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#also their size difference seen through hands is cute as well
not-your-lifeline · 9 months
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this is so pure and wholesome... I love it.
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yu-huuuu · 4 months
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Omg! I just read your Uchiha boyfriends and how they deal with their SO's period and I loved it! Sasuke's is hilarious!
Have you seen the video of a guy's gf teaching him and walking him through tampons via a tampon and a glass of water? That's ALL I was imagining during Sasuke's...XD
So, since that would be hilarious, could I ask for headcanons with the Uchiha bfs with that in mind? Or if that's too little context, maybe the period cramp simulators with how far they go before dropping to the floor in pain/how they treat their SO after that? I love your writing, binging all you have on Tumblr rn❤️👏🏻💙💜
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[ 🌸 ] Lmaaao nonnie thanks and love u for asking this 😂😂
characters: itachi uchiha, obito uchiha, madara uchiha, sasuke uchiha, shisui uchiha
genre: fluffy with a touch of comedy
warnings: none, mentions of intimate moments, mention of tampons, menstrual cups, vaginas you know things from month to month, menstrual simulators, pranks, adult men somewhat traumatized by their girlfriends
Also add menstrual cups to the mix because I'm in love with them :>
oh, i think this video is the one nonnie is talking about! (It was also the first one that appeared to me 😂) ⭐️
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..
.
Itachi Uchiha
— Several things will happen at the same time.
— His mind will go blank as his face turns slightly pale.
— And his eyes will open a bit as he watches the cotton transform Sailor Moon-style.
— Except there are no sparkles and cute outfits.
— No.
— Not at all.
— There is an abominable thing the size of his entire hand floating in the water.
— Itachi won't look at you the same way, especially when you're in the bedroom during one of those intimate moments.
— Even though you already told him it was just a joke, the poor man will be worried.
— He'll look at your hole wondering if it's okay inside (I promise it's okay, Itachi 💀).
— For your own good and for his... don't show him menstrual cups.
— He now knows that the tampon doesn't deform when it's inside you.
— But you have to fold a cup to put it into your tight hole and when it's inside it just... puff returns to its original shape and... are you okay…?
— No, bad idea.
— Just no.
— Don't show it to him.
— As for the menstrual cramp simulators...
— Haha
— You like to see him suffer, don't you?
— Look, pretty woman.
— There's something called being human.
— Itachi, despite being a shinobi, is human (a very cute one, by the way).
— And Itachi, like any other human, feels every sensation he experiences throughout the day. Sometimes he feels more than you, he just doesn't show it due to his perfect control over his emotions.
— But all that control goes out the window when you turn up the power on the cramp simulator.
— He stays like this: "😨," but it's so subtle you don't know if you're imagining it. Meanwhile, the poor man feels his stomach contracting with pain until his breath catches a bit.
— Itachi is a shinobi, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel pain.
— He's used to a different kind of pain, not this one, you know?
— Poor thing.
— He won't look at you the same way after this... probably not at any woman.
— He'll drink his "respect for women" before starting or ending the day.
— He also now has some fear of touching you; sometimes you won't feel his touch completely when you're on those days (you tried to touch him to see if he was okay and all because you saw he was a bit pale, and he looked like he wasn't breathing when the simulator was at its maximum power. Don't worry, the poor guy was just too sensitive from the pain and now he thinks you get like that too, haha).
— In general, he won't change much. Well, now he brings you more sweets whenever he can and also makes bigger portions of food.
— He's also grateful to you because you've now given him a new experience and opened his eyes to topics or situations that, as a man, he never would have thought about, haha.
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Obito Uchiha
—If your vagina is a muscle and it stretches with a tampon, does that mean you're exercising internally? (I don't think that happens, but good shower thought, Obito!)
—Pretty boy
—At first, he's very excited when you told him you wanted to show him something.
—He's like a little kid when you want to show him something.
—Except now it looks like you just told him Santa isn't real while taking away his Christmas present.
—He'll say something like: “Wait, that thing gets like that when it's inside you 😦?” while looking at the glass in horror.
—Congratulations, girl, you traumatized an innocent man, lmao.
—No, but seriously.
—Obito will now be distrustful of tampons.
—He might calm down, but then he'll get alarmed when he watches videos or reads about “how to insert a tampon in ten easy steps without pain.”
—And he'll be traumatized again when he sees how far you have to insert the tampon.
—What do you mean the string hangs out..?
—And then you have to pull it out?! Doesn't that hurt?
—Oh, don't get me started on menstrual cups.
—Just no.
—Never show your man the cups.
—No.
—Please, no.
—Just don't.
—At least he was excited when you showed him the period cramps simulator.
—The guy smiled until you turned on the device and he was just like.
—He asked you what level it was on, and when you told him it was on eight, he just said: “What do you mean eight? How many levels does it have?”
—You swear he's going to start crying thinking about all the times he had to run an errand or was called by the Hokage and had to leave you.
—He'll apologize almost crying as you increase the level.
—You can ask him what he means, but I advise you not to.
—You'll make him cry like a baby while he clings to you and apologizes for leaving you alone so many times, making you suffer all this pain *dramatic music starts playing*.
—Lmao.
—Obito will feel proud of you for facing this kind of thing every month.
—He might now say something like: “That's it, babe, fight those cramps!” while you're curled up in bed trying not to cry from the pain.
—It's not out of bad intentions, he's just trying to cheer you up the best he can, haha.
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Madara Uchiha
—He will stare at the glass intently and then at you.
—Please do not interrupt his thoughts.
—He is imagining how the whole process happens.
—“Are you telling me that piece of cotton…”, and he can no longer continue while looking at the floating cotton.
—Just like Itachi, he won’t look at your little hole the same way.
—He will stay thoughtful, wondering if it returns to its normal form every time.
—It might kill the moment.
—Lmao.
—He might also offer his help to put a tampon in you.
—Just tell him yes.
—You will make him feel like he’s doing something important.
—With menstrual cups… mmm.
—He will congratulate you… for some reason.
—It’s not a big achievement, Madara, but we appreciate your words.
—He will look at you a little worried and at the same time proud while you fold the cup to insert it in yourself and he just…
—“That’s my woman, you can do anything, darling.”
—Uhh… yes, well,
—We’re talking about a man who grew up in a time of war, and don’t get me wrong, it’s not like he doesn’t know where the clitoris is.
—He simply doesn’t know and has no idea that the vagina is elastic, xd.
—Please explain it to him before he brags to someone about how you can handle everything.
—As for the menstrual cramps simulator:
—He is a strong man.
—Who said it would hurt him?
—Clearly, they’re out of their minds, he is Madara Uchiha.
—At least that’s what he thinks before you turn on the device.
—And he’s simply like: “What do you mean this is how you feel every month?”
—Madara is not dumb or forgetful.
—He has seen your naked body when you’re on those days.
—And suddenly it makes sense why your belly looks slightly more swollen when you’re menstruating.
—For Madara, it hurts slightly or at least that’s what he wants to imply.
—Maybe he will never tell you it hurt, but that’s okay.
—At least he took this experience as a lesson to know what else to do and how to act during those days of the month.
—“Madara, darling… why are there many more pillows on the bed?” “They’re for you to be more comfortable.”
—Poor man.
—At least he’s trying!
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Sasuke Uchiha
—His worst enemy has returned.
—The tampons *dramatic music plays*.
—Ok, no.
—Anyway.
—You're so cruel, girl.
—He swears he'll burn all the tampons in the world while looking at the abominable thing floating in the water.
—He's like...
—Do you put that thing inside and it enlarge…?
—On the outside, his face will remain moderately calm (I'm joking, he already looks disturbed), but on the inside, his face is like: “💀”.
—Even if you tell him it's a joke, he won't shake that image from his head.
—For a whole week, he thought your vagina was filled with tiny cotton residues for some reason.
—Until you explained that was impossible.
—(He still thinks that to this day). Anyway!
—Ehh, cups...! They're fun and comfortable things!
—Until you see them from a man's perspective and things change.
—No, please, no.
—He can't imagine a CUP inside you.
—Out of curiosity, he looked up menstrual cups on the internet and now swears he'd burn menstrual cups too if he could (cups can't hurt you, Sasuke).
—Anyway.
—As for the simulators...
—He might refuse at first until he starts thinking about how he could benefit from this (you know, new knowledge, more power).
—So he decides to put himself in his girl's shoes to see the whole picture.
—He began to regret it when you raised the intensity to seven.
—His face might turn pale when you explain that some menstrual cramps feel like labor pains.
—He'll stare at the highest intensity level wondering if he's ready for that.
—Spoiler: he wasn't.
—At least now he buys you more ice cream and makes you hot chocolate with marshmallows on top, even though he hates the smell of chocolate.
—He'll also start reading more about the female body, looking for ways and methods to make it hurt less.
—So it's likely he'll now regulate the amount of black foods and drinks you consume (you know: chocolate, coffee, cola, etc.), all because he read in a study that black-colored beverages and foods are a key factor in intensifying cramps during the period.
—Good luck with your boyfriend being more protective than ever ;)
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Shisui Uchiha:
—"Do you want to show me something...? Sure! What is it?" he'll ask with the most innocent and soft voice, that you'll wonder if it's too cruel to play this prank on him.
—Poor guy.
—You do it anyway.
—Lmao, I think there's no emoji that describes the face he made in those moments.
—When he composes himself, he'll be torn between looking at you and the glass container.
—Because gosh.
—Does that thING really react like that when it's inside you?
—Before, he was fine with seeing you use them.
—He knows it's much more comfortable for you, but now that he sees it in the container...
—He doesn't know what to think.
—The guy is still terrified.
—Poor thing, his soul left his body and greeted God before returning to you.
—He might laugh a little when you tell him it's a joke while trying to act normal.
—But eventually his imagination will fly and he'll start thinking: "What if it gets stuck?" "What if the string breaks?" (It's impossible for that to happen, Shisui).
—Of course, he's a smart guy.
—He'll practically run to investigate more about tampons until his mind is at ease.
—But accidentally he saw menstrual cups and...
—"What do you mean cups are also inserted?" he half yelled into nothing.
—Oops.
—You'll have to explain.
—"Cups are friends, not enemies, Shisui..." "But what if it gets stuck?"
—You swear he's about to cry.
—Luckily!
—He'll get over it in a few days (it lasted a week and another while he tried to recap what happened, and the new information).
—The cramp simulator is great.
—It can last quite a while, you know, smiling and looking handsome as always, until you raise it to maximum power.
—You think you broke something when suddenly it falls and you think you killed it.
—Oh.
—Don't worry!
—He's just suffering and recapping how all of this happened, also about all the pain you go through month after month and... Oh, is that an angel...? (No, Shisui, it's your girlfriend trying to motivate you to get up).
—Well.
—At the end of the day he thinks the same as Itachi; you've shown him the other side of the coin and he's grateful for that.
—He'll also be much gentler with you during these days of the month.
—And for some reason, if he finds out that Sasuke is not in favor of tampons and cups, they may secretly start a group against those things or something similar, it's also possible that they'll drag Itachi by force.
—Lmao.
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lmao, guess who search and watch videos about how to put tampons in her for the first time... and it didn't work 😭
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constantmourning · 1 year
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Confidence
[Price/Fem!Reader] [Gaz/Fem!Reader] [Soap/Fem!Reader] [Simon/Fem!Reader] [Poly!TF 141/Fem!Reader]
Summary: You haven't been feeling too confident lately. Your friends convince you to dress up to feel good, and you send them a picture of the end result. Except, you sent the pictures to the wrong group chat...
Word count: 6.9k (hehe)
Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!! No use of Y/N, Thigh slapping, finger sucking, p in v, lack of protection, creampie (x2), oral (male and female receiving), face sitting, praise, pet names. Let me know if i forgot something please, I'll be happy to tag it if i did!
A/N: Reader is written As PLUS SIZE! There are mentions of fat/stretch marks/self esteem issues and the likes! This got very long I'm sorry but also I hope you enjoy!! Also, half of this is Beta'd, the other half... well, we die like men...
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Your confidence had been at an all time low as of late. You weren’t sure what it was, but ever since joining Captain Price and not having your friends there to tell you just how great you looked every day, you really were down in the dumps.
Babes, I’m terribly upset
You text in your group chat with your friends. You waited for their answer. It felt like a century before someone responded.
Dear, what's wrong?
Finally, one of them had answered. You sighed and took a moment to respond.
I’ve been feeling like utter shit lately. Everyone around me is so… not built like me… I think it’s silly, but I don’t always feel beautiful.
You sent in the chat and immediately got a speech bubble.
Babe… I’m gonna tell you what helps me. Dress up all pretty. Do something to make you feel good. I promise it’ll help
You scrunched your face up.
I’ll try it. But if it doesn’t work I’m going to torment you forever
No response. You groaned and sat up. You decided it’d be best to try that. You looked through your things and found a cute underwear set and walked to your bathroom. Momentarily battling about putting on makeup, you decided to try it.
You sat in your bathroom for a good twenty minutes just doing your makeup. You then took another twenty minutes doing your hair. Everything was going to be undone, but if it was going to help you feel better, why not try it? You slipped into the cute underwear, black and lacy. You examined yourself in the mirror and smiled.
Remember, briefing tomorrow morning
-Captain Price
You remembered, and made a mental note to respond to his text a little later. You, instead of responding, began to take pictures of yourself in different positions. Once you were satisfied with some of them. You decided to throw a few into your group chat with your friends.
Validate me babes <3
You set your phone after you sent the pictures and just looked at yourself. You inhaled and placed a hand on your stomach. You pinched the fat there and sighed. Your phone went off, and then went off again. And again.
HUH?
-Gaz
oh fuck
-Soap
Wrong number?
-Ghost
You felt your heart stop. You wanted to vomit and run away and never be seen again by your teammates. Truly thinking about not responding and running away into the night, you scraped your nails through your hair. You grabbed your robe from the door and screamed into it. As loudly as possible without alerting anyone.
You grabbed your phone up and thought about being a grownup. Briefly.
WRONG GROUP CHAT
You then sent a barrage of different sad emojis and hoped the pictures would leave their minds.
There were no responses for the rest of the night. You went to bed just as you were; hair, makeup- You did put on comfortable pajamas though. You lied down and knew- just knew you would be getting an earful in the morning.
You grabbed your phone one last time and sent a group message to your girls, checking this time if it was really them.
Goodbye, I just wanted to say that. Since I will be simply passing away right now.
Immediate response.
What did you do???
I sent pictures to the wrong group chat. To the work group chat…
Your friends both, at the same time, asked what the pictures were. You sent the pictures and said nothing else. The chat erupted. Your friends were spamming you, different emojis, swears, memes. Anything. If they could send it, it was sent.
You lied on your back, looking up at the ceiling and you sighed. You were going to have to be an adult and face the men you really didn’t want to in the morning. You made that a problem for you in the future, and decided that sleep was the best option. You turned your phone off and slowly fell asleep. A pit in your stomach the whole time you waited for unconsciousness to overtake.
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You woke up with the exact same pit in your stomach. You threw on your uniform and walked as fast as you could to the room you were meeting at. You wanted to miss Soap, Ghost, or Gaz. You did not want to run into them.
You opened the door to the room and realized you’d be facing Price alone. That was until you saw everyone was already in the room. You looked at your watch. You were early… If you were early, what time did they get there? You did not want to think about it…
No one would look you in the eyes. Their demeanor had changed completely. But no one mentioned the photos. You stood, uncomfortably, away from everyone. You couldn’t take in any information that Price was giving you. You were hyper aware of everyone around you; their body language…
You watched as Soap balled and unballed his fist a couple times. His knuckles white.
Gaz’s chest was rising and lowering a little quicker than usual. You could tell through the gear. His eyes were trained ahead, looking directly at Captain Price.
Speaking of Price, his eyes would look right over you. You weren’t the best at eye contact anyway, but Price was not bad at it. You knew he was trying to be professional.
Your eyes moved to Ghost and they locked onto his. You, immediately looking away, noticed him shift. His eyes didn’t falter though. He seemed to be the only one looking at you.
You shifted your weight, swallowing hard. Gulping down air like your life depended on it. The tension in the room was too much. You wanted to explode. Instead of exploding, you did (in your mind) the second worst thing. You opened your mouth, and words actually came out.
“I’m sorry!”
Everyone went quiet. Price stopped speaking and all eyes were on you. You gulped again and took a step back, distancing yourself even more. Price was the first to speak up. His brow cocked and you waited for his response. “For what?” He did sound genuinely confused, so you didn’t take it as him pretending to be stupid.
“Uh-” Your eyes scanned the room. You did the thing you were best at, word vomit. “Well, I’m sorry for sending those pictures! It was unprofessional and I didn’t check the group I was in- I was just- I meant to send it to-” You stopped yourself.
“To who?” Ghost asked, deadpan. But, you could almost see the smirk under his mask.
You, not knowing how to stop, kept going. “My friends. I wasn’t feeling good last night- Or the past couple o’ weeks really… My friends said, um, doing what I did would help me feel better! I mean, she did not tell me to send the picture in the work chat!” You put your hands up, no one stopping you from continuing. “I just wanted to feel cute… I guess…”
The room went silent. You made a face and held yourself back from stomping your foot or throwing a tantrum. You decided to be an adult, and wait for a response, one that felt like it was never coming. Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost all looked at each other before all staring at you. You pouted.
“What?”
“Do friends normally send pictures like that to each other?” Ghost cocked his head at you.
You wanted to throttle him. “Whatever. If this is done, can I leave?”
Price nodded, he knew you had retained nothing, but he didn’t say anything about it. “Free to go.”
You walked out of the room and began to walk towards your room. You felt tears prick your eyes and tried to hold yourself together, at least until you got to the comfort and loneliness of your room. You were seething. You didn’t know why, but you were mad. Mad at how they had acted, mad at how you had acted, and mad that the pictures were sent to them in the first place. You got to your room, slammed your door, and threw yourself down on your bed.
You curled up and decided it was best to skip lunch that day.
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A knock came from the other side of your day and you held back the urge to tell whoever it was to go away. You threw yourself out of bed and walked towards the door. Forgetting that you had puffy eyes from crying, you opened the door. Price stood there.
“Hey, you weren’t in the mess hall-” He stopped when you wiped your eyes. “Are you crying?”
You pouted harder. Price sighed. You groaned and moved to the side, motioning for Price to come in. You did not want everyone to see you looking like a mess. Price walked in and you shut the door. You placed your back against it and looked at him.
“Are you alright?” He gave you a concerned look.
“I’m fine.” You lied. Terribly.
Price’s head dropped slightly. “You had said this morning you weren’t feeling-”
“Captain,” You sighed. “I’ll be fine. Just horribly embarrassed. It’ll go back to normal once no one looks at me differently.”
Price’s brows furrowed. “If they don’t?”
You blinked at him. Why would he say that? You felt tears forming again. “Captain-”
“I know you don’t want to hear it from me-” Price started, “And would obviously prefer it from your friends,” He smiled at you softly, and got closer to you, “but, you are stunning. You should not feel the need to be validated, but you should know you are beautiful.”
Something hit you; whether it was the eye contact, what he said, or how he said it, you weren’t sure, but whatever it was sent you into a frenzy. You, without thinking, grabbed Price’s face and kissed him. Hard. Your lips hit his and you realized what you were doing. The kiss was over as fast as it started. You threw yourself back and began to profusely apologize. 
“Holy shit!” You were stunned at your actions, “That was so inappropriate, I’m so sorry.”
Price was as stunned as you. You watched him with wide eyes and he processed everything that had just happened. Nothing was being said. It was a deafening silence. Price watched you closely, his eyes dropping from your to your lips. His hands cupped your cheeks and he brought you into another kiss.
You eagerly kissed back, pressing against him. He pushed forward, your back pressing against the door. His tongue traced your bottom lip and you slowly opened your mouth for him. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and nothing was stopping either of you.
Until your stomach growled.
Price pulled away and looked down at you. “Look, you need to eat and I’m not sure we should do this-”
“I want this…” Your voice was barely audible, just loud enough for Price to hear.
“How about…” He paused, “you go eat. And think about this-”
“I’m not going to lie now, Captain Price,” You bit the inside of your lip, “I’ve been thinking about you, and the others for a while now.”
“Me and who?” He questioned you, brows knitting together.
“Um, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost… I think about you four all the time. Um, too much actually.” You stop yourself before going further. “Sorry, that's too much truth.”
Price laughs, “Okay… Go eat. Think on this. Text me when you’ve eaten.”
You nodded. “Yes sir,” You did a little salute. Price moved and let you out from your spot. You opened the door and both of you walked out of your room. You, pretending like Price did not just have his tongue in your mouth, walked off for lunch. As you were leaving, Soap walked up. He looked at Price in confusion.
“Why were ya in her room?”
Price smiled at him. “We may be doing a team bonding exercise later.”
“What does that mean?” Soap was quick to ask. Price was quick to ignore. He started to walk off, away from Soap, agitating him. “C’mon! You can’t say that and then not elaborate!”
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Your mind was racing the whole time you ate. You could only focus on one damn thing; your earlier actions. And Price's words. Heat prickled across your cheeks as you ate and you made up your mind.
You wanted to do whatever it was Price had been thinking about.
You finished up your food and began to head back to your room. You just had to get a hold of Price, you had to tell him what you had thought about. But not before coming face to face with Soap.
"What happened earlier?" His brows were furrowed and his lips were turned down. "Wait, have you been crying?"
You groaned. "Fuck, it's still noticeable?" You looked back at Soap, "Where's the Captain?"
It was his turn to groan, "I'll take you to him."
You smiled widely and thanked him. He began to lead you to the barracks, the men's barracks. Your stomach flipped and you felt butterflies instantly. You kept your eyes trained ahead, on the back of Soap. Your heart was racing and your cheeks were burning.
"Did Price get to you first?" Soap turned to ask.
You blinked at him, shocked. "Huh?"
He shook his head, mumbling 'nothing' before leading you Price's door. He knocked and there was silence for a minute, before the door opened. Price's eyes fell from Soap and back to you. Price smiled and motioned for you to come in.
Soap began to leave and you grabbed his hand. "Can he come in too?" Your words caught Soap's attention. He froze and looked back at Price.
Price's smile turned into a toothy grin. "Of course."
You pulled Soap in behind you and Price shut the door. You held Soap's hand like a lifeline, a nervousness taking over that only hand holding could help. Soap didn't seem to mind. You looked at Price with a curious expression and finally asked, "What now?"
"Well, we have to lay down some ground rules, and let Soap in on what's going on."
"Please fucking do! What's going on?"
Price looked at you, for you to tell him. Your stomach turned. You swallowed hard and looked at Soap, letting go of his hand. "Um, I talked with Price this afternoon, before I ate. I told him about-" your eyes cut from Soap to Price, who gave you an encouraging nod, "-about liking the four of you. I thought about it, like you asked," you looked to Price again, "and I'm up for-"
"A team bonding exercise?" Soap asked.
You nodded. "If you wanna call it that."
Soap very much so wanted to call it that. He wanted to bond with his men over you. You were unaware- oblivious to the fact that all of them seemed to want that. But, now, the opportunity had presented itself so perfectly. Soap wanted nothing more than to launch himself at you. But he waited.
"Go get Gaz and Ghost." Price looked at Soap before his eyes hit you. Your heart fluttered and you looked at Soap, who was ready to protest.
"Why do I have to go get them? Call them!" Soap's hand snaked around your waist.
"Soap…" Price's eyes narrowed. "I'll take care of her, go get them." Price pulled you from Soap's grasp and Soap groaned. He mumbled a 'whatever' under his breath and left the room.
You watched Soap refrain from slamming the door and moved your gaze to your Captain. You bit the inside of your lip and your arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, hugging yourself.
"C'mere." Price motioned you over. Your feet were heavy and your eyes were wide. You couldn’t move. You inhaled sharply and your hands dropped to your sides. Price watched you like a hawk, “You still up or this? You can back out at any time.” You only nodded. “We’ll set ground rules as soon as Soap gets back with the boys.”
“Until then?” You asked, head cocking to the side.
“We can do whatever you want.”
You nodded again. Anxiety crept in, and even though you knew you could do what you wanted, you needed to ask. “Can I kiss you?” You whispered. Price nodded. You were on him in an instant. Your lips were on his, arms wrapped around his neck. He smiled into the kiss. This time, you traced your tongue over his bottom lip. He eagerly opened his mouth for you, and your tongue slipped in.
Price’s teeth ever so slightly bit down, gently scraping your tongue. You moaned. Price smiled again. His hands rested on your hips and he pulled you closer to him. He began to back up and he soon reached his bed. He sat down on the edge of it and you froze. Suddenly, you were aware, very much so, of him and yourself. You looked at Price, he looked up at you through his lashes.
Without saying a word, he placed his hand on his upper thigh, and patted. Everything in you screamed for you to sit down, but you were stuck standing in front of him. Price’s lips turned downward and his brows furrowed. You shifted your weight and looked at him with an apologetic expression.
“Love,” Price reached his hand out for you, “what’s wrong?”
You grabbed his hand and sighed, “I don’t wanna sit on your lap because, what if-” You stopped yourself. Price’s brows furrowed and he asked for you to continue. You refused.
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
You threw your head back and whined, “I don’t wanna be too heavy.” You didn’t want to say it too loud. You felt silly enough already. But it was a real fear, being rejected because of your weight.
Price gave you a soft smile, “Don’t even think that way, I promise it’ll be fine.” Price motioned for you, once again, to sit on his lap. So, you did. You didn’t place all of your weight immediately, and he could tell you obviously didn’t want to. So he would coax you. You were sitting on one of his thighs, uncomfortably if you were being honest. Until Price took matters into his own hands.
Price’s heel rose from the floor, catching you off guard. Your back arched and you grabbed his shoulders. “What are you-” His foot dropped, taking all of you with it. All of your weight pressed down on his thigh now, and as soon as his foot hit the floor his hands were on your hips. You instinctively grinded into him and let out an embarrassing whimper.
The door of the room opened and you looked back, unmoving. Soap and Gaz walked into the room, and your heart jumped into your throat when Ghost walked in right behind them. He closed the door and everyone was staring at you. You wanted to hide your face but there was nowhere to hide. Your whole body was hot and you couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of their eyes on you and how good Price’s thigh felt against you. Price lifted his heel again, and before you could prepare yourself, it hit the ground. You moaned.
“What the fuck?” You grumbled.
“Sorry, love,” Price smiled, “I had to show them your reaction.” Price gripped your hip before releasing it and looking at the guys. “There are some things we need to go over before we get down to business.” Soap, Ghost, and Gaz all nodded, listening closely. “We need a safe word.”
They all looked at you. You were confused momentarily. “Uh, red? Like y’know, green, yellow and red? If I’m good I’ll tell you green, if I’m iffy I’ll tell you yellow, and red is just hard stop.”
They all nodded in agreement with you. Soap was the first to speak up, “What first?” You shrugged, feeling very shy all the sudden. Price gripped your hip before releasing it, and you looked at him for reassurance.
“You decide, darling.” Price looked back at the guys and then at you, “Who first?”
You said the first thing that came to your mind. “Gaz.” You looked back at him and watched him ball his fists, before relaxing. He smirked at you and Price stood you up. “You’re feelings aren’t hurt right?” You looked around the room.
“Bonnie,” Soap smiled at you, “we’ll all get a chance, no hard feelings.”
“You’re just saying that,” Gaz elbowed him, “You wanted to be first.” He then promptly ignored Soap’s angry stare and approached you. Price stood up from his bed and he, Ghost, and Soap watched you closely. Your body was set ablaze and you just focused on Gaz.
“Please, kiss me?” Your voice was soft, your arms behind your back. Eyes cutting through your lashes as you looked at Gaz. You did not have to ask again. He was on you instantly and his hands were cupping your face.
He backed you towards the bed and you fell down. You scooted up the bed and Gaz was on you again. This time, he was kissing your neck. Your mewls filled the room. You had no clue what to do with your hands. You were pulling at the sheets and then started to pull at Gaz’s shirt. He eagerly pulled it off.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes, yeah?” He asked, so politely, how could you deny him?
“I don’t know…” You answered. Suddenly, you couldn’t look him in the eyes. You were staring at the ceiling and playing with the cover beneath you.
“You don’t have to,” Gaz nuzzled your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. “We can work towards that.”
You nodded, “Okay,” a breathy whisper escaped you. Gaz worked wonder with his hands, he grabbed at your hips and his fingers ran up your side, just under your shirt, causing you to gasp. Goosebumps rose on your skin. With eyes shut tight, you spoke up, “You can take my shirt off.”
Gaz smiled into your neck and pushed himself up. You sat up and helped Gaz help you out of your shirt. You sat there in your bra and the cool air made you realize what you had just done. Your hands went to cover your abdomen and Gaz frowned. He placed a hand on yours but did not dare move your hands away from you.
“You’re beautiful… I-” He stopped himself, “We can show you that if we need to.”
You bit the inside of your lip, “I’m gonna be honest. I’ve never felt comfortable in these situations… Well, actually, I’ve never been in this situation, with multiple men… I never even felt comfortable with just one.”
The energy in the room shifted immediately. Before, it was just horny, then it quickly changed to something more serious. Gaz nodded, understanding. “We can stop if you get too uncomfortable. Where are you right now?”
“Green.” You grew more comfortable, even if it was just with him at that moment. You moved your hands from your stomach and placed them, palms down on the cover, beside you. Gaz gave you a soft smile and nodded. “You can continue.” You reassured him. He did just that.
You leaned back on the bed and let Gaz take over again. His hands ran up your sides and towards your bra. You arched your back and let him unclasp it. You shimmied out of it and he threw it to the side. You laid back on the mattress and looked up at Gaz, who was staring at you as if you were a gift from whatever God was listening to him when he prayed.
One of his hands moved for your chest and you gasped. His hands were warm and calloused and something about his touch was so calming. He massaged your breast and lowered himself to your neck again. Your back arched harder and your hips bucked upwards slightly, causing Gaz to groan into your neck.
You had almost forgotten other men were in the room. Almost. "Ugh" Soap groaned, "could you go any slower, Gaz?" You laughed at his remark. Genuine and loud. Gaz grumbled into your neck and pushed himself up.
"I'm going to ignore him now," Gaz looked dead at you, you were the only one in the room according to him. You smiled at him and nodded. Gaz kissed your jawline, down your throat and headed for your chest. He briefly paused at your nipples, a hand playing with one while the other got sucked on. You moaned and whined at him, the sound of the other men shuffling around the room not even detering you.
Gaz's hands moved towards your belt and you tensed. You said nothing though. But Gaz still noticed you tense. He froze and looked up at you, one of his brows cocking. "Green," you whispered, still focusing only on him. He gave a nod and made quick work of your belt. It was pulled off of you in no time. You kicked off your shoes and Gaz began to pull down your pants. You lifted your hips to make it easier, and soon enough you were just laying there in your panties.
You were nearly completely exposed to them. Your thighs, stomach, stretch marks, all of it on display. Part of you didn't care, but part of you was terrified. Gaz's fingers gently traced your stretch marks and you froze up.
"Yellow." You blurted out, without really thinking.
Gaz was off of you in an instant. "You okay, love?" Price and Gaz asked at the same time.
"Uh, sorry," You sat up, resting on your forearms, "not used to this attention. I was a little uncomfortable." They all looked at you, attentively. "We can continue."
"How would you feel…" Gaz trailed off, thinking hard, his fingers tracing patterns on your thighs again. "Sitting on my face?"
Your heart jumped into your throat. How were you going to survive? Your eyes widened and you pulled yourself up, trying to comfort yourself. "What if… what if it's too much?"
"What?" Gaz, seemingly genuinely confused, cocked his head. "What if what's too much?"
You gave him a deadpan expression as if he should know. "I don't wanna crush you with my thighs!"
"What an honorable and lovely way to go, though!" Gaz gave you a goofy grin.
You thought for a moment, "Okay, but can we do it my way?" You played with the sheets beneath you. Gaz hummed, asking what your way was. "Uh, you lay on the floor and I'll sit on your face." Your face was suddenly burning as you said the rest of your thought, "So I can I suck one of their dicks." Your words ran together and you tried to hide your face.
"Hey, no need to be shy now!" Gaz comforted you. "Anyway, I'm sure I know one of them is absolutely dying for you to suck his dick." Gaz whispered to you. You laughed, causing the others to wonder what was being said.
Gaz moved off of you and got on the floor. He laid down and patted his chin, waiting for you to get up and take a seat on his face. The others looked at you with confusion. They couldn't help but wonder what you had planned. You stood up and wondered how to not awkwardly take your panties off. You decided it didn't have to be awkward, you were with four men who were ready to throw themselves at you (well, Ghost hadn't yet…), you didn't need to feel so self conscious.
Yet, there you were, being self conscious. "Do you have to watch me while I take off my panties?"
"Well, what else are we supposed to watch, love?" Ghost adjusted himself, causing a pit to form in your stomach.
You grumbled a 'fine', and slid off your panties. You made your way to Gaz, who was more than ready to devour you. You got on your knees, one on each side of his head and looked at the other guys. Gaz placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer down to him.
"Don't be afraid to sit all the way down." He smiled against your thigh, causing you to melt.
"Soap," You had said his name with a lust in your voice you weren't sure you were capable of. He perked up. "C'mere." You motioned for him to come over. He was on you as soon as possible.
"May I?" You grabbed up at his belt. Gaz kissed up your thigh, closing in on your pussy. Your thighs clenched around him without you meaning to and you immediately apologized.
"Fuck," Soap groaned, "You're so gorgeous…" That caused you to look back up at him through your lashes. Soap was promptly pulling his belt off for you. He unbuttoned and unzipped them so fast you were unable to process his movements.
Gaz licked a stripe up your pussy and you gasped. “Fuck…” Your voice was soft and weak. You focused back on Soap and looked up at him. Your hands moved to his waistband and you bit your bottom lip. You pulled at his underwear and you were immediately at eye level with his cock. Your hand wrapped around it and you began to softly pump it, the head already dripping precum. You slid his dick into your mouth.
Everything was going on at once. You were trying to focus on Gaz absolutely going to town on you, you were trying to focus on sucking Soap’s soul straight from his body, while also trying to focus on looking okay for Ghost and Price. Which, in all honesty, you didn’t need to try to do that at all. In their minds you were already perfect.
Soap’s cock hit the back of your throat and you gagged. You couldn't help it. Soap's hands tangled in your hair and he held you steady, which you were thankful for. Gaz was putting his mouth to good use and you needed all the help you could get. If you weren't so concerned with Gaz and Soap you would have heard Ghost and Price groaning and grunting on the other side of the room.
You looked up at Soap, tears pricking your eyes, and he pulled your hair, guiding you up and down his cock. "Good girl," he grunted, causing you to have a reaction.
Gaz was going to town under you. His tongue lapping you up as quickly as possible. His hands gripped your hips tight, holding you down while his fingers dug into the skin. You lost it. You settled completely on Gaz's face and moaned onto Soap's cock. Gaz's nose rubbed against your clit and you were sent over the edge immediately. You gripped Soap's outer thigh and tried your best to keep going as your first orgasm hit you. Soap saw you struggling and pulled away, leaving you a mess.
"Kyle!" You moaned out. Gaz did not slow. In fact, you saying his name only caused him to go harder. Your hands hit the floor and your nails dug into the wood. You started to grind onto Gaz's face, a whining and whimpering mess. No words were forming. At least not properly. "Please- Fuck, I-"
Gaz slowed and his grip loosened on you. You pushed yourself up, or tried, Gaz helped you move off his mouth and you were left sitting on your knees, hunched over and reeling.
"Holy shit."
"You still good?" Ghost asked from across the room. You nodded. "Wonderful, because we're just getting started."
You looked up and noticed Ghost was still in uniform. He had obviously been masturbating, but he was fully clothed. Price however, was not. He stood naked, his hand pumping away at his cock. You wanted him. He caught your glance and immediately stopped jacking off. You sat up straight but your eyes cut away from him.
"Mind if I join, dear?" He smirked at you. Words were still not forming. You motioned for him to walk over and made his way towards you. He easily pulled you up and walked you over to the bed. He set you down and you took a moment to catch your breath. You looked up at Price, and sighed.
"I forgot to mention," you finally formed a sentence, "I'm on birth control." Price smiled at this. It was your way of saying 'Please rawdog me right now' and he understood instantly. He lowered himself to your level, lips pressing to your ear.
"Wanna be on top?" Price whispered, chills running up your spine.
"I don't know…"
"Whatever you want to do is fine, love, but I'd love to watch you ride my cock-"
"Okay." You are hooked instantly. His tone, his accent? He did not have to repeat himself. Before you knew it, he was laying on the bed and you were positioned over him. You grabbed his cock and started to gently rub up and down it, before lowering yourself onto him. You whimpered, Price steadying you. He watched you closely. 
“Good girl, that’s it,” He grunted. His hands rested on your thighs. You were still so sensitive. You had a feeling you were going to be sensitive for the rest of the day.
“Captain…” You moaned out, not entirely sure where it came from. But it did something to Price. His hips bucked up immediately. You gasped. You were bouncing up and down, slowly at first. Your hands rested on Price’s chest to steady yourself, your legs still wobbly from the earlier interaction with Gaz.
The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the room. Your whimpers and all of their groans and grunts filled the barracks, most likely. Your pace picked up and Price slapped his hand against your thigh, the smack ringing in your ears. The sting only turned you on more. “Fuck,” Price’s teeth were gritted, “love, you’re taking me so well.”
Your eyes shut tight and your mouth fell agape. One of your hands grabbed his, the one that rested on your thigh, and you were coming undone again. “John-” You stuttered out his name, “John, I’m gonna-”
Your movements slowed, but Price kept bucking his hips, causing your second orgasm to hit faster than you thought. A string of curses left your lips and your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Your stomach was in knots as you clenched around Price.
“Love, I’m-” He was so close… “Where?”
“Inside.” It was so clear and coherent. Price did not argue.
His hips bucked up a couple more times and suddenly he was cumming as well. You leaned down and your whole body tensed. The feeling of his cum spilling out and rolling down your thighs was all you could think about. Price pushed himself up and kissed you, catching you off guard. You were kissing until one of the guys stopped groaning and spoke up.
“My turn.”
You pulled away from Price and looked over your shoulder. Ghost. You blinked at him a few times and Price moved you off of him. He stood up and let Ghost approach you. Ghost looked at Soap and motioned for him to get behind you on the bed.
“This okay?” Soap asked.
“Yeah-” You started. Ghost clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Oh. Green.”
“Atta girl,” The tone in Ghost’s voice caught you off guard. You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Sorry, love,” He began to pull his pants down, “but I’m not letting you on top. And the mask isn’t coming off.”
You nodded. Soap was behind you holding you. You began to wonder if Soap and Ghost had done something like this before… You, however, did not wonder for long. Ghost was on you quick, his mask pulled up slightly to kiss you. His hand was placed under your chin, keeping you in place. He pulled away from you and looked down at you, his eyes locking with yours.
Ghost’s fingers slipped down to your dripping pussy and he slid two fingers into you. He kept eye contact with you as he fingered you. You shut your eyes as he hit a spot you had never had someone reach with just their fingers and he clicked his tongue again.
“Look at me.” Ghost’s voice was gruff. Your eyes snapped back open and your chest heaved. “Good girl.” You were stuck trying to form a sentence again, and the word Ghost slid from your lips, but nothing else was intelligible. “Simon,” He leaned down to your ear, “You can call me Simon.”
You were sent into a frenzy. Your hips bucked up and as he dragged his fingers out of you, your hips tried to follow. You were putty in his hands. You were a blubbering mess once again. Another orgasm hit and you cried out for Simon. Your eyes screwed shut and you gripped onto Soap, who was still right behind you.
Simon pulled his fingers from you and slid them into your open mouth. “Suck.” He demanded. You looked at him through half shut eyes and shut your mouth, sucking on his fingers. Simon smiled under his mask, you could see him smirking under it as you eagerly sucked his fingers. He removed them from your mouth with a ‘pop’ and you watched him, waiting for his next move. Waiting to see what was next.
Simon grabbed your chin and made sure you stayed looking at him. “I’m going to fuck you, is that alright?” You nodded and he continued, “Soap is going to be here for moral support.” He patted your thigh. Soap’s hands rested on your hips, and as Simon said that, he gripped you tighter and placed a kiss on your shoulder.
‘Fuck,’ You thought, reeling from everything going on, ‘I’m going to need fucking support?’ You prepared yourself for what was to come. Simon told you to position yourself, and Soap, seeming to know the drill, helped you while Simon took his clothes off. Simon was completely naked except for his mask, and you were staring. Staring, and staring. Your head was resting on Soap’s stomach, and Soap was leaning back against the headboard of the bed. Simon crawled onto the bed and leaned over you, angling himself at your entrance. His eyes cut to Soap and moved back to you.
“Green,” You were eager for him to continue. So he did. Simon’s hips thrusted into yours, his pace slow and steady. Your legs were quick to wrap around his waist and Soap rubbed your shoulders. He whispered how good you were, how amazing you had been, and how hot you looked taking Simon’s cock.
Your cries grew louder, and you begged and pleaded for Simon to go faster. Simon grunted as he did so. His pace picked up and you were being plowed into within seconds of asking. Your head rocked back and you looked at Soap.
“Johnny-” You whined, tears pricked your eyes, “Fuck-” You reached up for Soap, who was hard again, you could feel it, and you touched his face. Soap mumbled some swears but was quick to encourage you some more. “I can’t- Uhn-” Your legs tightened around Simon’s waist and you cried for him. His name ripped from your lips and you said it over and over. Moaning for more. Simon did not stop.
“You can-” Your words caught in your throat, “You can cum inside-”
Simon wasn’t far off from you. You were laying there, whining and mewling as he continued to wreck you. His thrusts began to pick up speed once more, until he finally came as well. His hips slowed slightly, and he placed his face in your neck. He moaned out your name and your stomach flipped.
Soap placed and a kiss on your forehead. “We can take a break if you need to?” You couldn’t answer. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Simon pulled out of you and you lied there in Soap’s arms for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. “Come on,” Price walked over to the bed, “Let’s get cleaned up.”
You didn’t move. Your legs felt wobbly and your brain was foggy. Your eyes cut over towards Price and you saw Gaz grow concerned. “You good?” He asked. You finally processed his words and gave a lazy thumbs up. This elicited a laugh from Simon.
After a couple minutes and Soap trying to get up, you stopped him. Your hand grabbed his bicep, “Wait,” Your voice was slightly hoarse from all the noises you had been making, “is this-” You froze momentarily, “Is this a one time thing?”
You could see them all look at each other and then back at you. They all started talking at the same time, “No!” “Of course not!” and “Do you want it to be?”
You sighed in contentment , “I think I could go for the occasional team bonding… If you guys are up for it of course!”
“Absolutely,” Simon leaned over you, “Now we really need to get this mess cleaned up.”
You smiled, agreeing, and let them help you. You had felt more confident than before, and while you knew you didn’t need to rely on others to make you feel that way, you hoped that whatever happened could continue.
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urfavlarry · 4 months
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If you're comfortable with that, maybe female reader getting the stars tattooed on her forearm sh scars? Like the "you drew stars around my scars" line by taylor swift. And some of the stars are just normal stars, some lines and some are stars drew by joost. And also maybe before tattooing them, her asking joost to draw stars on a piece of paper
You drew stars around my scars
Joost Klein x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of sh scars, swearing, some school trauma, back stabbing/fake friends, most likely bad grammar
genre: fluff/hurt comfort
summarry: Joost has never really noticed your sh scars despite being with you for almost half a year. You got used to covering them but you decided it would be a cute idea to get a tattoo on the things that caused you such sorrow in your high school years
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
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╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧。⋆
Joost kept asking you about what the stars were for all week, following you around and trying to get at least the slightest bit of information out of you. You never gave him a straight answer or you avoided the question completely. Joost was going mad, staying up with his thoughts and questions running through his mind like mathematical equations. What could you possible need him to draw stars for? A week ago you came up to him with your beautiful and sweet smile which lit up his day all the time. He hugged you, kissing you on the nose before letting you speak your mind. “Could you pretty please draw a few stars for me? Different sizes please.” You ask and he raises a brow at your mischief, but did as you told him, drawing you quite a lot of stars, circling the ones he like the most before handing the piece of paper to you. You smiled and kissed his forehead before going off somewhere.
A week later he was home alone while you were off somewhere in another country visiting a friend you haven’t seen for quite some time. Joost would’ve gone with you but he had important plans for the day of the departure which you understood. He texted every day, asking you how your day was and sending you videos or voice messages of him telling you and showing you how his day way and what he did. He missed you dearly but you were coming back tommorow night, which gave him so much energy he couldn’t even sleep from the pure excitement of seeing you again. You on the other hand were nervous. Of course, excitement filled your body from even thinking about going back but it was the first time you would be telling Joost about your high school years. Well it could go many possible ways, but you mostly tried to think about the positive outcomes. Joost wasn’t the type to get angry at someone for this, he’s going to be there for you and you’re confident in that statement.
Around 5:38AM you got to the airport, the plane was supposed to be departing at around 7:40AM. You texted Joost the whole time you were waiting for the plane, saying your goodbyes once you were supposed to board the plane. The hours felt like 15 minutes, getting off you took a uber home so you wouldn’t bother Joost. Once you got there, you walked to your shared apartment and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Anxiety filled every single part of you, but you tried your best to shake it off, unlocking the door and get greeted with the warmth of the apartment. A quiet curse could be heard in the room and a few crashes, which alarmed you but then again you’re living with Joost Klein, so you weren’t that scared. You walk to the living room/kitchen and see Joost there holding your favourite flowers and what looked like a hand made gift. You smile softly, walking over and hugging him, not letting him go for a few minutes. He looked tired but happy to see you, leaving kisses all over your face.
Spending the day with Joost was all you could’ve asked for, but he still didn’t notice the new tattoo that was on your upper arm. That’s where the scars that haunted you during your high school years were. You hoped he would notice them first because you didn’t have a clue how to even start that conversation. What would you even say? Hey so I hurt myself in highschool and got this tattoo! Cool ain’t it? Of course not! Little did you know that Joost noticed the tattoo, he was just trying to approach the subjest in a not ignorant way. He understood how you felt, life gets really tough and he’s sad to see you went through something so bad you had to go to that for comfort. He decided to run his fingertips along the scars, making you gasp slightly and put your hand on top of his. You look at him, beautiful ocean blue eyes looking at you with nothing but sympathy. “I.. uh, how do I start this..” You say, trying to explain yourself but Joost just brings you into a warm embrace. “You don’t need to explain yourself my love, I’m sorry you had to go through something so horrible to make yourself do this.” He says with comfort but hesitance, choosing his words carefully. It was clear he cared but he had no idea what to even say in this situation. “I think it’s time you know.” You say and he nods, kissing your forehead and grabbing your hands, and interlocking your fingers.
And so you tell him everything, from start to finish. How school overwhelmed you and never finding the right people at school, all of them always stabbing you in the back in some way. You felt like it was a silly reason, something that wasn’t as serious as other peoples problems but he made you push those thought away. “Everyone has their own struggles, none are bigger then the others. They are all the same. It’s something that bothers you and just because someone had a ‘better reason to do it’ , which is totally not true and nobody should say or think, you should never think they aren’t important and don’t need help because the internet says they aren’t valid.” His soft smile was intoxicating, slowly making your frown turn into the smile he so loved.
“Thank you, thank you so much Joost.” You say, tears threatening to fall. They weren’t sad tears, of course not they were the tears of pure relief and joy. He wiped your tears, kissing your cheek and then looks at you with his signature, cute smile. “Live the tattoo.” He says and you giggle, showing it off to him. His eyes light up when he sees the stars he drew, along with other stars. You told him about every single one and who they were from and what they had to do with it and why you even let them draw a star for you. He listened to every single word that came out of your mouth, asking about your silly tales every now and then, which made you even more excited to talk about it. Joost couldn’t stop looking st the tattoo, tracing both the scars and stars, taking multiple pictures and showing them off to both his fans and friends. “So proud of her.” He would say to everyone, which made your heart melt.
That night he made a promise with you. “I promise on our never ending love i’ll always be here whenever you feel down, unworthy, unloved, sad. I’ll always be here no matter the situatuon and promise to listen to your problems.” He says, kissing your soft lips and embraced you for what felt like the 100th time that day. You stayed like that in each others comfort, letting all the bad emotions wash away into the stars of the night sky, miles and miles away.
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
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╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧。⋆
!! do NOT copy or repost any of my work on other platforms !!
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sylusjinwoon · 4 months
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{ 166 }
too sweet.
jinwoo sung x fem.reader
{ you know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain | pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape | if you can sit in a barrel, maybe i’ll wait until that day… }
@nyashykyunnie said: HELLLOOOO. Since you granted me permission to request a daydream uhm… Jinwoo with a reader who hyperfixates on a lot of things! The fungi, the stars and most especially the sea!! Reader lovesloves whales and jellyfishes and sharks lots!! She loves the sea so much,,!!!!, She also draws a lot><!!! Art is her biggest passion most of all!! She’s like a free bird always so cheery and happy!! Loves all things pretty and cute! A very very childish reader who is just a ball of sunshine and energy!! Loves messing ariund with Jinwoo by putting little dabs of paint on his face heheh… And loves comparing hand sizes and cuddless><!!! Sorry it’s so long ueueueu
there were times when jinwoo sung had to wonder just how he got so lucky to be with someone as bright as you.
whereas he was the pure and true embodiment of darkness-
jinwoo was certain you were light personified.
everything about you was achingly sweet to the core-
too sweet, actually.
the moment he had fallen in love with you was one that happened so… naturally. that day, he had taken some time off in order to take his mother and sister to the nearest beach. he rented out a tiny cottage by the sea, giving them the perfect view of the ocean.
while his mother and sister spent some time walking on the beach together, jinwoo wanted to give them a chance to have the much needed mother-daughter moment they both deserved, deviating from the mainland beach when he sees rugged rocks with tide pools settled beneath the harsh terrain. he thinks about all the fascinating creatures that lived within such little pools and steps closer to the area.
however, the closer he got to the tide pools, the quickly he realized that he was not alone.
for settled against one of the rocks was a young woman that was sketching within the confines of her sketchbook-
it was you.
jinwoo was suddenly rendered speechless at the mere sight of you, taking a moment to admire the way your hair shone from beneath the sunlight. your cute features were turned into a look of concentration, with your lips pursed and your eyebrows furrowed in response.
as you inched closer to the shallow pool, you had somehow lost your balance and nearly face-planted within the waters-
had it not been for jinwoo’s quick thinking, making a mad dash toward you as he captured your frame within his arms. his eyes were glowing with amusement, fighting back a smile when he sweetly asks, “are you alright?”
jinwoo helps you safely lean back against the rock, with your hands gripping on tightly to his wrist before meeting his gaze.
not a hint of fear was seen settled in your eyes, and jinwoo found that he couldn’t look away from you. your smile goes wide as you eagerly introduced yourself to him. already mesmerized by your bright and sunny nature, he repeats your name, ready to introduce himself as well when you suddenly beat him to it.
“you’re jinwoo sung, i know.”
you know?
“that’s interesting.” jinwoo couldn’t stop himself from letting out a chuckle. usually, those that met him treated him like some celebrity or idol, getting tongue tied as they bowed down to him, stuttering out their greetings while avoiding his gaze-
but you-
you were oh so different.
your gaze met with his in an unflinching manner, with your lips tilted up in a smile that manages to make his heart pound in response. the more he looked at you, the more he could feel his heart becoming filled with your sweetness and light.
after trading pleasantries, he helps you down from the rock, walking along the beach with you while softly asking if he could see your sketchbook. you would give him a sheepish expression, your cheeks being filled with heat before giving him your sketchbook as you told him your sketches “weren’t much.” as he flips through the pages, you were clearly downplaying your talents as each and every sketch was filled with a vibrancy he had never seen before.
but that all changes when jinwoo sees a sketch of himself hidden amidst the pages.
your gasp and the way you immediately tried to take the sketchbook away from him was amusing, with jinwoo holding the book up high, his eyes glowing while they took in the sight of the drawing you had made of him.
from the soft expression to the way his hair was carefully layered, jinwoo couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride, seeing how pretty you had made him.
“beautiful…” after ensuring that your sketch of him was burned into his very memories, he returns it back to you, basking in your shy expression and the way you suddenly couldn’t meet his gaze.
“you weren’t supposed to see that. now, i’m sure you find me… strange, right?”
yet instead of teasing you further-
he asks you out on a date later that night.
and the moment you accepted his offer for a date-
the rest was history.
a single date meant as a simple thank you for allowing him to see your sketches turned into something a bit more frequent; a bit more permanent.
jinwoo would find himself spending every weekend to visit you, allowing the seemingly simple and innocent crush to grow into something much deeper.
and truly, how could he not fall in love with you?
each time you spoke passionately about your interests-
(of the sharks and colorful jellyfish that lives within the crystal blue depths of the ocean;
of the strange mushrooms seen growing within your backyard, seeming to have a life of their own as they lengthened and grew beneath the emerald green grass;
of the constellations seen shimmering within the night sky from beneath the light of the full moon…)
never once did jinwoo get tired of hearing your musings and rants that pertained to your current hyperfixations, and more often than not, he would find gifts for you that further helped strengthened your love for each and every one of your interests.
(an encyclopedia for the ocean creatures and various fungal life; a book that goes into each legend of each constellation seen within the night sky and a telescope…)
in jinwoo’s eyes, no gift was ever too much for you. for you were the sole person that stole his very heart at first sight.
when he finally put a label on his relationship with you, he swore he would never forget the look of utmost joy within your eyes. your sweet voice would call out to him before you wrapped your arms around his neck, already planting a kiss against his parted lips.
a choked sound of surprise escapes from jinwoo, making you gasp as you quickly pulled away from him. a slew of apologies were heard coming from you-
and jinwoo wasn’t having it.
with a grunt of your name, he keeps your head still before diving in for another kiss, basking in the way you momentarily let out a gasp before practically melting against him. in mere seconds, jinwoo quickly became addicted to the soft and sweet taste of your lips.
already so enamored with you, he pulls away from you, only to murmur against your lips, “you’re too sweet for me… but… i have a feeling i could get used to your taste…”
it came as no surprise when jinwoo decided to move in together with you, not being able to handle a single moment spent separated away from you. each and every day was spent in an almost blissful manner, with the s-rank hunter cherishing each and every part of you.
and tonight was no different.
for your one year anniversary, jinwoo had taken you back to the beach where you had first met, preparing a home cooked dinner that consisted of all your favorite foods. after your meal, you had laid against jinwoo’s chest while resting on the blanket, simply enjoying the colors that seemed to set the sky aflame while the sun began to set over the horizon.
jinwoo’s eyes were closed, simply basking in your warmth and the way the setting sun had painted his whole world in hues of a gentle twilight. while he was resting, he could feel your hand inching closer to his as you carefully held on to it. jinwoo could feel a smile begin to spread across his full lips as you flattened the palm of your hand against his, clearly measuring the size of your hand in comparison to his.
a soft chuckle escapes from him, “sarang, silly love of mine, just what are you doing?”
he opens up one eye to look at you, a half-smile painting his handsome features as he allowed an arm to wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest as he remained laying down. basking in your giggles once more, he feels his heart began to race again the moment you lean down to press a kiss against his chest.
“i love you so much, jinwoo.”
“heh, i love you more, sarang.”
jinwoo presses a kiss against your hair while letting you play with his hands. he watches you with adoration, seeing you pick up his hand before interlocking your fingertips together. a wide grin paints his features when he gives your hand a squeeze before turning you around so that you were now settled with your back against the blanket.
your breathing comes out as gentle giggles, and jinwoo takes this chance to press several, audible smooches against your features. the more you let out those melodious sounds of your laughter, the more he kept littering your face with those achingly sweet kisses.
jinwoo successfully distracts you, and you couldn’t help but frown when you felt a sudden weight against your left ring finger. catching your shocked expression, he allows you to sit up while looking at the ring settled against your finger.
it was an incredibly cute and endearing ring, with your favorite gemstone shaped into a heart as you met jinwoo’s gaze, eyes going wide with your lips parted in response. “jinwoo… what’s this?”
“a promise.” his reply comes out as hoarse and shaky, taking your hand as he presses a kiss against the ring he had just gifted you. “i know it feels… a bit too soon to propose any… ah… commitment. but still, i wanted you to know that i’m completely serious about you.”
“this ring will serve as my promise to you… of what is to come.”
with a choked sob of his name, you lean forward to kiss him once more, perfectly slotting your lips against his as jinwoo kissed you back with just as much passion.
jinwoo knew right then and there that he had made the right decision of keeping you; for you were (and always will be) his sole light.
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a.n. - when kyunnie made a second part to her most gut wrenching angst, i was so elated and happy that i wanted to write / make a daydream of hers come true. i hope i wrote your daydreams well enough! 🥹
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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bunnyywritings · 4 months
Text
lazy morning with the salary man & honey bunny
NANAMI KENTO x F!READER
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[a/n: day 1 of my b-day special event is here! i apologize if it’s a bit underwhelming…i feel like I’m still getting a hold of writing smut so i really hope this is okay!! i proofread like a billion times so I hope there are no spelling mistakes or whatever…also just a huge PSA for these fics, i am very much a mid/plus size woman who goes to the gym daily, when i use the term “little” it in no way refers to body type or size of anything, it’s more like a condescending/degradation thing…so yeah <3]
© bunnyywritings pls don't use my headers or writing without permission
wc: 3.3k words
warnings: somnophilia, cuddle-fucking, thigh job, mirror sex, cow girl…y’all it’s basically porn with no plot, no use of y/n, reader’s screen name is bunny (sorry not sorry), reader is also called: sweetheart, love, good girl, honey, baby
You had woken up early to get your room set up how you wanted so you two could just jump into it and as soon as you heard the knock on your door, it made you extra giddy. He would’ve found it amusing to see you tripping yourself up just to let him in the door.
And once you did, oh boy…the sight had you shifting from leg to leg, attempting to be subtle about squeezing your thighs together.
Kento was usually a put together guy. Handsome, well coordinated suits for work. Loose trousers and a button up, no tie when he was attempting to be more casual, even an occasional t-shirt and jeans to be really casual but you’ve never seen him this dressed down. A mouthwatering pair of gray sweat shorts and a deep green pullover that had a few bleach stains and looked well worn.
He hadn’t even noticed your lack of greeting because he was too busy running his eyes up and down your body. He was used to seeing your different get ups for your account and just casually as friends. He’s seen you in costumes, in your casual clothes, lingerie, cute silky pajamas but this, this was different. You were barefaced, wearing an oversized t-shirt that had a few stains you could never get out, boxers you wore as sleep shorts, and cute bunny slippers that a fan had sent you.
“Hi sweetheart…” He muttered, finally catching the blush on your cheeks and the dazed look in your eye.
“H-Hi Ken, c-come in.” You took a deep breath as he walked past, his cologne lingering as you shut the door. “D’you want anything to drink?”
“I’m okay, thank you.” You nodded, nervously biting the inside of your cheek as you approached him, having to tilt your head back a bit to get a good look. “So did you have a script or anything for me?”
You opened your mouth to respond but you stuttered when he gripped your chin, thumb caressing just below your bottom lip. “U-hm uh script? N-No, I thought w-we’d improvise…I hope that’s okay?”
His honeyed eyes softened, shifting between yours before he dipped down and delicately pressed his lips against yours, “That’s alright with me, show me where you want me.” His voice vibrated against your plush skin, the ticklish feeling making you squirm the slightest bit.
As the cameras rolled, you and Kento were snuggled up together underneath your pink duvet, legs tangled together with one thrown over hips. He was shifting around, eyes fluttering open as he “woke up.” A sleepy groan rumbled from his chest as he started to press featherlight kisses to every patch of exposed skin he could reach.
“My sweet bunny…” He mused, sighing wistfully. Peeling back the duvet, he gently removed your leg from where it was draped and positioned your legs wide enough to fit himself in between them and then doing so, his hands planting themselves by your temples for stability but before he could continue, your eyes snapped open. A sharp pain through your scalp makes you yelp in discomfort.
“Ow! Ah, Ken! My hair!” You laughed in disbelief as his face contorted in a quick panic before realizing that he was, in fact, trapping your hair under his palm.
“Oh! Sorry, sorry…”He chuckled in matching disbelief, moving his hand so you could shift over, moving your hair out of his way. “M’sorry love.” Your lashes fluttered bashfully as he pecked your nose. “Close your eyes, you’re supposed to be asleep.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He continued again. Kissing from your neck, down your torso and lifting your shirt. He breathed a subtle laugh at the way your muscles twitched as his breath grazed your skin before pressing a kiss just below your naval.
Your resolve was running thin. How could you possibly continue to pretend to be asleep with his teasing? Ever the observant one, he could see how your squirming became a lot more noticeable.
Cheekily placing another kiss to your sensitive skin before finally pulling off your shorts a little roughly, your cue.
“Kento?” You sleepily murmured, hand blindly reaching out and pushing his soft, blonde locks from his forehead. His heart swelled, you were so sweet. So intoxicating. So lovely. And just for today, you were his. All his.
“Good morning sweetheart…” Finally pulling your shorts off, his breath hitched when he was met with the sight of your wet folds unobscured by any pesky fabric. “So naughty, hmm?” He teased. “Going to bed with no panties.”
He pushed your legs further apart, cupping underneath your thighs to hold them steady and spreading you open with his thumbs. “So pretty.”
What had caught you off guard was him leaning forward and inhaling your scent. A startled moan leaving you when his nose met your aching clit. He just chuckled and licked a bold stripe up your slit. “Just relax for me.”
You wanted to laugh. Relax? When his lips were wrapped around your pulsing clit, sucking messily. Impossible. “Oh my-” You choked out a whine at the spine-tingling sensation, his tongue flattening as he began to move his head side to side.
As much of a put together gentleman he liked to portray, Kento was a messy eater. The wet, squelching noises were almost too much for you. Your cheeks turning an embarrassing red at the lewdness of it all.
Kento could feel how you attempted to squirm away, your quiet and desperate cries stroking his pride. Your entrance was clenching around nothing and your throbbing heat was enough for him to realize that you were quickly reaching your high. Your knees met in an attempt to snap your legs shut at the overwhelming pleasure but his broad shoulders and firm grip was enough to keep them open. “You gonna cum for me, bunny?”
“Yes! Yes Ken…p-please! I’m gonna-” You were desperately grinding against his tongue.
And before the coil could snap, he pulled himself away with a vulgar pop!
Your heart dropped in disappointment, a displeased whine leaving your throat. Once again, he spread your lips with his thumbs mesmerized by your sticky cunt. He could just imagine how easily you’d suck him in, your warm and wet walls accommodating his length but he was frustratingly patient.
He looked up at you and smiled at your clear disappointment, a prominent pout pulling your lips down. He sat up on his heels, gripping the edge of your t-shirt and pulling it off of you. “Mmm so pretty…” He whispered, almost to himself, his hands gripping your waist and running across your warm skin. Despite this having been a planned affair, you still seemed so sleepy. So soft and pliant underneath him, it made his heart race. “So soft, all for me. Hmm?”
The reverence in his voice and his touch made you extra bashful. Your stomach doing somersaults as you looked away from his burning gaze. He took a moment to admire you, your breaths became heavier with anticipation, the wonderfully red hue of your cheeks and the tips of your ears, the way your hips squirmed, desperate for him. For his touch. He cooed as a small gasp left your lips, one of his hands cupping your breast. The pad of his thumb grazing over the pert nipple. He kissed beneath your jaw and gave your nipple a teasing pinch before stepping off the bed.
You sat up slightly and watched as he peeled his sweatshirt off, mouth watering once he kicked off his shorts and boxers. His cock on full display against his lower abdomen, tip a pretty pink and leaking precum. “Lay on your side for me, bunny.” He could almost laugh at how distracted you were as his hand gripped the base of his shaft before stroking up and down a few times, thumb twisting over his sensitive head. “Come on, be a good girl for me. Lay on your side.” The slightly firmer tone he had taken was enough to shake you from your stupor. Doing what you're told and laying on your side, your eyes widened when you were met with both the camera and your full length mirror.
You watched him climb back into the bed right behind you, his body warm against your back. “Scoot back just a little bit, honey.” His breath tickled the shell of your ear as his left arm wrapped around your midsection to help you shift backwards so your skin was flush with his. His other arm snug beneath your head.
Both your eyes met through the mirror. “Hi.” He smiled gently as you shyly echoed the sentiment back, mirth filled his eyes as he skimmed his hand down your stomach and to your thigh, your muscles jumping beneath your skin. You bit your lip as you watched his fingertips tease your inner thigh, edging closer to where you wanted his touch the most before moving back to your thigh.
“Please, Kento…” You begged so prettily, he yearned to pull more from you.
“Patience, bunny. Patience.” He tutted, finally gripping your thigh and prying your legs apart. “Keep that leg up, f’me…” He muttered, reaching between the two of you and taking a hold of his throbbing cock, hissing at his own touch. You were making him so unbelievably aroused, his will was starting to wear thin.
You were starting to become impatient, your interrupted climax from before wasn’t helping the feeling of desperation. He tapped his weeping tip against your clit, the wet plap! and the weight of him was enough to make you dizzy. He let his length rest against your wet cunt as he cupped the backside of your knee to keep your leg up. “All wet just for me…” He rutted his hips against you, a groan leaving his lips as he started a steady pace, just rubbing against you. The back and forth against your clit was enough to make your jaw drop in a silent scream. “My sweet bunny, who’s pretty cunt is this? Hmm?”
“Y-Yours! Oh my god- s’all yours Ken! Feels so good…”
“Maybe I should just do this, hmm? Make you cum without even properly fucking you.” He increased his pace steadily, your bed creaking quietly with the force of his movements.
“No! No Kento, please! Please I want- ahh!” The pleasure was clouding your mind as he started to glide so smoothly against you.
“What do you want? What does my whiny baby want?”
“F-fuck! I wan…want you to fuck m-me Ken! Please, need your cock!”
He chuckled darkly against your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…cum and I’ll give you what you want. Come on, be a good girl and cum.” He dropped your leg, a choked moan leaving his throat as you instinctively squeezed your thighs shut. His breathing got heavier and heavier, breathy moans steadily leaving him, your plush thighs and the wet heat that he was rutting into was slowly making his brain melt.
“You feel so good baby, fuuuck! You’re gonna make me cum…so warm and-and wet, shit- love this pussy.” He could feel your thighs twitch, the steady pulse between your legs giving you away. “Come on, cum for me…” His command was followed by just that, whines leaving you as you started to grind against him, your release making you slide back easier.
“Give me your cum, please Ken…please, please, please-” He felt the coil snap as you started to babble incoherently, stilling with a final thrust as he shot thick, white ropes against your skin. The sticky feeling between your legs was intoxicating as you slumped against him completely, breaths heavy.
Kento’s hips twitched, causing him to rut against you involuntarily. “You want to keep going?” He muttered against your glistening skin.
He was still painfully hard and wanted nothing more than to bury himself in you but he would end the scene then and there if you threw in the towel.
You lifted your leg once more, watching strings of your mixed releases drip from your thighs through the mirror. Kento twitched against you, his cock basically jumping in excitement as you reached down and pressed his head tight against your overstimulated clit, grinding against his sweltering member.
“Put it in, honey. Take what’s yours.”
You didn’t need to be told twice as you shifted yourself a bit higher to line him up with your pulsing entrance. He was in a trance as he watched his reflection, eyebrows furrowing as he watched his length disappear, your walls snug around him. “S-So big, shit!” You cried, eyes snapping shut.
He was so thick, filling you up and stretching you so deliciously.
“M’not even all the way in, bunny.”
He wasn’t a cocky man by any means but if there was one thing he was highly prideful of, it’s definitely how well endowed he is.
You glanced at where the two of you connected to find that he wasn’t joking. He already felt like he was in your stomach…but he was only about half way sheathed. Taking full advantage of your distraction, Kento pulled out til just his tip was being clutched by your entrance before forcefully thrusting the rest of his length into you. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, mouth falling into a cute o shape. “There we go.” He hummed, palm pressing down against your lower stomach, the sensation making your eyes roll back. “Feel that, m’right there. So deep…” He groaned, starting a slow and steady pace.
Quiet whimpers and moans left your throat as he rutted into you, eyes falling shut as you let yourself be consumed by pleasure.
Kento couldn’t help but think about how domestic this scene was turning out to be. Not that he minded one bit, but still. He took your lead and let himself be swallowed by the pleasure that was making his spine tingle.
Enjoying how wet and warm you were. The sun gently filtering into your room, the quiet creaking of your bed frame and your sweet noises were enough to want to lull him into sleep.
“F-fuck, Kento…m’so full a-and warm. You're making me sleepy…”
He breathily chuckled. “Yeah, would you like that? Want me to fuck you back to sleep, hmm? Use your pretty cunt while you dream?”
A particularly pitchy moan left you as you clenched down around him, his words making you so much more wet. Pussy squelching quietly between your thighs. “Mhmm, I’d let you do whatever you wanted to. Let you cum inside me, fill me up as many times as you want.”
“You spoil me, honey…fuck.”
He slid his palm down in between your clenched thighs and pressed his middle and ring fingers against your pulsing and puffy clit. The touch making your hips grind against his fingers, effectively fucking yourself back against his cock as well.
“I can’t…I’m cumming-hah ahh!” He felt your release as you twitched against him, his fingers rubbing gently circles into your bud to help you ride it out.
“Mmm that’s a good girl, ride my fingers…that’s it.” He hummed, pulling his hand from it’s place and bringing them to your lips. Watching the mirror through lidded eyes as you took them into your mouth and lazily suckled them. “Lift your leg, show off how messy my pussy is. All messy and wet for me.” You moaned against his fingers, doing as he said and lifting your leg. Pulling his fingers from your lips with a pop and pulling himself out of you.
He shifted you so he could pull his arm from underneath your head and moved to a kneeling position. He hooked your leg over his opposite shoulder, so it was diagonal across his chest as he lined himself back up.
You looked so ethereal, splayed out before him. Your beautiful breasts on full display, skin flushed, and a dazed look on your eyes. “Such a pretty girl.” He muttered, not missing the way you preened at his compliment. Watching the way your face screwed up in pleasure and struggling to keep his eyes from snapping shut when he pushed himself back into your sinful walls.
Now that his hand was free, you reached out, tenderly lacing your fingers in between his. Holding on as his slow, deep thrusts drove you to ecstasy. “Feel so good, honey…f-fuck. M’not gonna last long.”
“Please cum, cum inside me…” You whimpered. “Please Kento, cum with me.”
How could he say no to that?
So, with one hand still holding your leg against him and the other holding your hand, he continued to fuck into you. Steadily increasing his pace and absolutely loving watching you fall apart on him. Once you started to pulse around him and your hips started to twitch, he clenched his jaw. Holding his tongue as words that should not be said threatened to spill.
“Oh my god, I’m cumming! I-I’m-”
“Fucking hell…me too, I-” He groaned, stilling as he spilled everything he had into you. Balls tightening as he squeezed out every last drop.
You felt him shift and you panicked, squeezing his hand. “Don’t pull out…please?” He smiled softly at your earnestness, carefully placing your leg back down.
“Of course…” He did his best to keep himself buried in your core, laying back down and holding you close.
“Wanna take a nap like this…” You yawned.
“Okay then, that’s what we’ll do.” He was softening inside you, eyes falling shut as your warmth lulled him to sleep.
About twenty minutes later, Kento awoke as an intense pleasure racked his body. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and was met with the sight of your ass bouncing on his cock, leaning on his knees for support.
“Hah what a needy thing, so desperate for my cock that you couldn’t even wait for me to wake up.” His deep, sleep filled voice had your pussy wet.
“F-finally, you’re up-” You whimpered, not even halting your movements.
“Gonna make yourself cum already?” He teased, one hand kneading the flesh of your ass.
“Mhmm…so- m’so sensitive! Fucked me so ah! so good, Ken!” Your movements faltered, back arching as you came with a hoarse cry. He admired your body as you sat on his dick, shaking as you came down from your high.
He opened his mouth but was quickly cut off as you lifted yourself up and dropped back down onto him. “W-wait…fuck!” His toes curled at how sensitive he was, broken whimpers leaving him as you continued your, surprisingly, relentless pace. The noises coming from his throat was enough to push through the intense burning of your thighs.
“Hah bunny! You’re cunt’s squeezing me so- fuck- so damn tight! Feel fucking amazing, shit!” He gasped. “Cumming…m’gonna cum…ngh fuck me! Fuck!”
His broken whines and the overstimulation had you cumming one more time, Kento following right behind you, his thighs quivering as he weakly spurted the rest of his release into you.
Catching his breath, he sat up and pulled you into his chest. Gently pulling his cock out of you with a hiss.
Your entire body felt like jello.
He pulled you down onto the bed with him, pulling the duvet over the both of you and cradling your head into the crook of his neck. “Did so good f’me…” He whispered, placing messy kisses to your cheek, down your neck and to your shoulder. A smile pulling at his lips as your tired giggles vibrated against his skin.
“Thank you.” You pressed a few kisses to his collarbone.
His cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of pink. “Anything for you…”
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arachine · 2 years
Note
eye is twitching at size difference!neteyam whether it be w a human or na'vi. eye twitching n toes curling ESPECIALLY at nervous neteyam whose tail and ears are twitching bc his ass is hot and bothered n trying to hide it bc??????? example setter big responsible brother neteyam can NOT show anybody he's weak as hell when it comes to his (future?) mate. istg like let's just say the village is throwing a feast or whatever and the women are dancing w the men/their mates and he's just mesmerized by her n when she approaches him takes his hand and leads him to the dance BOY IS JUST WEAK IN THE KNEESSSSS ready to start whining n twirling his hair like i KNOW this would happen he told me himself
MMFFFFF!!!! oh my god. fuck you.
+ human! reader, suggestive
+ note :: me when i am physically INCAPABLE of elaborating on a thirst, so i turn it into a full fledged drabble LOL! also fuck that damn oxygen mask…it be fucking up the vibes so it doesn’t exist in this 😍
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he’s like seated by the fire right. just sulking, brooding—you know, as per usual. the feast had commenced some time ago, and now the clan was scattered in clusters, just laughing, conversing, drinking (whatever the na’vi equivalent to earth alcohol was)—and then, you come in. 
well, you don’t just come in—you’re dancing, and it’s not just you. there’s a line of na’vi women parading through the clearing, all dressed in fancy garments (suited for dancers), ululating and gyrating their hips. amongst these experienced women, you stick out like a sore thumb. not because you’re dancing particularly bad, but because the line depresses drastically in height when it gets to you. but it’s cute, he thinks. adorable, even. 
usually, you’re a clumsy little thing, but right now you have this aura about you. it’s something fierce—and with every step, every twirl of your arms, and shake of your hips, he finds himself teetering closer and closer to the edge of his seat. 
and your eyes? your eyes haven’t left his since you stepped foot into his peripheral vision. they’re darker in color compared to his, but the amber hue flames of the fire light them ablaze. calling him, luring him—like a siren, and he, an unfortunate sailor who’s fallen into his own trap. 
when you round his section, you circle around him. once, twice, three times. his head is on a swivel, eyes never leaving yours as you make your way to the fire. 
you’re only dancing. it’s not like he hasn’t seen this exact same dance hundreds of times, with these exact same garments, and these exact same women who prance around seductively teasing men—because he has. a many of times. but…this was different, intimate. in a way that he couldn’t quite explain. 
and now you’re leaving your place around the fire and women, striding up to him all gracefully. he’s so entranced that he doesn’t process that you’ve grabbed his hands, nor does he process that he was now standing, and walking with you to the fire, and—
“wait, wait, what are you doi-“
but he’s already too far to turn back. he has to commit, especially since all eyes were now on you and him. this was calculated. an attack on his very name and the reputation that he’s so carefully crafted over these past few years. 
see, the thing about neteyam is…he doesn’t dance. he never got the chance to just goof around growing up, not like lo’ak, especially not like lo’ak. no, he was too focused training, and sparring—being primed for war. when you grow up with responsibilities that only an eldest child can be burdened with, you don’t dance. 
“i do not dance,” he tries to pull away, but to no avail. your grip on him is vice and your eyes are fierce, a silent assurance that you were not to be trifled with, at least not now, while there are stares. he surrenders his body to you, lets you pull him deeper into the abyss. 
for a while, he stands there rather awkwardly, just shifting side to side as you walk circles around him. moving just enough to appease you, but not enough to look like he’s enjoying himself. you’re not the least bit impressed, though. you know he can do better. much better. 
“stop being so rigid, move your body,” you poke his side, earning a playful hiss. “i want you to copy me, look, mimic my movements.” you back away slowly, swaying your arms side to side and whirling your fingers up to the sky before letting them drop in front of your face—palms facing outward, fingers spread. 
when he repeats it, you press your palms together, peeking through your fingers. in this moment, there is nobody else. just you, him, and the fire. eyes staring back into eyes, two souls connecting. now that he’s so close, he can see just about every detail of your irises. 
they’re not as dark as he’s always thought them to be, there’s a sparkle behind them. a light or fire that flickers brightly, and he can see himself, too. a mirage of himself burning in the fire. he doesn’t want to look away but then you’re backing away again, laughing and spinning wildly, and he tries to reach for you but you dodge his advances. catch me, you mouth. catch me. 
faster than he can blink, you end up behind him. playfully, you pull his tail and when he spins to stop you from doing it again, you stumble backwards. before your body has the chance to hit the soil, he catches you. lean, strong arms taking you into his hold: one supporting your neck and the other on the small of your back. there it was. that clumsiness.
“dancers are supposed to move with grace,” he whispers teasingly, his face so close to yours you can feel the warmth of his breath, “that wasn’t graceful.” he wants you to take the bait. take the bait, take the bait, take the bai—
“oh, mr. ‘i don’t dance’ is critiquing me now?” you bite. it took a second for you to answer him, partly because you were trying to come up with something slick to respond with, but mostly because of the proximity. his eyes were pretty, too pretty for a smug little shit like him. “guess the student becomes the master.”
he laughs in the interstice of your neck, pulling you up slowly to your original vertical position. eventually, the music begins to come to a somber decrescendo, signifying the end of the song, and you two quickly remember the audience surrounding you. 
“find me later,” you say into his ear. his tail shoots up from the insinuation. “i can teach you something else that isn’t dancing.” 
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animasolaoriginal · 7 days
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I n f a t u a t e d ♦️ELEVEN
CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN ELEVEN TWELVE
He asked her to submit and she (more or less) agreed, completely unaware of what really awaits her. Now he just has to help her say goodbye to her old life, in the only way he knows...
ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush
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WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Free use/power play. Vaginal sex. Humiliation/Objectification if you squint. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 6.5k
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A/N: Welcome to SEASON TWO! Here's what happened...
P R E V I O U S L Y
Once there was a girl, 19 years young, cute and innocent, but mature enough to have one wish: to hook up with a man she'd seen only from afar. His confident and dominant aura had mesmerized her as she'd first laid eyes on him through the crowd on the dance floor of his club, how he'd lounged at the bar, eyes scanning the people dancing and drinking, and one day, their gazes had met.
But he had just watched, and it was her who approached him first. So you could say, whatever happened next might have been her fault. Her own naive little dream come true, though in her innocence she had not been prepared for what he had planned for her. What he saw in her. She'd wanted a hook-up, maybe something to dream about when the loneliness of her life came crashing down on her again, a fond memory, but it wasn't just a hook-up for him. It was more, so much more.
Because she was perfect.
The perfect submissive. Someone he could lead through life, take by the hand, take over the back of the couch, take to heights she had never even dreamed about. And oh how he showed her...
She woke up in his bedroom after he'd taken her away, coerced by a little drink, a little help, erasing that particularly memory of how she got there forever. It didn't matter. She was with him now. And she was meant to stay, even if she didn't know that yet. He was a goner as soon as she asked him to take her virginity. What an opportunity. Taking all her firsts. Served on a silver platter, just for him.
In her innocence, she expected him to be gentle and stick to his words, make her a real woman, because that was what happened when your virginity was taken, right? Oh how naive she'd been. Of course he took it, but before that he made her choke on his cock, taught her how to suck him off properly, made her more familiar with the very thing that would assault all her holes eventually.
And he didn't stop there. Butt plugs, dildos, vibrating eggs, he tested it all on her, and strangely enough, she let him. Was it submission, fear or curiosity? Who knows. There were moments where she did protest, showed a little bit of defiance, questioned him, but it only ended in him forcing his cock up her ass. A punishment she soon learned could also be a reward. It was all confusing to her, but she always came back to the same conclusion: she made this happen, she came to him, she asked him to pound the virgin right out of her, so to speak (not that she would ever use those exact words).
And he did, pounded, rammed, hammered, pistoned, slammed, stabbed, deep and hard and fast, until her head would shut down and a blissful emptiness took over. And it was that feeling that made her stay, not that she even tried to get away. Why would she? He was handsome, rich, experienced, the perfect match, right?
And despite all the vile things he did to her, she was yearning for the moments afterwards, the gentle touches, the strong grip of his arms, the pain-easing embraces. And the praises. The good girls and well dones, the proud smiles on his lips, the approving nods. She came to a point where she'd let him do anything just to be called a good girl. It was as disturbing as it was easy. It would excuse everything.
The fucking her in her sleep, the bullying of bruises he'd pummeled into her before, over and over again, in every position imaginable, at least for her, because he clearly had more ideas in mind, wherever and whenever he wanted, he would take her. He'd let her cockwarm him while he would work in his office, and she'd sit on her knees between his legs for hours, suckling on his cock, delving into the head-empty-state with pleasure. She'd be confused when he'd reward her with a deep anal pounding afterwards, but she'd take it nonetheless.
It was her purpose. She was his to use. A body with holes to fill. A toy to play with. A doll to move about as he saw fit. And she grew into her role, more with every passing hour. And those 48 hours, that single weekend, was packed with new experiences, new sensations, as he explored her durability, what she was capable of, how much she could endure. And she surprised him. She'd be sore, of course, but she wouldn't whine, not too much anyway, and he could just continue.
A perfect match.
And it led him to make a decision he would not regret: to keep her. To make her his completely. And so, on a dreary Monday morning, he took her back, to her old life, causing her to think he would really get rid of her after all, but then everything would change. He told her of his plan to keep her, told her that he'd terminated her apartment lease, resigned her from her badly-paying job. And he even asked her, despite doing all this behind her back, asked her to submit.
And in the end, she couldn't make that decision, she needed him to make it for her. She asked him to give her an order, and of course he did, and she did as he told her: she submitted, gave her life into his hands. Became his.
But that's not where the story ends. There is more on the horizon for the two strangers that met each other on a whim, whose lives entwined by chance. Who found each other compatible on multiple levels. When bodies and souls merge, stronger feelings arise. And a little infatuation can turn into something else. Maybe it's love, or maybe it's a deep, dark obsession...
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TEN 🟥 ELEVEN 🟥 TWELVE
He is honestly very surprised how well she took it. No apartment. No job. Dependent on him and him alone. Her old life taken from her just like that. And she wants it. There's no denying the look in her eyes as she knelt in front of him, asking him to give her an order. So submissive, so innocent in her own needs. Almost a little too easy, but still perfect.
He leads her into her bedroom, frowning at the décor. A small bed covered in colorful quilts and blankets and pillows in every shape imaginable. There's even a stuffed animal on it. A tattered looking wolf. He raises his eyebrow at the sight, a smirk dancing on his lips. As if this was meant to be. The image of a little girl cuddling the wolf to her chest, seeking comfort in the presence of a predator, makes his stomach tense up. He knows he'll be that wolf for her, giving her comfort as well as the unpredictability of a monster led by its natural urges to dominate.
She moves timidly through her (former) own space, shoulders sagged a little as her eyes move over various surfaces. He leans against the door frame, watching her, before his gaze wanders over the fairy lights on the wall and the bright curtains and the random assortment of trinkets on a dresser ranging from snow globes to plastic figurines to other dust collecting clutter. There are pictures above her bed, polaroids, mostly of landscape or architecture, not many people.
Walking towards a small bookcase in the corner, she runs her fingers over the spines of old looking books, but in the end moves away again and opens the door to her closet. A tiny space, filled with colorful clothes. There she bends down and picks up a backpack before she starts stuffing it with randomly picked things. He's not sure if he'll let her wear her old clothing, but he's asked her to pack stuff she may need, and maybe those old rags give her comfort, remind her of something. He allows it, for now.
She flinches when he steps behind her, his hand moving through the sparsely filled space, running over the soft fabrics hanging from the rail. He picks up a pastel pink colored dress, with little white flowers adorning the skirt portion, a thin belt cinching it up in the waist, a high rounded neckline keeping it very modest.
“Wear this,” he tells her quietly, and she looks up at him, biting her lip, but ultimately nods.
She hesitates then, unsure if he wants her to strip right away, so he takes that decision from her by putting his hands on her shoulders, slowly guiding her towards the bed. He puts the dress over the back of a chair next to the small desk, his eyes curtly grazing over the cluttered space filled with notepads and pencils and a box filled with tiny beads. He couldn't even name all the hobbies she's assembled on the tiny surface. But it tells him she is in dire need of having the clutter in her life (that's also in her head) re-organized, stripped down to the bare minimum, taken completely.
“Bend over the foot of the bed,” he says nonchalantly. Her breathing gets a little harder as she approaches her small bed, slowly leaning over the wooden frame, the boards creaking when she puts her weight on them. She folds her body over until her chest is pressed into the soft covers, elbows digging into the colorful quilt, hands clutching at the fabric, head turned to watch him out of the corner of her eye, ass raised, legs shaking slightly.
He steps behind her, gently pushing up her skirt, hands gliding over her curves, making her skin pebble beneath his touch. His fingers hook into the waistband of her panties, slowly drag them down until they pool around her ankles where he leaves them, keeping her from spreading her legs too much. He presses a few kisses up the backs of her thighs, hands sliding up and down her legs before he straightens up fully again, one hand on her lower back, the other unbuckling his belt.
His cock is already hard when it springs free from its confines, and he grabs it, gives it a few hard pumps, watching the girl in front of him as she shivers, forcing herself to remain calm while she waits for him to use her. A quick swipe through her folds tells him she's ready, or at least getting ready. Coating himself with her wetness, smirking at the way her back twitches when he drags his cock along her slit, he doesn't wait any longer.
Pushing into her with small rolls of his hips, he digs his fingers into the fabric of her bunched-up skirt, holding her in place when she starts squirming against him. Inch by inch he sinks deeper, forcing through the resistance, ignoring her tiny wails, while his heart is beating harder in his chest, his stomach already tense, the sight of her in her childish bed making him feel like an even bigger monster.
A growl escapes him, and he pulls her hips against him as he sinks the rest of his cock into her tight warmth with a harsh snap of his pelvis. She whimpers, burying her face in the blankets, thighs twitching. His hands move up her curved back, fingers curling around her shoulders, gripping her, anchoring her as he starts drawing back slowly only to push in with a force that makes her squeal. He's going deep, slow and steady, repeating the same motion over and over again, precise thrusts of his hips against her cushioned rear.
She cries out every time he slams into her cervix, body arching, hands white-knuckling the sheets, her legs kicking helplessly. Her walls clench around him, either fighting the intruder or sucking him in deeper. The same struggle is in the girl before him as she bucks her hips back, straining her shoulders under his tight grip, squirming or moving along with him. He can't tell. He doesn't care either way. He only picks up the pace.
Her legs slam rhythmically into the wooden boards of the bed, strangled noises escaping her, every plunge accompanied by the soundscape of skin slapping against skin and that traitorous squelching of her wet cunt getting to terms with his intrusion. Her whines turn into moans while he keeps pounding into her harder and faster, in and out, back and forth, until his own breathing gets rougher.
He takes one hand from her shoulders and slips it beneath her, fingers brushing over her fluttering stomach until they find her throbbing clit. She squeaks when he touches it, arching her back, body contorting as more uncontrollable spasms crash through her. She comes with a wail, pussy clamping around him hard enough for him to fight the onslaught of sensations, the need to come as well, but he keeps rubbing her nub while holding his steady rhythm of hammering into her, letting her ride that high for as long as possible.
His grunts fill the small space, her mewls are muffled, hands clutching at the blankets, head thrashing. Leaving her clit to press his hand to her belly, he moves his other hand around her neck and grips her throat, making her cry out as he lifts her up and against him, holding her tightly as he continues to ram into her, his stomach tight, his balls ready to burst. Limp fingers try to grip at his wrist as he squeezes her, her noises turning into soundless, breathless gasps as she struggles in his hold.
He wraps his other arm around her middle, lifting her up a little more, his cock pistoning in and out rapidly. The slapping sounds add to the squeaking of the bed, a cacophony of noises that drive him mad with need. Growling into her ear, he moves his hand back down between her legs, rubbing hard at that sensitive bundle of nerves, making her writhe and twitch, pathetic little gasps falling from her parted lips.
“Come for me,” he grunts, head spinning, heart racing, the tension building up into an ache he can't get enough of. “Come on my cock!”
She's shuddering, head thrashing into his shoulder, eyes rolling back, mouth wide open as she succumbs to the sensations. He feels her cunt clamping down on him as her orgasmic contractions crash through her tiny frame once more. He eases the grip on her throat, wraps his arm around her chest instead. Her soft little whimpers, that constant string of high-pitched little “Ah!”s, cloud up his mind, drive him right over the edge.
He groans and grunts and growls before he gives her that final hard thrust, burying himself as deep as possible inside her tight warmth, while the tension explodes within him, balls pumping, stomach tensing, as he empties himself inside her, painting her walls with his hot seed. She's limp in his embrace, hard breaths mixed with small whines, arms and legs boneless. He savors her warmth, that wetness coating his skin, the little shudders making his cock twitch as her tight cunt keeps milking him for all he's worth.
Slowly he lets go of her, drapes her back over the foot of the bed, carefully pulls out of her before he watches his spend dripping from her clenching hole. Then he bends down and pulls up her panties, trapping his cum, feeling it gathering in the fabric, warm and wet as he cups her mound. After putting himself away again, not even caring about their combined juices seeping into his underwear, he flips her skirt back down, makes her stand, then turns her and leans her against the wall, his hands cupping her face as he takes her in.
“You look so beautiful when you're all fucked out and boneless, you know that?” he whispers with a dark smirk, leaning closer to brush his nose against hers. She looks at him out of hooded eyes, cheeks flushed, lips still parted and trembling, a little bit of drool gathering in the corner. “Head empty, hm?”
She nods into his hands, her lips twitching into a shy smile. He closes the distance and captures them for a soft kiss, holding her against him until he feels her small hands fisting at the back of his jacket. He picks her up easily, still glued to her mouth, tongue lazily sliding against hers, as he carries her to the side of the bed and sits down, arranging her on his lap with his arms wrapping around her tightly.
Leaning into him, she moves her mouth against his, slowly gaining in confidence, her fingers sliding up his back, gripping at his shoulders, teasing at his nape. Her warm crotch presses into his leg, and he is tempted to give her another load, but then refrains, inhaling deeply, turning his head slightly. Her lips slip along his jaw and down his neck before she rests her cheek on his shoulder, breathing hard.
“Thank you,” she whispers barely audible, and he rubs her side in response, pressing his lips to the top of her head.
They sit like that for another moment, and he has to admit, it's growing on him to just have her in his arms, holding her, feeling her small body move against him when she breathes deeply, her warmth is a comfort he didn't know he needed. But the beast inside him isn't entirely convinced yet. She may be pliant now, but he's seen the defiance in her eyes. He shouldn't go easy on her too soon.
Exhaling loudly, he grabs her shoulders, startling her out of her stupor when he puts her on her feet, her legs still trembling as she stares at him with wide eyes. He tilts his head towards the desk chair, waiting for her to follow the motion. Her head turns slowly, a tiny nod jerking her chin as she sees the sundress he wants her to wear.
“Strip,” he tells her, leaning back on the bed on one arm, the other hand resting heavy on his thigh as he watches her intently.
She licks her lips, swallows, her chest rising when she inhales deeply, then she moves her hands back and fidgets with the zipper of her skirt. Her eyes wander over his face, too timid to hold his gaze properly, her cheeks splotched in many different shades of red. Putting her hands on her waist, she shimmies the skirt down her hips, bends lower, back stiff and quite uncoordinated, trying to keep looking at him before she tilts her head and steps out of it a little clumsily, swaying dangerously.
His hand shoots out to steady her, and she flinches, looking at him before biting her lip. He can't help the amused twitch of his lips. She blushes even more, quickly straightening up again while he retrieves his hand. Taking a shuddering breath, she crosses her arms and grabs the lower hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it up and over her head before letting it fall to the skirt lying next to her feet.
Now she's standing in front of him in her soiled panties and her worn down sneakers, slim arms and legs, tiny tits, a narrow waist with the hint of a curve to her hips, not typically a tremendously sexy sight for him, but she's trying, he knows it, trying to impress him. He keeps watching her, not issuing any noise of either judgment or confirmation. She's hesitant when she turns to the dress on the chair, her chest moving, her small breasts shivering, nipples hardening the longer they're exposed to the stale air of the room.
As soon as her hand closes around the rose colored fabric, he stands up, startling her when he steps behind her, towering over her. Taking the dress from her, he nudges her to turn around, and when she looks up at him, chewing on her already swollen lips, he tilts his head. “Arms up,” he says quietly, and she does as she is told. He slips the dress over her head and flattens it along her body, then pulls her hair free before his hands rest on her shoulders.
Cute. Is one word that comes to mind. Beautiful another. He raises a hand and tucks a strand of silky hair behind her ear, watching the blush spreading down her neck to her exposed arms. The sleeves fray out a little over her deltoid, accentuating her slim shoulders. He runs his hand down along her arm, hooking it around her elbow, pulling her closer to him.
Her big eyes look up at him, and he watches her, fighting the urges crawling back to the surface (and the blood back into his cock). Exhaling loudly, his breath making loose hairs around her face fly, he clenches his jaw and lets go of her, steps back. “Alright, finish packing. I'll wait out there,” he says and turns around, leaving the tiny space that is her childish little bedroom. Before he leaves, his eyes fall onto the wolf plushie.
Shaking his head with a dark smirk, he keeps walking and settles on the couch in her living room slash kitchen, listening to her rummaging through her drawers and dressers while scrolling through his emails on his phone.
Her shuffling footsteps make him look up. She's holding the straps of the backpack that seems to burst at the seams with how full she's packed it. Her eyes are lowered, a nervous twitch to her lips before she starts chewing on the bottom one. “I'm done,” she whispers.
He stands up and walks towards her, grabbing the backpack from her small hand before flinging it over his shoulder. “And this is all?”
“It's all that fit,” she admits, still biting her lip. He moves his free hand to her face, rubbing his thumb over her lip and pulling it from between her teeth with a firm press. She looks up at him, her eyes a little watery.
“Don't worry, sweetheart. My people will grab the rest. I won't dispose of anything,” he tells her quietly. “Well, except for that couch, which is just awful.” The comment makes her lips quirk up, and he smiles at her in return.
“Thank you,” she whispers, genuine gratitude swimming in her big eyes. He caresses her cheek, holding her face, before leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.
It's almost too easy how this all worked out. She is so submissive, eager to please, eager to follow him wherever he drags her. He just ripped her from her old life, abducted, used, forced into her new reality, and she still thanks him for it. What a beautiful little creature. Simply perfect.
He shifts the strap of the backpack on his shoulder and grabs her face with both hands, bending over her as he tilts her chin up. For a moment he just looks at her, takes her in, every inch of her soft face, noticing the twinkle in her eyes, the blush on her cheeks, the warmth under his palms, the slight tremble to her lips.
Inhaling deeply, he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against hers. “I wish I could pay this place the proper respect by bending you over every surface there is, oh trust me, I'd imagined it while I was waiting, throwing you on that awful couch, splaying you out on the counter, I'd even take you on that horrendous rug down there, but I'm afraid we don't have time...” he closes with a sigh.
She shivers, her breath hitching, and when he looks at her, leaning back a little, her face is fully flushed and her lips parted. He smirks at her.
“Did you think about it too?” he whispers, his breath fanning over her face. “Never had a boy over, right?” She nods into his hands, averting her eyes. “So all these surfaces have never been used like that?” He sighs again. “So tempting,” he whispers, licking his lips.
He lowers his hands and lets them rest on her shoulders as he straightens up and looks around the small space, his mind reeling with images of them doing it wherever his eyes land. Sure, there's not a lot of options, the place is tiny and so are the surfaces, but he would have made it work. He'd even fuck her in that minuscule shower. There's a certain thrill to shoving his big body into tiny spaces, his cock certainly can relate – and it twitches dangerously as he remembers the tight grip of her beautifully small cunt.
Taking a deep breath, he shakes his head trying to rid himself of those tempting fantasies. They'll have time to fuck elsewhere later. Maybe he shouldn't prolong the moment of letting her say goodbye to her own little space too much. He looks back down at her, catching her watching him intently. It's rare to see her so curious, so eager in her own little wishes, and the way she looks at him, he can tell she's having the same thoughts he had.
A smirk plays around the corner of his lips, and he notices a deeper blush forcing itself onto her cheeks. “We should go,” he says then, tilting his head. “Are you ready?”
Her eyes move down, all eagerness and curiosity gone, as she nods timidly. His hand is back on her chin, pushing it up gently. “Last chance to tell me to fuck off,” he teases with a grin, challenging her. She looks up with a bit of shock in her big eyes.
“I... I would never do that,” she murmurs softly, blinking before looking away again. “I... I want this,” she then adds, and he watches her inhale deeply, squaring her shoulders. “I... I want to be... with you...” Her voice is that soft hum in the stale air around them, and it softens his heart – but thickens his cock.
He caresses her bottom lip, gently slipping his thumb into her mouth when she looks up at him. “My good girl,” he whispers fondly as he watches her close her lips around his digit, giving the slightest of sucks. Her eyes seem to glaze over, pupils dilating, and he just knows her mind is emptying as she focuses on him.
She needs this, needs him, and it's the best fucking feeling, he couldn't have asked for anything more (not that he would have actually asked because he doesn't ask for anything, but you get the picture). Her obedience, submission, her trust, it all gathers in his stomach, a pleasant heat that he can't get enough of.
God, he wants to fuck that cute little face so bad! He pulls his hand back with a groan, fighting the urges that make his fingers twitch before he curls them around her slim shoulder. His grip is tighter than intended, and she flinches slightly, a small gasp falling over her parted lips. “The power you have over me,” he says under his breath, clenching his jaw.
His eyes meet hers, and she seems confused, and she should be. Never before had a woman been able to get this deep under his skin. All his life, he had been the dominant one, using women for what they are: holes to fill, bodies to satisfy his urges with. Nothing more. He's kept the occasional submissive, or rather, slave, plaything, toy, but he had been growing bored with them so fast, it had been a little concerning.
But this girl, despite only knowing and having her for a weekend and a few hours, this tiny innocent girl seems to hit all the spots that make him absolutely crazy about her. He's never been this sure about anything in his life, and he's taken numerous risks before. He wouldn't be who he is now if there weren't risks involved, both in life and in business, and even though it seems to be a major risk to bind her to himself after only this short amount of time, he feels more than confident about it.
Because she is perfect. And she wants this.
Having her around 24/7 will be a new adventure, and he's looking forward to it. Oh he's already imagining it. Her little frame, preferably naked, possibly kneeling somewhere, waiting for him, ready to be used, and he only has to approach her to get her to service him... whenever he wants. The thought makes his cock strain against the confines of his pants.
To rid himself of the temptations, he steps back, grabs her hand and turns around, pulling her after him. He feels her stumbling slightly, surprised by the sudden movement, but she follows nonetheless. When they reach the door, he catches her looking back towards her old bedroom, it's only a few seconds, before she looks back at him, and he squeezes her hand and gives her a small smile that makes her blush instantly.
He meets one of his men in the hallway outside her apartment, and while she stares at the other man in slight shock, he only exchanges a nod with him and watches how the broad guy enters the tiny space. As they descend the many stairs, more of his people enter the apartment building, ready to rid it of any evidence of the girl he's dragging after him.
She seems a little hesitant, and he can't blame her, having strange men rummage through the stuff she used to call her own is not easy. But she shouldn't worry, he's planned this out better than he's planning most of his business deals. She'll be in for a surprise.
They reach his car, and there are two moving trucks parked on the small street. Her grip on his hand is tight as her eyes follow the line of workers vanishing into the building. He pulls her to the trunk, opens it with his free hand and puts her backpack into it. A strange sight, a battered old backpack, stuffed to the brim, in the spotless little space in the back of his car. But it isn't the most unusual sight it has seen.
For a moment he remembers stuffing other things, girls like her, into it, blindfolded, gagged, tied up to fit, scared out of their little minds, and he's glad it had been a different story with her. She came to him. She wanted this. And it's only fair to give her the best treatment he can think of, the best in his mind anyway. No matter the grip she has on him, this is still all about his pleasure, and luckily she knows it by now.
When he closes the lid of the trunk with a thud, she flinches, then meets his eyes. He cups her face with one hand, caressing her lips with his thumb, his eyes roaming over her soft features. She melts under his touch, a shy smile grazing her mouth, eyes warm and pliant, pupils dilating despite the bright light around them. He gives her a wink and watches the blush creep up her cheeks.
After he put her into the passenger seat and buckled her in (which she doesn't seem to get used to, as she watched him with wide eyes and trembling lips while he leaned over her), he slips behind the wheel, puts on his own seat belt and starts the engine with a roar that echoes through the quiet street.
She settles into the seat, small hands clasped together on her lap, that pastel pink dress he chose a stark contrast to the dark interior of his car. Once he pulls into the rows of traffic, his hand finds her thigh, and she stiffens before she relaxes as his long fingers curl around her soft leg, slipping between them, feeling her warmth. Imagining the stain his cum had left on the fabric of her panties.
He keeps having these images flicker through his mind, and the longer he drives through the crowded city, the harder he gets from just thinking about whatever he could do to his new plaything, the willing girl next to him. The possibilities are endless. As they stop in front of a red light, he slips his hand deeper between her thighs, fingers pushing firmly against her sex, and she squirms, but ultimately opens her legs a little, allowing him to tease the damp fabric of her underwear.
Pressing down hard, he quickly finds her clit, and she gasps, her legs twitch and threaten to clamp down around his hand, but he feels the effort she's putting into keeping them open. He looks at her, that little thing on his passenger seat, so small, flushed and aroused, red splotches dancing on her cheeks while her eyes are hooded as she worries her lip between her teeth. He keeps circling that sensitive bud that throbs under his touch, until he has to take his hand away to shift gears as the traffic light changes to green.
Her sigh mirrors his. He chuckles softly, while she looks away, her face even redder now. They keep driving in silence until he pulls into a parking garage below one of the stores he wanted to take her to. It's very quiet when he cuts the engine and turns to her. She is still chewing on her lip, and he reaches out to stop her as he notices how swollen they already are.
She looks at him, and her mouth opens slightly, an instinct as his thumb moves closer, but he pulls it away before she can suck on it again. So predictable, his little kitten. He smirks at her, admiring the small pout that crosses her features. Forcing himself to look away, he gets out of the car and walks around the hood to her side, opens the door and leans over her to unbuckle her seat belt. She hasn't even tried to do it herself, she's learning already.
When his face is in line with hers, he grabs her chin and presses his lips to hers for a quick kiss, holding her gaze. “You'll be a good girl for me, right?” he whispers, hovering close to her, waiting for her to react. She nods. “You'll do whatever I tell you?”
“Yes, sir,” she breathes against his lips, and he gives her another kiss in response. Leaning back with a smile, he then extends his hand. She grabs it instantly and lets him pull her out of the car. She's so tiny against him, it melts his heart, which in turn sends a strange heat lower down his body.
Squeezing her hand, he pulls her away with another sigh of frustration. As much as he wants to press her against his car and fuck her raw in this very parking garage, he knows he shouldn't and he won't. This fucking restraint. Instead he drags her towards the elevator and punches the button a little too hard while simultaneously trying not to break the girl's hand with how tight he's holding it.
She doesn't protest, though, just follows him, her old sneakers squeaking on the polished floor. He fights another image of railing her in the elevator, right under the surveillance camera, their reflections all around them, her face contorted in pleasure as he bounces her up and down on his thick cock while the small cubicle pushes its way up the building. A stifled groan slips from his throat as he closes his eyes to force the thought away, and it's the little squeeze of her hand that grounds him again. Inhaling deeply, he opens his eyes and looks down at her.
Seeing her soft expression, full of equal parts curiosity and anxiety, he just shoots her a strained smile and pulls her against his side, savoring her warmth, the little flutter of her breath as she leans into him. They stand in comfortable silence until the doors slide open with a ding, and he grabs her hand again and pulls her along gently, keeping her next to him until they reach an unassuming door.
He never walks into shops through the front door if he can help it, it's become a good habit, a necessary need sometimes. Rapping his knuckles gently against the slick surface, he waits, and only a few moments later, the door opens, and they are greeted by a smiling older woman with big hair and too much perfume. He nods at her and she bows her head as she welcomes them into the backroom of her store.
The girl pushes against him instinctively, timid and confused, searching his body heat, the safety of his hold, and he grants it to her, putting one arm around her slim shoulders as he guides her through the narrow hallways until they enter a carpeted room lined with mirrors and a shelf full of tailor equipment.
“What an adorable little thing,” the woman drawls in obviously fake enthusiasm as she closes the door behind them, shutting out the muffled chatter from the front of the shop where other clients rummage through the various clothing racks. “So how did you like the clothes I sent you? Was everything alright with them?”
He looks down at the girl who meets his gaze, a little frown between her brows. “They were perfect, but I'd like you to measure her properly. You got the list I made?”
“Of course, sir,” the seamstress replies in her borderline annoying sing-sang voice. If it wouldn't be for her discretion and their long history together, he couldn't stand spending another minute with her. “I'm glad you brought her, it's always easier to find the right things if I can get my hands on the object wearing them.”
Object. While he chuckles at the word, he sees the girl in his arm frowning deeply. But that's what she is, that's what they all were. Objects, toys, dolls he could dress and undress and do whatever he wanted to. He leads her to the little platform in the middle of the room, and she hesitates as she steps on it, her eyes widening slightly.
“Take off your dress, baby,” he tells her, cocking his head to the side. While she stares at him, his insides tense. The first real test. Will she obey without fussing? It's important to him to know that she will do what he tells her, especially in front of strangers. His hands slip along her arms, palms pressing into her skin, a demanding grip, as he stares down at her, eyes narrowed, and she takes a shuddering breath and nods, slowly reaching for the hem of the dress. He relaxes and lets go of her. “Good girl.”
He watches her as she slowly pulls the dress over her head, hands shaking, body stiff, breathing heavily, but she's focusing on him, trying to ignore the woman waiting behind them. He takes the dress from her and hands it back to the seamstress without looking at her, his eyes focused only on the naked torso in front of him. She's trying to cover herself, her arms squishing her small breasts together as her hands rest in front of her soiled panties, her thighs clamped together tightly, and there's panic in her eyes.
He's almost forgotten about his cum in her underwear, and a sigh escapes him. It doesn't matter to him, and certainly not to the woman waiting to do her job, but he feels the girl's discomfort, wants to tell her that he dragged girls in here in far worse conditions, but ultimately he just steps closer and grabs her hands, holds her wrists, looks at her intently. “It's okay, keep them on,” he says quietly. “No need to be ashamed.”
She swallows visibly and nods, biting her lip. He tilts his head, gaze fixed on her mouth, and she stops the nervous motion, moves her tongue between her lips before pressing them into a thin line. He lets go of her and nods in return, ignoring the curious gaze from the other woman as she steps around them, a flexible measuring tape in her hands. She must think he's lost it now, with how soft and gentle he treats the girl in front of him.
He's never been like this, so considerate, comforting, patient. He usually brought his toys here to be left with the tailor, not caring about their discomfort. They usually barely noticed where they were anyway, he'd make sure of it, so bringing her here, as pure as she is, so willing and eager, mind open enough to follow his commands without having been coerced (by drugs at least), it's a first for all parties involved.
Stepping away, he holds her gaze until he leans against the wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest, watching her as she comes to terms with her surroundings, or the woman starting to take her measurements. She's thorough and rough, grabs the girl's arms and lifts them as if she were indeed just a doll – that is until she flinches away and winces when the woman forces her legs apart, and he sees the restraint in the seamstress' motions, she's about to slap the poor girl for disobedience, but instead she turns to him.
“Tell her to stay still.”
He shoots the woman a dark glance, and she bows her head, but holds his gaze, determined to continue her job, no matter whose money is paying her to do so.
With a sigh, he looks at the girl behind her who freezes when she meets his eyes. He doesn't have to say anything, she issues a tiny nod and lowers her head, standing stock-still on the podium, letting the woman grab her limbs to measure them. Her face, however, is bright red, and she even clenches her hands into fists, fighting the urge to flinch time and time again, especially when the tailor slips the measuring tape around her thighs, dangerously close to where he can see the little wet stain in her panties.
He watches her, thinking back to the list he made. He isn't just ordering underwear for her, also dresses, cute and more elegant ones, but most importantly things the store doesn't sell in their front window display. Closing his eyes for a moment, he can already imagine her in the lacy sets, her small body covered in the intricate straps of the garter belts holding those soft stockings that will hug her legs, and that he can't wait to peel off her.
And then there are the harnesses, the cuffs, the belts, all kinds of restraints he wants to put on her to rid her of her last ounce of self-control. He wants her to lose it all, lose herself for him, give herself up to him and him alone. She'll love it, he's sure, eventually.
A sudden slapping sound breaks him from his daydreams of tying her to the bed, and his eyes fly open. The girl lets out a whimper, slouching her shoulders, while the woman stands in front of her with the measuring tape wrapped around her small bust, the rigid tape pressing hard into her nipples. There's a barely there red spot on the girl's cheek. He pushes off the wall and walks closer.
“Everything okay?” he asks, his voice low and with a dangerous edge to it. The seamstress stiffens.
“She kept moving about,” she explains, quickly finishing the measurement of the girl's chest to step away from him. “How am I supposed to get her exact measurements if she fights this so much?”
“She's not yours to slap,” he says darkly, his eyes moving along the naked body in front of him. The girl's chest rises and falls quicker, her head bowed, but her hands relax slightly.
“Yes, sir,” the woman replies quietly as she returns to wrap the tape around the girl's slim waist from behind her, her motions much more careful now. “I apologize...”
He hums in response, extending a hand to touch the blemished cheek. She meets his gaze, eyes big and full of concern, but they soften when he caresses her softly. “Keep still,” he reminds her quietly, and she nods into his hand. Pressing his thumb to her lips, she parts them, but he only smirks at her and gives her a wink as he pulls his hand away again, his cock stirring at the sight of her little pout.
Returning to lean against the wall, he keeps watching the scene, slowly slipping back into his fantasies, smiling to himself as he thinks about the girl clad in white lace, or black, or that soft pink that will fit her as well, and how he will then remove that fancy lingerie he's paying way too much for. He could strip her gently, let her wear a certain set again, or he could rip it off, cut it off, tear it away until she's bare in front of him. That'll depend on his mood.
TEN 🟥 ELEVEN 🟥 TWELVE
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End notes: Welcome back to SEASON TWO of INFATUATED!
I wrote the following ten chapters down in about a week (like I did the first ten, actually), it'll get quite intense, but there will be more backstory as well, as hinted in this chapter already. Things will thicken, the plot included. I hope you are ready!
Thank you for coming back to read this depraved piece of fiction.
Next chapter on Sunday!
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TAG LIST:
@untamedheart81 @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290
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AO3 / / / MASTERLIST
CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾ SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN
ELEVEN◾️TWELVE
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yellowbunnydreams · 3 months
Text
Do You Need Some Vitamin D? (Part 2) (Incubus!Afton x Oblivious!Reader)
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~Hello all! I'm back again...for a bit anyway, just been busy with life and stuff. Hope you are all doing well, I figured you could probably do with something to prove I am actually alive~
@ruh--roh-raggy xp-doggy redbunny03
CW: 18+ MINORS DNI. Fluff, age gap (Reader 20's - William Afton 40's(?)), teratophilia, meet-cute, punny pick-up lines, scenes of working out, minor porn-logic, ditzy! reader, could be classed as bimbo! reader?, size-difference, flirting, monster-lover, sexual innuendos, Monster! AU
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Heading to work on the next Monday was certainly uneventful after the interesting text you had received from your boss over the weekend. Somehow, that photo hadn't been saved to your phone, but you definitely didn't keep scrolling back to look at it, admiring the little details about how his strong arms looked in the low light, how tight the shirt seemed across his broad chest. But you thought you had gotten over those thought by the time your shift rolled around.
Until William Afton walked in in that damn shirt.
"Okay, now you're staring." Your co-worker made you jump as they snuck up behind you. Seeing the familiar face of Claire behind you and making you blush and scowl, shaking your head as you turned back to look at Mr. Afton, before realising that he has already gone to the office with a surprising pang of disappointment.
"I'm not staring!"
"You totally were...Was he wearing a new shirt today? I'm not sure I've ever seen him in colour." Claire raised an eyebrow, and you tried to shrug nonchalantly.
"I wouldn't be able to tell you." Claire's eyebrows went higher on her face as she put her hands on her hips, giving you a slightly tilted head look that you knew meant she saw right through you.
"Right...And you definitely aren't blushing right now!" She thought for a moment before her eyes widened, giddily gripping onto you and smirking as you looked slightly confused by her sudden enthusiasm. "You have a crush on Mr. Afton!"
"No!"
"Yes! Oh. Em. Gee! You have a crush on our boss!"
"Faz-fuck off with that! Do you want me to get in trouble? And I don't have a crush, he's just...nice." Your cheeks heating up as you avoided her gaze, but your colleuge simply tutted and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, holding you tight to one side.
"Wow, never pinned you for the type to go for older guys...Why don't you ask him out to the Valentine's Dance?" She teased, earning a sharp jab in the ribs from your elbow and a playful pout from her.
"I'm NOT going to ask our BOSS to the Valentine's party." Earning an eyeroll from Claire as she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow again. You were sure if she kept doing that, she would be stuck in a permanently surprised expression.
Claire simply shook her head, throwing her hands up in the air as she chuckled slightly, turning to go and walk off to the main floor and direct you towards the prize counter. Looking over her shoulder and smiling wickedly as she shrugged.
"You know, I'm going to ask that DILF out for you if you keep this up. You're going to ask him."
"What the faz-fuck is a DILF Claire?" You asked, staring after her with a mildly confused expression. "Claire?"
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Monday's were never busy at Freddy's, so you never had to really worry about keeping ontop of all the niggly little jobs that made you want to curl up and cry; like untangling the slinkies because a kid just have to have that specific one, or a parent complaining that the claw machine hadn't payed out despite their kid 'winning' and having to crawl around for the one specific plushie that you knew they hadn't won but you had to retrieve anyway.
The prize counter was however, mercifully quiet on Mondays, and it also gave you a good vantage point of the employee's only door, where you could see everybody coming and going, including Mr. William Afton.
It was weird, how you noticed him a little more as he stepped out onto the floor today. How that purple shirt was still a little bigger on his frame than the broad man should really be wearing, even though you swore the photo on your phone showed him filling it out, the colour complimented him though. His greying hair swept back out of his face, that greying beard that you found yourself wondering how it would feel if he brushed his cheek against yours... Shaking your head, you quickly snapped out of it, it wasn't appropriate to think that way about him, he was your boss after all.
He however, was thinking similarly about you. Not that you would ever know it aside from the slight smile that curled his lip whenever he looked in your direction. William's heart pounded slightly in his chest as he slowly made his way over to the prize counter, making sure to stop and greet staff and reprimand them if needs be, saying hello to customers. It was all torturous to him as all he wanted was to see you, take his mind off of paperwork for a while and enjoy the soft vanillaish smell you always seemed to have. It was that or cocoa butter, he couldn't decide, but you smelt like candy to him, and it made his mouth water in more ways than one.
You glanced up as a shadow fell across your back, placing out some new prizes with the ticket price stuck on gently with tape. Turning to give your usual greeting before finding yourself looking at a broad chest, eyes wandering up as your cheeks heated and your eyes met intense silver behind gold framed aviators.
"Mr Afton! Nice of you to pop over to see me." William blinked for a second before chuckling, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly and giving you that lopsided smile that made him look quite charming.
"Well, I thought I would come see what prizes are up for grabs...I have a few spare tickets from me getting bored." You smiled back at the thought of him playing the same arcade games and silly games as the kids, such an imposing man being a kid at heart. Watching him stuff one large hand into his pocket as he spoke to you.
"That's great! What can I get you, sir?" Watching his eyes scanning the thick, freshly cleaned glass at all the prizes before his eyes caught something, his smile widening as he reached over the counter and gently pulled a ticket from your vest, your own heart racing in your chest as his thick fingers brushed against your ribs ever so slightly and your eyes naturally followed his hand as he flipped the ticket over to show you.
"Two-hundred tickets for a sweet like you? I'd gladly give triple for this prize." You giggled and shook your head, hair bouncing softly around your face as you touched the back of your own neck. It was silly, he almost sounded like he was flirting with you, but you chalked it up to your silly thoughts about the older man recently.
"I'm afraid I don't think you can own a human, sir, and thanks for picking that off, it must have gotten stuck there earlier." Laughing it off as William paused then chuckled, his smile tightening just a fraction.
"Right...No of course I can't own you. Six hundred Faz-Tokens seems like a measly compensation for a life anyway." He was confused by you again, and it made him all the more intrigued. He thought the flirting was obvious this time, he even called you a prize, asked to own you, implied he wanted to take you home. Yet there you were, barely reacting like it was nothing. The fingers in his pocket laced around a few cherry candies in his pocket, pulling them out and unwrapping one, popping it between his teeth and offering you the other. "What prize would you get, if tickets were no problem?"
Looking at the prizes, you hummed as you considered it, taking the candy with a quiet thanks and placing it in your vest pocket, not wanting to indulge in front of your boss. After a few moments however, your eyes landed on a toy-bonnie plushie and you smiled, pointing it out in the case.
"Spring-Bonnie, he's always been my favourite." William's relaxed smile returned, and he gestured for you to take it out. Counting out the eight hundred Faz-Tokens on the counter, he pushed them towards you and then pushed the plushie back against your chest as you offered it to him, leaving you a little confused yourself.
"Well, I hope he's going to a good home then."
"Sir?"
"He's yours, doll, keep him. As a token of my gratitude for putting up with such a silly old man." Rubbing the back of his neck, you shook your head after a moment, carefully cradling the plushie to your chest as your cheeks heated up once more. Maybe you were developing a cold, or coming down with something..Maybe Claire had been right about you starting to develop a crush on your boss.
"You're not a silly old man, Mr. Afton, I find you quite funny, and you always brighten my day." It was William's turn to blush as he looked down at you, giving that warmest smile that made his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. You could have sworn you heard the sound of his foot tapping repeatedly against the plush carpet, watching him rock back and forth onto his heels a few times.
"That means a lot to hear, bunny. Enjoy your new friend." With that, he walked off, leaving you clutching onto the yellow velveteen rabbit with the purple bow-tie carefully. Smiling happily to yourself as you thought how you perhaps wished just a little bit that he was really flirting with you.
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When you got home that night, you debated for a long time how you could thank William Afton properly for his kind gift. And for the candy too. You carefully sucked on the hard sweet, savouring the almost too sweet cherry flavour as you got changed into pyjamas and glanced over at the Spring-Bonnie plush on your dresser, deciding something for a moment before taking a deep breath.
"Fuck it." You said to the plushie, picking it up and stroking the soft ears as you placed it down on your bedspread, setting it up carefully so that it was nice and presentable before whipping our your phone and snapping a picture. Pausing over your keyboard, trying to think of something subtle and funny to put before sending it to your most recent contact.
William's phone buzzed as he hunched over the bench in his workshop, his thick fingers moving the animatronic parts before him with a practised precision. Shirt changed out for a more comfortable t-shirt and feeling his foot tapping against the floor in no particular rhythm. Lit cigarette burning in the ashtray besides him as one large hand reached out to pick it up and take a drag whilst the other grabbed his phone. Clicking open the message without a thought as he was sure it was from Henry, trying to talk to him about 'his outdated methods'.
His heart practically stopped however, when he saw the picture that had been sent through.
From what little he could see, the bed was a single, the sheets neatly made up and white, able to just make out some form of pattern across the duvet cover. The walls were beige, which surprised him as he had always suspected that you weren't a beige wall person. But what really caught his attention, was the presence of a familiar Spring-Bonnie plush, front and centre to the bedding, tucked against the pillows in pride of place. His silver eyes wandered to the caption quickly as he wondered what you had to say. Had it been a mistake?
'I thought you would like to see that he's settled into his new home. Thanks for the candy by the way, I'm not usually a cherry person but I'm eating it now :)'
William's hand instinctually reached for his pocket, pulling out another candy and unwrapping it quickly and putting it in his mouth. Tobacco and cherry mixing together to create a unique sensation that made his brain light up happily, swearing softly under his breath that he was constantly running out of pocket candies since he had a bad habit of crunching them rather than savouring the taste. Thinking for a moment before he finally replied.
'He looks comfy, Although that bed looks rather uncomfortable for cuddling in.'
You blushed as William mentioned cuddling, but you tried to shake the thought out of your head as you tried to image those large, strong arms wrapped around you, holding you against his chest.
'Well, he's not oversized, so we should fit fine. He's nice and soft! Not like I've ever slept in a bigger bed anyway :p' Climbing into bed, you were tempted to send another picture, but knew that would be overstepping professional boundaries by a country mile. Unknowingly to you, William had the same thought and barely got to snuffing out his cigarette before he practically sprinted up the stairs, feeling his legs changing as he went, feet becoming more elongated and lapine to accomodate his bounding strides. Almost throwing off his slacks and diving into his bed like he hadn't been down in his basement just moments before. The perk of supernatural speed, he supposed.
The next message you received was a photo, another one that brought colour and heat to your cheeks and gave you the start of a fluttering feeling in your stomach as you looked at it. William Afton was in bed, his broad chest obscured by a thick pillow that he clutched tightly with one large hand, his chin rested ontop with a lazy, almost half-asleep smile on his face. Glasses pressed into one side of his nose as you thought it was rather cute and somehow kind of hot at the same time.
'Well, there's always plenty of room in mine if you want to try it for size. Goodnight, bunny, see you tomorrow.' William wondered if he went too far, but it felt right to invite you, to extend the offer and hope you realised just how badly he would rather replace the pillow with your smaller body against his, but he missed your reply, as he soon fell asleep clutching onto the pillow. Holding it and twitching in his sleep as his nose wriggled, dreaming that the person of his obsession was against him instead of an inanimate object.
'Goodnight Mr. Afton. It does look comfy there, but that could be what's in the bed, lol' You knew the older man would definitely not be flirting with you, you imagined him to be more of a flowers and a date kind of guy, rather than pick-up lines. Not that you were entirely sure why you kept having those thoughts about him at all, but as you curled up on your side, you knew that somehow, you had to flirt with the giant man.
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zukosdualdao · 5 months
Text
a wound to close, the whole thing open
zutara month, day 2: journal/diary.
summary: when katara searches the attic of ember island, she comes across a journal, hidden away on an old bookshelf.
warnings: implied/referenced child abuse wrt ozai's treatment of zuko. what's referenced here is emotional abuse and i would say at show-canon levels.
other notes: title is from gracie abrams' "camden". also, this fic is very much 'picture taken moments before mild disaster', because i imagine after the end, katara still finds ozai's baby picture, thinking it's zuko, and her thought process is 'well that was sad but look at cute baby zuko!' oops!
Katara knows she’s wrong to snoop, but it’s just so hard to resist now they’re somewhere a young Zuko once lived for stolen weeks of golden summers at a time. For so long, she’d never wondered about him much at all—she’d had, after all, no reason to want to know the boy who chased them around the world in his pursuit of capturing Aang—but things are different now.
First, there had been the catacombs of Ba Sing Se, and she’d caught another glimpse of that boy, another side of him. Wearing Earth Kingdom robes two sizes too big for him, with grief and sympathy that matched hers shining in his eyes, saying strange things about destiny and curses and seeming so lost.
Katara had spent long weeks after the fact wondering whether any of it was true as she struggled to capture sleep on that stolen Fire Navy ship. 
Of course, that was far from the only anxiety on her mind. Wondering when Aang would wake up, if he would at all… Sokka’s growing plans for the invasion, and what it could mean for all of them… being with her father for the first time in years, how half of her wanted to light up at the comfort of it but the other couldn’t dare because he went away and what if it happened again?
And Zuko…
She would turn to her other side, her chin resting on a flat hand, and wonder about him. He’d seemed so sincere, but Katara had wondered often how that could be the case when just moments later, he was catapulting rage and fire in her direction. 
But then he’d come to them and begged for a chance to prove himself. 
And even before she wanted to, far before she felt ready for it, she’d started to come to know things about him. How he would get up at dawn every morning—rising with the sun, she’d thought bitterly—to practice his own firebending forms before his lessons with Aang. How he’d sometimes frown when making the first batch of tea for them around a campfire and then make a second and always seemed to light up when their meals had a little extra spice to them.
How he would sometimes squirm just a little and hesitate a beat and sometimes even bristle before smiling shyly when the others teased him, as though it took a moment to steady his footing and catch up to the fact that it was only teasing.
She had started to know him, to really know him, before she’d wanted to, before she’d forgiven him, before she decided it was safe to let the distance between them shrink.
But now they’re friends. And with the comet looming in the coming days, with things a little tense and strange between everyone since that disaster of the play, and with the vestiges of Zuko’s childhood right here, it’s hard not to be curious.
And, as she reasons to herself while setting the cooking pot of solid silver atop the bookshelf, at least she has deniability. 
The shelves are lined with old books, with gold thread traced through their spines, and old scrolls with white parchment coloring yellow, with shiny maps, and…
Katara’s brow scrunches as she catches sight of what seems to be an old journal, bound by leatherskins, poking out from behind one of the old tomes, clearly meant to be hidden away.
She reaches for it. It’s such a small, delicate thing, really, but it feels heavy in her hands.
When she flips to the first pages, she recognizes the symbols for Zuko’s name, written out in a long, intense, careful scrawl. She’s never seen his handwriting before, but it matches what she might’ve guessed it would look like, teetering between bold and delicate.
Katara flips past the first pages, which seem to mostly consist of Zuko practicing his letters, and comes across what seems to be a draft of a letter he’d written to Iroh, certain lines crossed out or words respelled after an ink-permanent error. He asks after when Iroh will return from the war—and she shudders to think that the kindly old man who'd helped them on more than one occasion had once been much different, the terrible Dragon of the West, laying siege to Ba Sing Se.
But in another line, Zuko writes to his uncle about a festival and paper dragons. Her heart swells to think he was once so young and even playful.
Atop the right corner of the page, there is a tiny, shaded-in sketch of a blooming fire lily. Katara smiles.
She flips through more pages, most of which are much the same as the first several, but then pauses. On this one, there are dark patches—the kind that she can tell came from water drying on the parchment, and it’s now wrinkled. Once, she might have been able to salvage the page with her bending, but the water has long-since dried up and left only deterioration in its wake.
It’s…
The page is tear-stained. He’d cried when writing this.
Gulping, Katara squints her eyes to read his small script, so much shakier than the previous pages had been. She can’t read most of it, for the smears and the wrinkling of the page, and she’s not sure she even wants to, anyway, because what she does manage to scan through makes her feel a little sick, her stomach clenching.
—don’t know what I can do, he had written, and it’s all too easy to imagine a much younger version of her friend with tears in his eyes, sobs wracking his shoulders, a lonely figure in a dark attic. — to better, to not so weak. 
There's a series of words Katara can’t make out, but she does catch Father and love.
And then, one shining beacon of hope:
But Mom says—
The writing stops there. She will never know what his mother used to say.
She flips through the rest of the journal, but the pages are hauntingly blank. There are no more entries after that. 
Katara places the journal back where it was tucked and has the vague sense that she’s back where she started.
A strange guilt gnaws at her. Somehow, she thinks she understands Zuko both better and worse than she did before.
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m-jelly · 1 year
Note
Hey there Jelly! If requests are open, may I request Hange x Fem! Titan Shifter reader? Hange spots the reader in her Titan form, helping animals and killing other titans. Hanger just looks at Her and is like "Yep, I can live with that!" Thank you for your time Jelly!
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Love in all shapes and sizes
Hange x fem!Reader
Canon world, romance, falling in love, fluff, cute, sweet, titan shifter reader.
Hange goes for a horse ride to clear her head and stumbles across you. She watches you as you care for animals and stop other titans from getting close. Hange approaches and starts talking to you. You get to know her and reveal who you really are.
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The wind tousled Hange's hair as she rode across the field. She knew very well that there could be some leftover titans in the area, but she didn't care and she was armed. For a moment, she wanted to be free. Countless responsibilities had been thrust upon her. It was becoming too much.
She closed her eye for a moment and enjoyed the freedom. Loud stomping made her open her eye and look over to where the noise was coming from. She slowed down as she watched a breathtakingly beautiful female titan carefully pick up a few sheep and place them back into a pen.
"Holy shit." She grinned as she felt excited about meeting another titan shifter. "I hope she's friendly."
Hange raced over to the female titan and kept a close watch. She yanked on the reins of the horse and gasped when the titan raced over to her. She expected death, but the titan ran past her. Hange looked behind her to see the titan grab the neck of an abnormal reaching for her. The female ripped the titan's head off and dropped the body on the floor.
You panted and turned to look at Hange gazing at you with adoration in her eyes. You squatted next to her and smiled. "May I carry you?"
Hange inhaled deeply. "Another talking titan!"
You hummed a laugh. "Yes. So, may I?"
"Please!"
You picked Hange up and placed her on your shoulder. "Hold on. I'll also carry your horse." You cradled the horse and rose to your feet. "I will take you to my home."
Hange gripped your hair as you walked towards a cottage with a farm area. "Pretty place! I didn't know anyone lived out here because of the Titans."
You gently placed the horse in your stables. You reached up to Hange. "Come."
Hange stepped onto your hand and held your thumb as you lowered her. "So, are you a human?"
You sat in front of her. "I...I am...please don't hand me over. I...I love it here. I have a cat and a dog. I have animals...please."
Hange gasped. "I would never! You are just living your life here beyond the walls."
You hummed. "I have been hiding. Titans only eat people and I kill Titans. So, I've been okay."
Hange offered her hand. "I'm Hange Zoe!"
You reached over and let her grab a finger as you introduced yourself. "Lovely to meet you." You hummed a laugh. "You're not afraid?"
"We have a shifter working with us!"
You smiled. "That's good."
"So..."
You shook your head. "No thank you. I understand you need help, but I don't want to get involved. I've been hurt enough for being different. I enjoy being here alone with my animals."
Hange pouted. "Can I be here?"
You blushed a little. "Only if you want to."
"I do!" She grinned. "Can I meet the real you?"
You released a long sigh. "As long as you promise not to tell anyone about me."
"I swear."
You smiled and lay down. "Okay." You pulled from the back of the neck of the titan and gasped. You pulled free and made your way down to Hange. "This is me."
Hange gazed at you in awe. You were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. The marking on your face framed you so perfectly. You were graceful and yet strong. Her eyes traced your body and the way it moved and curved. You were a divine being in her eyes.
Hange shivered as arousal shot through you. "You're hot."
You went bright red. "Th-thank you. You are a very beautiful woman." You pointed to your home. "Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?"
"Yes please!" She hugged your arm and walked with you. "Damn, you even smell good."
You smiled a little. "I make my own soap."
"You're incredible. I like you."
Your heart skipped a beat. "I like you also."
175 notes · View notes
onsunnyside · 2 years
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🍁≬ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝟏/𝟐)
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𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | photographer!Ari Levinson x reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | glimpses of fluff, angst, old flames, childhood friends-to-loves aftermath, ex-boyfriend!Ari, size difference: 6’8!Ari.
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Even the most beautiful love stories are bound to end in tragedy, but you thought you and Ari would be an exception.
𝗪/𝗖 | 3.64K
𝗔/𝗡 | currently in my sad autumn girl era but i know it won’t last long so i wanted to share this with you all. sort of poured my heart into it and wrote most of this in a teary haze last night. Inspired by Taylor Swift’s songs: Sad Beautiful Tragic, Exile, All Too Well, The Last Time. [𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 | all asks]. All mistakes are my own. 
˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Don’t look, don’t look, you force your eyes on the television mounted above the table, half listening to the chatter of your friends and the hushed music playing from the speakers. 
A nudge brings your attention to your redheaded friend, “How have you been? You haven’t answered my texts.”
“Sorry, I’ve been working a lot.” The music shop didn’t get very busy, but Natasha didn’t need to know that you spent the past weeks buried in turmoil, revisiting every decision you’ve ever made that brought you here. “I also applied to the dance studio as an instructor, I’m still waiting for them to get back to me.” 
Her green gaze pools with worry. Of course, you’d answer a question about how you were with what you were doing. She hated to pry, but she cared for you like a sister. If you were hurting, she wanted to put a stop to it, or talk about it and try to understand. She couldn’t do that if you refused to open up.
“If you want to leave, that’s fine, I’ll walk you out.”
“I’m okay, Nat. I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.” 
The both of you know that’s a bald-faced lie. Especially because you’ve done everything to not peek in his direction. 
Natasha is drawn away by one of your other close friends, and they fall into an easy conversation with laughs and bright smiles. Their voices fade into each other, a blissful hum filling the loneliness that has clung to you.
I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.
You spoke too soon. 
Ever so slightly, you glance at the bar. Over the heads of the other patrons, his gaze meets yours. Deep blue, unreadable and sharp, piercing heavily through your face. 
Seeing him now, he’s different. His hair is longer, his beard is thicker, and he’s dressed in clothes you’ve never seen before—apart from his signature leather jacket that he wore for most of the year. 
You wonder if the way he carries himself all the same, with quiet grace and self-assurance, too often falling victim to his insecurities. 
You missed him. 
You missed his stupidly loud alarm clock, his cute bedhead and how he never failed to keep you warm on winter nights. You missed his endless rants about society, space and the world, past, present and future. His mind stretched into infinity, and you never always understood what he was saying, but you listened nonetheless. Listening was the best thing someone could do. 
Your eyes fall on the loose and shaggy fabric around his neck. The cream knit was your first little home project, evident with the frayed threads and stubborn coffee stains. That single scarf took you a week because of your lack of experience. You worked on it everywhere, on the train, at work and the park. Your favourite place to knit was next to him as he hunched over his computer desk and went through hundreds of photographs with his glasses on the tip of his nose.
That was the one thing he didn’t mail back. 
He goes around the table, handing out everyone’s selected drinks with greetings. “Sorry, I’m late. I got stuck at the studio with this last-minute family portrait session.” 
“At least it wasn’t another self-proclaimed influencer.” Curtis snorts.
“Fuck no, thank goodness for that.” He laughs, almost too gleeful. When he gets to you, he simply sets the drink on the wooden countertop and flashes a tense smile.
It either took one or ten minutes for you to sip the drink before you rushed out the back door with an excuse about fresh air. 
The cool, November air welcomes you with open arms as if it knew you wouldn’t last very long. You lean on the railing, distracting yourself with the red, orange and yellow trees across the way. The music and chatter fade into whispers, and the crickets and gentle wind take their place. Down below, the water ripples against the rocks, the wooden poles dark and green from the lake, another victim to time, just like everything else.  
The fall season itself was a tale of death. The days got shorter because the sun comes and goes all too quickly and the leaves turn into different shades before falling to the ground. Bidding farewell in warm colour pallets and leave the trees bare, mere skeletons of life, dormant and dull.
Then, they’re reincarnated by spring. Brought back by more sunshine and warmth, blooming hues the world has longed for. 
You wondered when your spring would come, or if you’d be trapped in perpetual autumn. Be forced to feel every part of you change into red, yellow or orange and fall until there is nothing left and you're in a barren comatose. 
You stare down at your dress, the very one he said was his favourite. The soft blue silk is highlighted by the dim fairy lights hung up on the fence. Memories are woven into the fabric and they’re all good because you stopped wearing this dress when things got worse. With a brush of the lace hem, you’re reminded of him.
“I knew you’d look beautiful in this.” 
“You have to stop buying me things, we have bills to pay.”
He scoffs, “bills aren’t going to help my girl realize how beautiful she is.” He takes your hand, pressing his plump lips on your knuckles, “I know it, the world knows it, but she doesn’t. And that isn’t okay with me.” 
The door swings open and slams into the wall, making you jump. 
“Oh shit, sorry!” His voice rings out, “Didn’t mean to scare you, I thought the door was heavier.” 
You quickly wipe your eyes, not caring about your makeup anymore. You tried hard to look your best tonight and embody that healed person you’ve pretended to be for the past few weeks. But he couldn’t say hi or your name. Why couldn’t he say your name?
He tucks away his cigarettes, “You stay, I’ll go out front. You probably want to be alone.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m going to call a cab.” 
“You’re leaving?”
“Natasha knows I have an early morning.” You keep it simple and duck away from his gaze, hugging your purse close as some sort of lifesaver that was keeping you from floating into the sky. Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind that abrupt escape after hearing his next words. 
“Wait—I mean, I’ll wait with you. It’s too late for you to be outside by yourself.” 
Your stride doesn’t slow, you hope he’ll get the hint and just go back inside, but with his mile-long legs, he easily catches up to you. His boots land heavily on the boardwalk and the buckles of his leather jacket chime, filling the strained silence.
“So, did you see that new cinema downtown?”
“Please don’t.”
He raises his arms in defence, a smile audible in his voice, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you hated movies.” 
“Ari.” Your shoulders slump and the sorrow gets heavier. You swear the world could cave under your feet. “Don’t try to—” You cut yourself off, knowing if you didn’t get away now, you’d regret it, “I want to be alone right now.” 
The pine trees sway in the breeze, surrounding you with their natural scent. 
He takes one hesitant step back, nodding slowly. “Right, I’m probably the last person you want to see.”
He couldn’t be more wrong and that only worsened the pain. How could he think that when he was the only person you wanted to see every day for over a decade? 
It stretches far back to when you were children and living down the street from each other. 
How could he think that when you used to wait out on the porch for him to pass by so you could walk to school together? How could he think that when you’ve spent hundreds of hours writing about his face in your diaries, about how his smile could light up a stadium and how his eyes were endless pools of stories and wishes? 
How could he?
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Ari’s features grow concerned as the hot tears stream down your cheeks. “It’s okay—” He reaches for you, gently grasping your hand. 
“No, it’s not.” You try to shrug him off, not bothering to wipe your face. He knew you were crying out here anyway. He knew you more than he knew himself, so it wouldn’t surprise you if he also knew what you were thinking right now—where did he find the audacity to say it’s okay? “I’m sad—I’m still so sad. And you aren’t.” 
Ari stiffens and releases your hand as if he’d been burned. His cerulean eyes are shaded by the night, and darkness bleeds onto his solemn face, “You think I’m not sad?”
You tearily blink, waving towards the bar by the lake. “You seemed pretty happy in there—and you acted like you didn’t even know me.” 
Sure, you probably would’ve cried if he spoke to you, but at least he would have acknowledged you. You’d take that glimmer of attention over his silence any day.
“I was—I am heartbroken.” He confesses, his long hair falling over his forehead as he stares down at you, “I didn’t know if you wanted me to talk to you—”
“Yet you followed me out here anyway.” 
Even in the moonlight, you can see his cheeks turn cherry red. 
“Okay, but I was checking on you. I didn’t mean for this to happen and to make you cry.” He protests, “Am I not allowed to worry about you?”
You close your eyes and shake your head, turning on your heel to continue down the boardwalk. The main street mocks you in the distance, beckoning you with yellow streetlights and the chance to escape, but his fingers wrap around your wrist, holding tightly.
“Wait, please. I’m sorry.” 
His touch is warm and familiar, the other end of the double-edged sword. On one end is the busy street, the carefree people living their lives on this fall evening, the cars driving by, and your bittersweet freedom—but also your lonely apartment with your cold, empty bed. The other end, the one entwining with your trembling fingers, is suffocatingly soft and inviting. Enticing you to stay and listen, but at what cost? Would it only bring more suffering draped in so-called closure or more confusion that your heart couldn’t take?
“Muse—”
“Don’t.”
He inhales deeply and you feel his breath on the back of your head. “I’m devastated, I’m alone, I’m stuck in this disordered loop that I don’t know how to get out of.” His grip constricts, once then twice but you force yourself to stay as unresponsive as a corpse. “You were my first for everything, I-I wanted you to be my last.” 
You knew that and you wanted the same thing. You’ve discussed it countless nights in your shared bed, whispering about the possibilities that the great big world offered, from tamed to outlandish. Picking up a strange hobby, or travelling the globe, he even mentioned moving to a new country altogether, “think about it. A fresh start, just the two of us and unlimited options.”
“I wouldn’t say unlimited, unfamiliar sounds more accurate.” 
“Pick a place, any place and I’ll make it happen.” 
“What if I don’t tell you and just take off alone? Soak up all that freshness by myself.” 
“Oh, then I’ll find you. I’ll follow you anywhere.” 
Experiencing things for the first time together was a big part of your relationship. You were both painstakingly sentimental, which only made it harder to pack your things. Everything reminded you of what was or what could’ve been, you eventually decided to keep what you needed and throw out what carried tender nostalgia. 
You never followed through with that, but you do avoid the many boxes stacked in your closet. Full of pictures, gifts, and anything that reminded you of him. That was where you found this dress.
From the seedlings of memorable firsts, it was inevitable that you two gave each other your first heartbreaks too. 
The tears come back with vengeance, spilling down your heated cheeks, “You ended things.”
“You walked out!” He rushes to apologize, swerving in front of you before you could take another step. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just please, listen to me.” 
Why? He never listened to you in the end. 
Whenever you brought up concerns about weird tension or the growing emptiness, he never listened.  He was all about work and brushed off dates for last-minute gigs. You knew he wanted a greater future for the two of you, something better than your crowded apartment with your roommates (now the close friends in the bar), and something brighter than the stars combined. 
You tried to understand and a part of you did, but the other part couldn’t take it anymore. The part that missed your boyfriend, missed your mindless conversations and quiet nights at home, and when he picked up that camera and photographed you like a piece of art. 
That part of you won. You laid down your weapons and went defenceless into his line of fire, with only your heart in your hands and a rehearsed speech in your head. 
You never made it all the way through because you two started arguing, right in front of your friends, spitting accusations fueled by rage and doubt, making each other into the bigger villain when it was always clear who was the culprit. 
Even now, although you know it’s him, you wonder if you were an accomplice. 
Childhood sweethearts turned college lovers, plenty of people have made it all the way—to whatever was their ideal. Many people have also given up, gotten tired, or fallen out of love. 
You thought you and Ari were stronger than that, and you wouldn’t let the pressures of life, work, and school weigh onto your relationship. But in the end, those voices were always right, and your shared dreams were crushed at the hands of breakdowns, lost time, and agonizing lulls. 
It was ironic how you’re haunted by voices while Ari rarely used his.
Ari wasn’t loud or interruptive. He was quiet and timid, and as he grew up, he slowly came out of his shell and matured into the tall, confident, and gentle giant in front of you. 
When you were kids, he wrote adorably misspelled sentences on sticky notes to drop into your lunchbox, and then in high school, he wrote love letters to slip into your locker. The sweetest part was that he never signed them, yet you always suspected it was him. He pretended to be curious about your newest note from your secret admirer and asked about the contents, all the itty bitty details of the proclamation in black pen.
He was after your heart, and he surely got it. 
He showed his love through touch, gestures and gifts, through photographs and love letters that were kept in a special box. 
It was beautiful in a way that only broken poets, starved artists and silenced lovers could understand. And you and Ari were all three. The tragedy was in colours no one else could see, the script in an undiscovered language, but to you and all the rest of the heartbroken, it was so vivid and clear. You dipped your fingers into that magic shade and poured your heart onto the white walls of the lonely tower, mourning your knight who would never return. 
You made the tragedy your home, wallowed in it, and pitied yourself over every missed opportunity—the fleeted moments where things could have changed, leading you somewhere different from where you were. But you tried to get better, to get clean of him and those noisy, unhelpful thoughts. You wanted to save yourself, to gather the guts to leave that tower and climb down to the lush grass and sparkling rivers below. 
In delusions, you are happy and satisfied, sober from the destruction. But right now, that false comfort was cracking beneath your feet. You wished to board up the windows and hide away from the world, from him. 
“Will you please listen to me?” He pleads, his voice thick, “just listen, you don’t have to say anything or even stay afterward.” 
“Why?” You turn to him, gritting your teeth to keep from sobbing. “Why should I listen to you when you never listened to me? When I told you that were growing apart, you just pushed me further away. Does—” Your voice cracks, “Does that not seem unfair to you?” Did you not deserve the same mercy he was begging for?
It was too late if he wanted to listen this time. It was gone, flatlined, buried under the dirt with overgrown weeds and ivy climbing on the gravestone. Your names were etched into the stone, just another miserable end in the cemetery of the heartbroken, the battered and bruised, the forgotten and silenced. 
You’ve been a ghost ever since he mailed back the things you thought he wanted. Transparent and floating through the graveyard, weeping in wonder, and feebly searching for that scarf—the one thing he kept.
“I won’t ask again. This is the last time, Ari. You won’t get another chance.”
He opens and closes his mouth multiple times, rethinking every thought racing in his head, but then he finally settles on shutting his mouth. Those plump lips pressed firmly together, a barrier for everything he should say—and everything you had the right to hear. 
Defeated, you release his hand. You didn’t realize you were holding him too, it was all just automatic at this point, unlike this moment which is only a rerun of a film you’ve already seen. 
Your gaze traces his face one last time, locking everything to memory from the curve of his dark eyebrows, the shade of his blue eyes, the point of his nose, the blush pink of his lips, and every freckle like they were constellations. 
In a flash, you’re staring at him from across the classroom, watching him slowly write on a yellow sticky note, his tongue poking from between his teeth in concentration. 
Another flash, and you’re watching him bolt down the hallway, passing lockers and other students with his azure eyes set on you. In his hand is an old polaroid camera and he’s wearing the widest grin, “Let’s go to the park.” He almost crashes into you but grasps your shoulder in excitement, illuminating the dull hallway with his glow. 
You laugh, “I have class… and so do you.” 
“Yeah, but the weather is so nice today.” He pouts, already tugging you towards one of the exits. “Plus, you look really pretty. Wouldn’t you rather be my model, than sit in some dusty old classroom?”
He kissed you that day, under the biggest willow tree in the park with his hand on your cheek. He blushed a nervous red and asked so sweetly, “Can I—May I please…” He trailed off, profusely blinking at your parted lips, “Will you let me b-be your first kiss? And will you be mine?”
And finally, you’re back in the present. His looming shadow as he towers over your lifeless frame, executed by the quiet and unspoken words. You’d take anything at this point, from shuddering pleas to choked apologies—you’d grovel for a single syllable. 
“That’s it.” You scoff in disbelief, “all you can do is look at me?”
Again, silence. His eyes pool with tears, seconds away from streaming down his cheeks and matching your wet trails and ruined makeup. He doesn’t speak, but he’s breaking, cracking at the surface like delicate porcelain holding back a flood. 
“You deserve better than me.”
No, he doesn’t get to decide that. He doesn’t get to use that stale statement to dig his own grave, right alongside yours before the final self-deprecating eulogy. It didn’t matter if he thought you deserved better than him, all that should matter was that you wanted him, that you still wanted him even after all of this. 
“So, you’re just gonna let me go? After all we’ve been through?” After you’ve given him everything, and showed him every part of you and let him in.
The first tear falls, dripping down his beard and onto the worn knit. Then another, and another until they’re streaming down his cheeks and soaked up by the scarf. “You’re already gone.” 
There it is, the last nail in the coffin.
Ari has never been aggressive or forceful, but you wished he’d be brave. You wished he’d fight for you, step into the battlefield with an unrelenting resolve to make things right—to get you back. But he doesn’t, he just looks down at you, chewing on his lip with clenched fists. 
He’s surrendered to the war, abandoning you in the tower of tragedy, but joining you in the cemetery of the heartbroken. He’s signing his name on the death certificate and damning you and your wistful dreams, erasing every ‘what if’ that has plagued the both of you since you were children.
“You couldn’t be more wrong.” 
You swallow the lump in your throat and fight the weakness in your knees, but you refuse to do this to yourself again, to give him a chance he won’t take. You turn around and continue down the dock, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself in a form of self-soothing. 
Autumn was a story of demise, but it had to be better than the earsplitting silence. You’d take the cruel cold and neverending abyss over the lack of effort. Right now, there was no spring in sight, no rebirth to raise you from the dead but you’d find your own life someday and somehow without him. You had to save yourself, be your own hero and come out victorious—alone, but triumphant.
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𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:  i’ve already started a part two for those of us who want a happy ending, so if you’re an angsty person, feel free to just leave it at this part. i’ll let you all know when i have a date. this is also my second time writing angst on here, and i had a few good cry sessions. i know this isn't the usual filth but i hope you all enjoyed this nonetheless.
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! i love you all very much. pls take this kith 😚🫶
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! [my inbox] <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
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peachyteabuck · 1 year
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do you think about me now and then / fallon carrington x reader
summary: you and fallon have a very specific type of routine
a commission for @devillskettle
pairing: fallon carrington x reader
words: 1226
trigger warnings: FWB, fingering, strap riding, orgasm, angst if you squint?, 
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Reading is hard.
You’ve been trying to finish this book for weeks. It’s not as though it’s not good! It’s fantastic, it’s been recommended to you by so many people…and yet, here you are on a wintery Friday night, tucked into the world’s most comfortable recliner, with the world’s most comfortable blanket, and the world’s most comfortable three-sizes-too-large hoodie and underwear that’s seen you through three apartments, four girlfriends, and your summer obsession with audio porn.
Here you are, in the perfect conditions to finish this fucking book…and yet here you are, scrolling through Instagram as you stalk yet another person you graduated college with who just got married.
You’re soon glad you’re looking at your phone, though, because your droomscrolling is rudely interrupting by someone calling. Luckily, It may be someone who can make this night a little better.
“Hey, Fallon,” you try to ignore the flutter in your chest. Neither you nor Fallon were looking for a relationship (work always came first, despite your differences the both of you could agree with that). Still, the oil former-baronness has never left you dissatisfied, and you liked to think the arrangement you two had outlined one fateful spring night benefitted each of you. “What can I do for you this fine evening?”
You can hear her huff angrily, and you’re sure she’s already rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”
And…?
“I’ll be at your place in thirty. Food is already ordered. Have a glass of red prepared for me when I get there.”
You smile. It’s been a tough week, something about mergers and lawyers and the HR department. You’re not really sure, you work in accounting at a different media company, but from the whispers on Slack and the texts from Fallon…it has not been her easiest week. But her call comes as no surprise—this little ritual of yours, the food, the wine, the sex…It had become an easy way for the both of you to blow off steam. It was a good, simple relationship between people who had signed enough NDAs to know what to keep private. Like a Secretary of State to her therapist, the both of you understand the nature of insider trading and the risks it poses to both of your careers.
Still, nothing was illegal about vague, wine-induced gossiping. And so vague, wine-induced gossip you two did.
Food arrives only a few minutes before Fallon does, the woman letting herself in as you plate what you know to be her order (Caeser salad, light dressing, with a medium-well steak). You hadn’t started on the win yet, though, and so she poured two glasses of a too-expensive red.
“So,” you smile just a little, a bit sadistic in how cute Fallon is when she’s annoyed. “How was work?”
Soon, both of you are full. It’s the nice kind of full that has you sleepy, content, almost drunk (that could also be the few glasses of wine you’d consumed as Fallon ranted about having to fire another assistant and HR fucking up payroll again). Her hand rests on your thigh, under the blanket but over your sweatpants. Some cheesy TV show the both of you had watched several times over plays lowly in the background, but all you can think about is the feeling of her thumb rubbing back and forth.
Fallon never seems to notice the little things she does—now, the thumb; other times, the way she buys you lunch when you don’t text her during your mandatory lunch break. The way she offers trip ideas when you haven’t taken PTO in a while. How she cares for you in her own specific way, even if that way is hidden behind eight layers of obfuscation.
“What are you thinking about?” her words cut through your high-speed train of thought easily as a knife through room-temperature butter.
“Spreadsheets,” you answer.
She snorts. “I’ve been able to tell when you’re lying since before grad school.”
You snort. “Nothing worth talking about.”
Fallon rolls her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “Whatever.” A beat. She looks you up and down, in that slow, predatory way lions scan injured zebras. “You want to go to bed?”
Both of you are creatures of habit, and so this is always how it starts. It’s a dance, a wonderful ballet, that begins with the same opening number. A disrobing behind closed doors, changing into comfy clothes and taking off jewelry. Your bed, perfectly made as always, makes itself a stage as you displace well-loved Squishmallows while Fallon scoffs about how childish they are. She tucks herself into your chest, using your forearm as a pillow, while you read on your tablet and she rubs those small circles on your tummy. You stay like that, pressed against each other, until she decides to shift herself upwards, so her breath fans across your neck. You’ll pretend to ignore her, until she nuzzles her nose just under your ear, leaving a little kiss on your neck.
Then you smile, not looking at her. She likes this dance, even if she won’t admit it. “You want something?”
Fallon hmms, her hand moving higher and higher until she’s tracing just under your breasts. “Maybe.”
That’s another thing about Fallon—she likes it when you make the first move for her. “Hmm,” you pretend to consider your options. It is then, silently, that you go in for the kill, placing your tablet to the side before shifting down to kiss her ever so lightly. Her lips are soft, always soft from her oils and scrubs and constant attention to her appearance. “This what you want?”
She furrows her brow, an adorable shade of frustration washing over her face. She’s a slow and careful predator, until something she wants is just within reach. What comes next is not a surprise, but certainly isn’t unwelcome—she climbs atop of you, abandoning any sort of subtlety as she tangles her fingers with yours and kisses you with her pillowy lips.
You know there won’t be much talking after this—moaning and begging and teasing, sure, but certainly no talking. It’s easy to follow the choreography you two had performed so many times before, dancers in each other’s arms as clothes come off and skin becomes bruised from teeth and hands. It’ll all be hidden tomorrow, but for now, both of you remain bare to the other in every way that matters.
Being with Fallon is easy in the best way; the way pleasure washes over you as she presses her fingers into you as easy as rain hits ones skin if they find themselves trapped in a thunderstorm. The only choice you have to make is to be present, to feel your fingers tangle into sheets and in her hair. To feel her tongue press against the most sensitive part of you and hum as you gasp your ever-approaching climax.
It’s a similar kind of easy to push her onto her back, to mount her while she grips your hips.
“You’re gorgeous,” she says, breathy and barely above a whisper. “Literally so gorgeous.”
All you can do is fuck yourself up and down the toy and let the heat from your abdomen travel up to your chest and cheeks. This¸ you think, as she rubs her thumb over your clit. This, is where you belong.
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Oh my goodness - I love your writing, I haven’t stopped reading your stuff over the last couple days!!
Absolutely LOVE your new perv!Eddie x camboy!Steve - it’s absolute filth and I’m living for every second of it! The whole “pretty boy is small”, it’s so different and it has me feral, I’m I’m here for it all day and I’m almost sorry. And I know you said mentioned Eddie’s size - but imagine with me for a second this idea…
He’s a ✨big boy✨. Not necessarily long, but he’s thick and he doesn’t realise he’s bigger than average because he’s inexperienced. But then when pretty boy sees it… gets all whiny cause it puts a couple of his toy to shame.
Pretty boy needs two hands to stroke all of him; jaw is aching before he’s swallowed all of him; and the stretch…. The ✨stretch✨!!!!
(Totally understand if this was not your thing, or the direction you were hoping for this fic)
PT. 1 of the camboy!steve/perv!eddie fic on ao3
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UM NO NO THIS IS ABSOLUTELY MY THING THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS IN, I WILL ACCEPT MORE OF YOUR THOUGHTS AT ANY TIME......I'M DROOLING OVER HERE JUST GIVE ME A SECOND 🤤🤤🤤
okay now that i'm more composed *clears throat* let's explore this wonderful idea of yours together :)
(also i'm so glad you said this bc i've had monstercock munson on the brain for a while now so this just really hits the ball out of the park for me)
steve's been doing this camboy gig for a while now.
it's gone pretty well for him--all things considered. he makes a decent living off of it. he likes the attention. he gets to chat with cute strangers.
receiving unwarranted dick pics in his inbox comes with the territory.
he's seen everything under the sun in terms of variation in girth, length, color, cut/uncut, piercings, tattoos, hairy, clean shaven, etc. most arrive with no message at all or something like, 'i'm so hard 4 u.'
when he first started out and was trying to amass a following, he'd respond to every single one (no matter how gross or weird the messages got).
he'd take on the bratty bottom role--that he's since mastered--and numb any part of him that might have been too disgusted to continue. replying with a short and sweet comment like:
'hmm hot, but i've had bigger down my throat.'
'looking good, handsome. do you think you could handle me?'
'i'll cockwarm you until you're crying and calling me 'mommy.' '
however, as time passed and his following grew, steve realized he didn't have to respond to all of his messages if he didn't want to.
each week, he'd scroll through his overflowing inbox, select a handful at random, have a laugh at the desperate behavior occurring on the other side of the screen, and respond with one of his pre-set templated replies before automatically deleting the rest.
that was, until he met eddie munson over a quick video-call and realized keeping his emotions separate from his job was going to be much more challenging than he'd previously anticipated.
it's a friday night. steve finished his stream a few hours ago, got thai food for dinner with his best friend--robin--at their favorite local spot, and is attempting to wind down for the evening.
but, it's no use.
he's horny. his mind is an impure palace of need. his hands trail over his chest and tease the sensitive buds of his nipples while he tries to focus on the netflix documentary he picked at random.
steve's little dick throbs in his silk pajama shorts where he lays beneath the pink sheets, tossing and turning, with only one person on his mind.
his cock's wet between his legs--head slick and dripping down his hairy thigh with all the filthy ideas of what he'd like to do to eddie munson if he ever gets the chance to meet him in person.
he has no idea what eddie's working with physically. he can only imagine what may hide behind the confines of that shredded black denim.
not that steve really cares about the size of eddie's dick. in the grand scheme of things, he likes him and that's plenty. but, it is something he wonders about from time to time. especially recently.
see--steve's thought process goes a little something like this:
if eddie's as small as he is or even smaller, so be it. he'll teach him everything he knows about pleasure, frotting, edging, and more.
if eddie's average, like he claims to be, steve won't mind. average is perfectly fine with him. he'll be easy to swallow down and impress. he'll be easy to ride in a multitude of positions.
from what steve had seen of his personality, he can't exactly imagine eddie being huge.
he's a self-proclaimed loser, halfway through his twenties and still a virgin, wears graphic t-shirts with anime characters on them and has one of those intense gamer-boy headsets.
horneir than he's been in a while, steve rolls onto his stomach and grinds into his bed to try to relieve the tension building at his core.
he grips the sides of his pillow, cutely tucks his chin into the plush softness, and mouths at the fabric while he rolls his hips in grinding circles.
steve loves making out.
he loves making out with cock even more.
mouthing over a cute boy's boxers until he just can't take it anymore and cums in his pants. steve would bet money that he could make eddie cum in his pants that way. he'd pull up his jeans for him after and make him spend the rest of the day walking around town just like that. messy, deplorable, and sticky in all the right places.
steve makes himself cum in under a minute. images of eddie whining and calling him 'mommy' in muffled tones dancing like sugar plums around his delusional head. he soaks through the silk fabric of his pajama shorts and watches as a damp spot blooms in the middle.
he giggles to himself. smiles softly.
wonders if eddie would have any interest in sucking on the soiled material while steve sucks him off...
usually, he'd go right to sleep after one round, but his cock is still aching with curiosity despite orgasming, so he lazily stretches to reach for his laptop and grabs it from the nightstand.
coincidentally, he makes the split second decision to check his inbox before navigating to his favorite porn site 'lovebunny.com.'
he's planning on just clearing out the messages as he usually does, when something catches his eye and his heart skips a beat, runs a marathon, and ends up trapped in his throat where he wants the sender's dick to be asap.
to: prettyboy86
from: ethebanished
sent at 10:53 p.m.
hey steve,
hope ur having a good night.
idk why i'm sending you this. sorry. i've never sent anything like this to anyone before. bc i'm a virgin and i've never had the opportunity, but um. here it is. my dick...if u were interested in seeing it?
it's not much. probably looks small compared to what u normally see. idk. i'm also kinda high rn and my friend gareth is in the next room and he told me not to do this, but i thought maybe u would like it?
excited for ur stream tomorrow. i tried pineapple on pizza last night bc u said it's ur favorite. not bad. i actually rlly liked it.
'night,
eddie m.
attachment: 6edf45lp.jpg
steve's throbbing.
he's got a hand--he only needs one--around the entire length of his cock and he's twisting tightly around the head as he downloads the image to his computer and waits for the file to open.
he's vocal.
he's considerably vocal.
he's tipsy off of a couple glasses of rose from dinner and he's arching his back like he does when he's on camera, but this time it's genuine.
'gonna show mommy your cock, baby?' he moans highly as the image loads and he strokes himself faster, 'that's it. that's a good boy. mommy's pussy wants to milk you dry. drink up all your big boy cum for you. oh--such a good boy for me--you can handle it. deep breaths while i make you feel good, sweet thing. almost there, hold still for mommy-'
a jumble of random pixels becomes a full picture and steve harrington is a mewling, whimpering, slutty mess.
he's fucking his hand, he's rolling his balls between his palms, he's taste testing the last batch of cum that he squirted all over the inside of his tiny pink shorts. he's rubbing it up and down his shaft like lube. shoving some in his ass with two fingers, clenching hard, and closing his eyes so he can pretend eddie munson just finished inside him. pervy little virgin would cum so quick.
the picture is fucking perfect.
eddie's standing in front of--what looks to be--a bathroom mirror. the lighting's shit, but steve can see clearly enough. his red and black checkered pants sit around his upper thighs. unzipped and tugged down--chains dangling. eddie's holding his fat dick in one hand and snapping the photo on his phone with the other.
it's huge. it's practically unreal. wider than any of the toys steve has in his collection. his own hand doesn't fit around it and it's long enough to rest a solid few inches above his belly button. steve's horny brain tells him that the slap it would make against his abdomen would probably be quite loud.
there's a vein running from the underside of his shaft to the tip and the whole thing is dusky pink like his nipples. his balls are round, perky, relatively hairless. there's a thicket of dark hair that starts at his navel and spreads out over his pelvis. his v-line is defined and there's a tattoo steve can't make out on his hip. he's biting his lip and steve can't tell if it's because he's nervous or thinks it's sexy, but it's working for him either way.
it's everything he could have ever wanted.
he's so gone. he's babbling filth and cumming onto his keyboard which is going to be a nightmare to clean up, but who cares? one of his mindless followers will buy him a new one if he complains about it loud enough with a glittery dildo up his ass.
'mommy's never taken cock that big, baby. you're gonna have to be careful, give it to me nice and slow. oh it's so fucking big,' he groans thumbing at his slit like it's a clit, hard and fast, 'mommy's gonna have to keep you away from all the other boys so no one else finds out what a fat cock you have hiding in there. mmm. if only they knew, but i'll never let them because i'm gonna trap you in my pussy and cockwarm you until you promise to be mine.'
when he cums for the final time, he kisses the screen. licks it clean and saves the picture to a folder he has labeled 'work.' the nastiest part of him wants to make it his screensaver, but if eddie ever found out, he'd likely never talk to steve or watch his stream again and he can't risk that.
'you and i are going to have so much fun together,' he says before falling asleep with his laptop on his stomach and eddie munson's cock watching over him like an angel from a very sexy realm.
thanks for reading ! feedback is greatly appreciated so please let me know what you think if you enjoyed this one 🥰
taglist (message me to be added/removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1 @disastardly @thered-thread @ilovecupcakesandtea @asbealthgn @jjoesjonas @gay-little-bitch @carlyv @vampireinthesun @mcneen @corroded-coffin-groupie @livingoutload @a-little-unsteddie @anxiouseds @perseus-notjackson @malachitedevil @shrimply-a-menace @jhrc666 @they-reap-what-we-sow @three-possums-playing-human @lordrrascal @plutoshelm @gleek4twd @arkenstoned @eiddets @stevesbipanic @bestofbucky @pinkdaisies1998 @indiearr @bunnyweasley23 @novelnovella
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screeblees · 1 year
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Yandere! Friend (to Lover)‘s Plan!
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Ahh here’s the headcannons for Yandere! Friend here !
This is some domestic! Yandere scenarios I guess, where they’ve convinced the reader to move in together and are changing from being seen as a Friend to being seen as a Lover!
Find my Masterlist here !
Please enjoy! <3
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All Yandere! Friend wants is to take You away from everything and be the only person in your life.
Yandere! Friend has long since convinced you to go along with this by letting you be involved in the fantasy, help plan it with a healthy amount of guiding and once every detail is thought of… well you wanted this too, didn’t you? We’re going to move in together and be happy forever! Far away!
The ideal place would be somewhere with fewer people, like the countryside or the highlands. Even another country altogether, with a population on the lower end so nobody would be around to bother the two of you. This way no annoying “friends” or family members would be able to stop by unannounced and interrupt Yandere! Friend’s time with you.
No matter what your job previously was before moving, Yandere! Friend insists you quit and find one that allows you to work from home. Even though they’ll try to getting one that also allows them to work from home, but they may have to occasionally go into work for a few hours. But they much prefer knowing you’re tucked away in your shared safe haven instead of out and about. Of course they know you leave sometimes, that’s what the numerous trackers are for, silly! And of course you know about them! (They wouldn’t risk you finding a hidden tracker and potentially getting upset with them.) They tell you everything, and you tell them everything! Everything. To make it fair, you also have a tracker on them so you can watch them on their way home if you really feel like it.
If they hadn’t finished snapping the line between Friend and Lover then once you both get settled into your new home, they’ll strongly cross the line. 
Yandere! Friend may begin with movie nights in bed where you two cuddle - something they’ll certainly have long since established as mandatory for an enjoyable movie night - and maybe their hands will wander a bit more than usual, resting on some more sensitive places than they had previously dared to. Maybe if they’re the big spoon they’ll let their head rest on your shoulder, maybe their mouth will happen to be open and happen to find the skin of your shoulder and neck in their mouth, and maybe they’ll leave small marks behind.
Maybe Yandere! Friend will gift you some clothing they’d love to see you in, after snooping through your wardrobe for all your different sizings. That clothing may range from something cute they knew you’d like to something more exposed that they’d just love to see you in, and maybe just the idea of you wearing something they’d bought for you made their possessive heart beat a little faster. And if they discovered some of your other tastes while snooping, well that’s just good to know for when all their planning comes to fruition.
Yandere! Friend shall insist on cooking every day and every night, perfecting all your favourite meals and just eating up your expressions every time your face lights up at the taste of their food.
When they do let you cook, Yandere! Friend is practically wrapped around you, their arms around your waist, their head against your back. And no matter what you make or the quality of it, they love that they’re eating something made by you.
If you’re on the more sociable side then Yandere! Friend will make sure to know about everyone you could come into contact with and figure out who may try and come between you two and who to allow, so they can guide you away from the threats before they even have a leg to stand on. Just like back home, only more efficient. If you’re not, well they’ll only convince you to lean into that.
Not to mention when the two of you go into town for your weekly groceries, Yandere! Friend makes it extremely obvious to the locals that you are theirs; an arm around your waist or hands holding one another, the look on their face alone when they look at you, and their expression when someone steps a little too close to you all show that you are theirs.
Of course you have your own bedrooms - officially - but in actuality you usually sleep together, I mean it’s totally by accident on your side. Yandere! Friend just has a habit of falling asleep towards the end of your nightly movie nights - usually in your bed to ensure you don’t try to quietly leave - trapping you beneath them and you just can’t bring yourself to wake them - and if you try, they’ll only mumble to you to just go to sleep - so you just turn out the lights and snuggle up as you have oh so many times before.
At some point or another, Yandere! Friend has taken the leap from friendly jokes about being a couple to outright stating that’s what you are. I mean… it’s so obvious, I can’t believe everyone doesn’t already know? People back home just don’t get it… 
The few locals who see you two together have long since come to that conclusion and once Yandere! Friend or should it now be Yandere! Friend to Lover convinced you that it’s always been this way, you’re just so silly and oblivious, then the two of you go on to be the happiest you have ever been, they somehow become even more touchy and affectionate than before. Their possessive rants and habits make you feel secure in your relationship and they’re elated that every single one of their yandere tendencies can be out in the open without judgement. From anyone.
All the while the locals think the two of you to be the cute young foreign couple who live on the very far edge of town and seem polite enough. At least they won’t be in Yandere! Friend to Lover’s way.
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dainangel · 2 years
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holiday scenarios with: ENHYPEN 🎄
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w. fluff, flirty stuff, mentions of food(?) | not proofread! | author’s note: just some cute scenarios <3 and happy holidays my loves!!!!
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yang jungwon (양정원): shopping
yall would definitely go pre-holiday shopping
like i mean early as in october
you guys both got friends and family to get gifts for
jungwon would def try to be sneaky and get gifts for you behind your back
casually just asks you to try on certain rings or bracelets (hes tryna get your sizes 🤭)
fails miserably cause you get distracted by all these bright colors and trinkets
has to watch you flail your arms in public while gasping and running off to a different store across the street
gets a little embarrassed from all the stares youve earned, but doesnt care in the end because he loves you
you two would be curious shoppers together <3
yall would def get compliments from the old asian ladies calling you guys a cute couple
“you should get married!!!” 
that causes him to turn bright red while he tries to hide his face from you
he’ll really appreciate being able to go outside in the cold with you (for shopping ofc)
sharing a scarf or him bundling you under his jacket is a must
or he just puts your hand inside his pocket, his hand intertwined with yours !!!
lee heeseung (이희승): gaming + ramyeon
gamers unite🗣️ (and ramyeon enjoyers)
he makes you guys ramyeon, trying to plate it nicely in a bowl rather than a plastic container
finds those youtube “hacks” as to how to enhance your ramyeon
a disaster is formed
he ends up spilling soup everywhere in the kitchen
somehow ends up with a noodle on his sleeve
how can you get mad at him though?
he got his bambi eyes ready to get him outta trouble 
you just sigh, giving him a kiss while removing the noodle from his sleeve 
you can feel him smiling sheepishly through the kiss
you guys sit on the soft couch together, both under a blanket after eating 
you both agree to play the switch instead of the wii
he explores your animal crossing world for a while, fishing next to you<3
tries beating up your villagers for some reason (plz help him) 
then all of a sudden its mario kart time and you are VIOLENT
he lost every round, making the excuse “im just letting you win.. you havent seen my full potential” while laughing
park jongseong (박종성): cooking
yall decided to host a holiday party: meaning when theres a party, theres a lot of prepping
jay definitely wishes he could spend this day with you another way
but he sees how happy you are cooking and decorating
he definitely volunteers to help around the house
he finds himself having more fun in the kitchen with you, though
some soft tunes are coming out of his phone (like some r&b keshi vibes ykyk)
slowly presses his chest against your back while youre slicing carrots
holds onto your waist and sways you back and forth with him
def places some warm kisses on your shoulders and neck 
you eventually hum along to the current song, giving in to his actions 
you lower your knife onto the cutting board, letting him turn you around and kiss you
he spins you around chuckling
pecks at your cheeks and forhead a lot (aka his way of showing his appreciation towards you)
“okay, okay, jay. i love you but i really need to work on this” you give him one more quick kiss
little do you know hes admiring your hardwork and the way you look under the kitchen light
sim jaeyun (심재윤): gingerbread houses
it started off with jake saying he could build a better ginger bread house than you
and he said that damn well knowing how competitive you are
which leads to your current situation
youre hands are covered in icing, so the only thing to do is to rub your hands all over jake’s face
“hey!!” hes basically giggling crazy at this point
you point at him laugjing (even wheezing bro)
an hour later, you guys both finished your gingerbread houses
so you both take the extra candies and eat them together
you also just chat about your day and have some cute moments together
jake grabs your face with one hand, opening your mouth and putting a peppermint in it
you do the same but with a gumdrop, returning the favor
he got his cheeky ass smile on now
he’d probably kiss you even with the gumdrop in his mouth (i mean whats new between yall)
but this mf still has the icing on his face so you cant take his flirty moves seriously
it looks like he just murdered someone 
you end up taking a bath with him with gingerbread scented candles burning away on the windowsill (wow how romantic)
park sunghoon (박성훈): ice skating
idc what anyone says an ice skating date is a must
youve told him multiple times youre not that good at ice skating, but hes your boyfriend so he can help you, right?
nope, because after letting go of your tight grip for a second youre stumbling like a newborn giraffe 
even with him as your personal walker, or the ice skating rink’s walker, its not working 
everytime you fall he just skates back to you elegantly, lifting you off the ground like hes some angel gaurdian that came to save you
“and who are you? do you have a girlfriend?” you say wiggling your eyebrows while he helps you up for the 34th time
he just laughs and kisses your cheeks and head in the middle of the rink (other ppl had to watch this bro 🧍‍♀️)
eventually you get the hang of it and you can glide without holding onto the wall
a lot of people end up leaving so sunghoon shows off a bit to you
mans is doing flips and spins and tricks for you girl
you just clap and yell excitedly meanwhile hes feeling all shy in front of you
somehow he didnt fall once but also looked elegant 
sunghoon skates over to you sitting on the cold ice floor, plopping down next to you
he looks a little worn out now, but doesnt mind cause all that matters is youre having fun <3 
ofc afterwards you guys get some hot coco or a hot latte to share 
kim seunwoo (김선우): bunny café
honestly i could see him being up to going to a bunny café with you
considering youve been begging him for ages
being surrounded in cute bunnies and your boyfriend sitting next to you, feeding one
youre basically in heaven
ofc you had to gossip with him there
“no way he cheated on her…” he says gasping
sunoo smiles looking at you, and blush creeps onto your cheeks
after playing for a while yall wanna eat something sweet
you both decide on getting a mint choco ice cream smoothie (btw im a mint choco lover)
the great thing about you and sunoo is, you both have the same interests making it impossible to fight
once you guys are done with the smoothie, he opens the lid and scoops out the clumped ice cream from the bottom of the cup
he feeds it to you across the table <3
meanwhile the bunnies are just at the bottom looking up (👁️👁️) wondering if its for them
after the bunny café hes super worn out and tired
so you guys go to your shared apartment and cuddle and sleep on the couch !
nishimura riki (西村 力): movie binging
movie binging nights in bed are bound to happen
not even just holiday related movies, like every movie available on netflix
you guys were watching everything from horror to like cute cartoons (rilakkuma 😭)
niki made popcorn for you and ofc you have to share with him
he acts like a child during some movies, shrieking at scary things or crying over a character dying
i feel like he’d be laying on your lap
really enjoys it when you play with his hair
niki would probably start whining if you ever pause the movie to go do something
then all of a sudden this boy wants to watch megamind 
so you obviously comply 
you dont remember finding megamind that interesting of a movie
he makes it funnier, randomly adding sound effects or comparing certain characters to his members 
“yah! jay kind of looks like megamind!” hed start laughing crazy
you could only sigh and smile
afterwards youre tired af, so you fell asleep in like 5 minutes
niki hugs you from behind, his face snuggling against your neck before he goes off to dream land <3
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i hope you guys enjoyed!! i wanted to post something for the holidays 
-xoxo,
chubbles
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