
“what time do you get off?”
“what time can you get me off?” he smirked, avoiding the topic.
“that doesn’t even make any sense.”
“you win some you lose some,” he shrugged, beginning to walk back to the counter. the shop was as good as dead by now. 
“you aren’t getting out of this. i’m committed now,” you continued as you followed him, taking your seat back at the counter.
“my shift is over at five thirty,” he replies with a sigh, “then we can belt out until seungmin gets here while i clean the place up.” 
“seungmin?”
“early morning shift. annoying, mean, loveable,” he smiled to himself, cleaning off a dirty cup.
“so just like you,” you teased.
“more mean, less loveable like me.”
the last two customers had left, “have a good day!” 
“now its just us,” you commented, reminding him of the promise that he had made you.
“wait until a really good song comes on,” he groaned, refusing to let you see his burning ears.
“stop making excuses. pretty girls will never want to kiss you if you do that.”
“kissing is on the table?” jisung’s eyes widened, “you should’ve said something earlier!”
“you’re that desperate?” you watched him scramble to his shelf, shuffling through albums.
“are you gonna kiss me if i sing to you?”
“only if you’re good.”
that was enough confirmation for him to switch out the vinyl. 
“listen to this, baby. it’ll blow you away.”
you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the counter and smirking in amusement. but when he began to sing, your sly smile turned into wonder, intensely paying attention to his voice. 
he could feel your gaze burning into him, and he refused to meet it for fear of rejection. instead, he simply continued to wash dishes with shaky hands and a red face.
then his voice cracked. 
he closed his eyes, leaning down to yell out in embarrassment, “i can't sing in front of pretty girls!”
the song continued in the background, but jisung fell silent, clutching a wet metal straw in his hand.
you ignored his fuss, “and you’re telling me that people didn’t die for your voice?”
he fell silent. “you sound like an angel, jisung! you’re better than the guy on that track!” 
“he’s really good though,” he tried to change the topic from himself. 
you sighed, standing up from your stool and going behind the counters— nobody was here, and jisung wouldn’t mind, right?
grabbing his shoulders gently, you turned him around to face you, having to bite your lip to stop yourself from poking fun at his beet-red face. 
standing on the tips of your toes, you leaned up to match the height added from his platforms and planted a soft kiss on his lips.
his eyes widened as if he didn’t expect you to follow through with your promise.
“did you just kiss me?”
“no, i just sold your soul to a demon and the only way to do it is to touch my lips to yours.”
“can you do it again?”
“you’re so romantic,” you teased, leaning in once again as his hands met your waist.
“can i kiss you, like, a lot?” jisung stammered. 
“sure.” you had to admit, it was adorable watching him act so shy compared to how he flirted with you so effortlessly earlier. 
he pulled you out of your thoughts, lifting you onto the counter with muscles that you didn’t even know were behind his loose hoodie. 
you let out a yelp, but he quickly shut you up with a longer, more passionate kiss. 
his hands tightly held your waist and your own met his dark, messy hair. you tugged on it, making him groan as he deepened the kiss, tasting the espresso in your mouth. 
the two of you pulled away for air, taking in a deep breath, but jisung had every intention to continue.
“about getting off?” he joked, in a quiet, raspy tone from the kiss. 
the next thing you knew, you were being dragged into the bathroom, the mess of the café disregarded behind you. 
he slammed the door, then pushed you against it a little too desperately. 
“is this actually happening?” he thought out loud.
“whatever, let’s just do it.”
he nodded, pressing his lips against yours for the third time. you closed your eyes, losing yourself in his lips. you could hear the music faintly from behind the door, noticing the ringing in your ears from how loud it was. 
his hands traveled from your hips to your hair then back down to the hem of your shirt. he played with it for a moment, before snaking his fingers up to your bra, right about to unclasp it.
“han jisung!” both of you jumped at the screaming voice, snapping out of the moment as the bell from the store rang.
“tell me this is a fucking joke!” 
“shit, seungmin’s here,” he pulled away from your lips, out of breath. 
his hair was a mess and his black jeans were noticeably tight around him. he tried to pull himself together before seungmin would come barging into the bathroom. 
jisung tumbled out of the door right as the other barista turned the music off. 
you stalked behind him, readjusting your shirt with a face just as flustered as his own.
the boy massaged his temples, “look, i don’t care if you turn this place into a bar for your night shifts. that’s for you and chan to worry about, but you left me all of this mess with only thirty minutes until we open again.”
jisung glanced back at you, watching you contain your giggles as he got scolded.
“hell! we’re still open! you never even bothered to flip the sign! or shut off the lights! or turn off your music!” 
jisung turned back to meet seungmin’s frustrated face.
“i got carried away, there was this really hot girl and we both,” he stopped his story there, sighing. 
“just please don’t tell chan.”
“chan won’t hear about it unless you get to work immediately and clean this place up!”
“on it!”
you watched the boy scramble to work as you finally let your laughter spill from your lips.
“if i were you, i wouldn’t get involved with that guy,” seungmin turned his attention to you, “he’s a mess.”
“but he’s kind of cute,” you defended, “do you, by chance, have his number?” 
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