#but pls for the love of god don’t try and argue with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koqabear · 1 year

Text

love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6

“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”

yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 10.6K

warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it

smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)

Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-

Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess.

It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again.

“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”

But sometimes, he just can’t help it.

He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.

“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”

“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”

“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”

“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”

“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”

“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.

“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”

Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

MONDAY

This is it.

Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you.

He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.

He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this.

Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you.

When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him.

He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight.

Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear.

You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.

Shit, this was so embarrassing.

Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest.

The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all.

But for you, anything could change.

This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers.

Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already.

Looking back was your first mistake.

Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you.

“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself.

“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!”

“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”

You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina.

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there.

“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you.

He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.

He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern.

“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him.

“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry.

“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground.

“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him.

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in.

“For existing.”

God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word.

“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes.

“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.

Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action.

“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.”

He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them.

This was… progress.

But you’re still mad at him.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

TUESDAY

Visiting you in class was a big no.

Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.

You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway.

Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort.

He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time.

It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level.

He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you.

He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him.

But, you are a horrendously petty person.

You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.

It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes.

You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead.

After a moment, the footsteps disappeared.

It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly.

There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.

Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence.

Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s.

His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation.

Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears.

That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him.

You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself.

After a while, you hear scribbling sounds.

You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud.

Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.

Can you pls let me look at u at least?

You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time.

I miss you so so so so so much.

You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left.

That was your second mistake.

Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access.

I’m sorry.

Another paper flies over your fortress.

I’m sorry.

Then, another.

Pls forgive me.

Then another. And another, and another, and another.

Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((

You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds.

It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions.

There’s a small pile of hearts next to him.

Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance.

Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table.

Can I show u how sorry I am??

You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus.

You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions.

“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take.

Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again.

I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically.

“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out.

There goes all his progress.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

WEDNESDAY

Today has been an oddly nice day.

It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood.

A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours.

“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you!

The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.

It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief.

Yeonjun says he’s sorry.

“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!

You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.

By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.)

Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip.

Yeonjun is really sorry.

…What?

You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before.

He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache.

You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog.

Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.

“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar.

Yeonjun misses you more than anything.

The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face.

“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.

“Could you forgive him?”

“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further.

You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.

When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you.

Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.

Three ways to better communication in a relationship:

The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.

“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously.

my baby :((

stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!

my baby :((

and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!

Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated.

Choi Yeonjun.

can you pls let me talk to you instead?

You don’t bother opening the notification.

That was your third mistake.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

THURSDAY

Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends.

Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.

Well. Most of the time.

“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation.

“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.

“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?”

“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was.

“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.

“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this.

It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence.

I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ.

Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights.

“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more.

“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture.

A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course.

Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you.

Your meal was free.

The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity.

“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”

You take a second to think her question through.

Yet another mistake on your part.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

FRIDAY

Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.

You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened.

Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you.

You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will.

The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station.

“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”

You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly.

“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”

“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.”

Christ!

Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place.

“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.

You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SATURDAY

You were scared to talk to Yeonjun.

Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him.

Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?

The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.

However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.

You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it.

There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.

Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?

It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!

This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.

Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions.

Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now.

I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong.

God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved.

It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.

Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.

You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.

I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…

Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call.

“Hello?”

“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”

“Uhm, let him in then?”

“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”

“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.”

“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.”

“You need to talk to him.”

“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.

“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hope you’re not making a mistake.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SUNDAY

This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too.

Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here.

“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.

“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”

“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief.

“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”

“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!”

Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice.

“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”

You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him.

“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!”

You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess.

Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now.

“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”

“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.

“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”

Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra.

“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.

“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.”

“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”

“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…”

Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.

“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”

“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”

Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse.

“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!”

Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically.

“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”

“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”

“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move.

“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”

“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you.

“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him.

“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”

“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”

“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”

Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him.

Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you.

The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”

“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”

“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”

“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”

Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners.

“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans.

“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”

“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes.

“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully.

“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him.

“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more.

“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh.

“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it.

“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”

His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.

“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.

“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”

“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”

“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.

“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”

Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.

“Hard already?�� You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation.

“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”

Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.

His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.

“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”

“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”

He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!

“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears.

“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”

Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin.

“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”

The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.

“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.

“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”

Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired.

You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily.

“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“

Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…

You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.

This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you.

Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.

“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”

“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”

“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder.

“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”

You laugh.

“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”

“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”

A pause.

“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”

You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight.

“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.

“For you, yeah.”

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call.

“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”

(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt angst #txt fluff #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun ff #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun oneshot #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #yeonjun smut #sub yeonjun #sub txt

3K notes · View notes

cranberryjuice-posts · 7 months

Note

Hi!!!!!

I need some more protective Clarisse kind of angst in my life. Maybe something when it’s not an established relationship, but it’s obvious Clarisse wants R. But since Clarisse isn’t doing anything about it R just goes on oblivious. Until one of Clarisses brothers starts hitting on R doing the bonfire. Clarisse comes up angrily and stills R away but then reader is mad. Anger confession core pls. Feel free to make it your own. I love your writing!

- my flower -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

An - im struggling so fucking much writing fics rn 😭😭 my recent works haven’t really been the best and I’m sorry abt that I’m just having major writers block rn

Beauty was an important thing at camp. Being beautiful brought all sorts of things, from an extra s’more at the bonfire to having charmed guys around camp to do your bidding.

Charming guys wasn’t just the limit however: which is how clarisse found herself in your cabin watching you model different cut up camp shirts.

“What do You think of this one?” You asked wearing a shirt you had cut into a halter top. Posing yourself in-front of a mirror you hadn’t realized the daughter of ares over looking your curves and chest in the top.

“I think it looks just as fine as all the other shirts you showed me” she rolled her eyes leaning back on your bunk. You shot her a dirty look while mumbling something under your breath.

Taking the shirt off you tossed it in clarisses general direction. “You are the worst person to ask for clothing advice I swear”

“First of all I know a lot about clothing”

“You wear camo military pants”

After a moment clarisse threw your shirt back at you causing you to laugh. Rummaging around through a pile of cut up shirts you eventually grabbed one that was off the shoulders.

Throwing it on and looking at it critically you just shrugged your shoulders. “This is Fine i guess”

“Thank god” Clarisse complained (much to your dismay) standing up, placing a hand around your waist she gestured her hand to the door. “Now can we please go to dinner”

You shook your head following her out. Breaking free from clarisse once you arrived to the dining hall, she kept her eyes on you.

Everyone knew she liked you, everyone also knew she wouldn’t do shit to ask you out but would beat down anyone else who tried to.

——

“Clarisse” silena tilted her head while rolling her fingers on the table beside the curly haired girl. Receiving a harsh stare the daughter of Aphrodite just smiled.

Sitting down beside clarisse , she took a moment to observe how the ares kids behaved. Half the table was arguing while the other half was debating up coming camp events and how to win them, though Henry a newer member to the cabin was over at your table. Sitting beside you and well to put it bluntly, flirting with you.

Silena looked back at clarisse. Having to resist laughing as she gave a hateful glare to her brother. “Who the hell does he think he is” she muttered under her breath. “I mean honestly how does he think he even stands a chance with her” sitting up straighter clarisse scoffed.

“Maybe he’s just trying to find a relationship here at camp” silena softly teased.

“He should already know that she’s off limits though”

“Is she though? You’re not dating her”

Silena had a point. You weren’t dating but still she didn’t want anyone else to be with you. As much as clarisse wanted to love you she couldn’t, take a look at her. She was known as the camp bully, arrogant and with the amount of pressure she received from her father clarisse knew she couldn’t contain her anger well and would ultimately lash out on.. clarisse didn’t want to think about that.

“I don’t need your smart ass mouth silena” pushing her plate forwards clarisse quickly mad her way out of the table.

——

It made her sick how causally you flirted with Henry. Crossing her arms she didn’t even bother paying attention to the bonfire, rather clarisse was more focused on you.

Your laugh, your hair, you. All things she knew Henry didn’t or couldn’t appreciate like her.

Once she saw him leading you away towards the woods most likely to make out. That was her final straw.

Making her way over to where you were clarisse grabbed Henry by his shoulder and shoved him back. “For fucks sake clarisse— what’s wrong with you”

“I could ask you the same question who do you think you are flirting with my girl”

“Your Girl? Pfft as if clarisse you wish she was yours”

Quickly stepping between the siblings you tried to deescalate the situation. Placing a hand on clarisses chest with the other on Henry’s arm you were starting to tell that the woman before you wasn’t going to back down anytime soon.

The two continued their argument, throwing petty insults at eachother. You let out an aggravated sigh before grabbing clarisses Hand dragging her away.

—

Quickly finding the ares cabin, you threw the door open before forcing clarisse in. Taking a moment to collect yourself you let out a deep breath.

Finally facing clarisse you held your hand up before she could speak. “What.. the fuck is wrong with you”

“Henry was being a creep”

“Not every guy I go off with is a perv!”

“Yeah but if their from my cabin they sure as hell are!”

The argument continued to grow louder and louder. Clarisse was determined to prove she was right and you the same.

“Why do You Care if I want to make out with someone? Every time I show Interest in someone you are always on my ass”

“Because nobody actually deserves someone like you!” She moved some your way. She tried to make her stance show that she was innocent, that she was right, and it pissed you off even more

“What is that even supposed to mean” scoffing you shook your head looking away. “And why in what situation did you think it was ok to call me your girl?! We’re not dating clarisse”

“But we could be!” She shouted back. The room went quiet.

You furrowed your eyebrows confused, now realizing how close both you and clarisse were it flustered you. “Clarisse do you like me” you mumbled.

She just nodded, huffing you wrapped your arms around her. Hugging her tight you spoke into her neck. “You’re the stupidest person at the camp I swear”

Pulling back and placing a hand over her mouth to keep her from responding; you tilted your head up softly kissing your hand. “I’m going back to my cabin. And tomorrow morning I expect you to be at the door ready to ask me out got it”

She nodded her head once again. “Good” you pulled your hand back but not before patting her cheek. Leaving the ares cabin clarisse walked to her bunk in shock, with how fast everything had moved it didn’t click in her mind that she now had a girlfriend.

———

Clarisse - so do You want to go out with me

YN - no

Clarisse - oh.. I Just thoug—

Yn - yes Dummy I want to go out with you 😭😭

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

529 notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 8 months

Note

brother’s best friend!rafe is on my mind every minute of every day 😵‍💫 fucking in the most obvious places & reader is trying her absolute best to not make a sound, but rafe isn’t having it - he literally goes to POUND TOWNNN & the moans just pour out her poor mouth !!! :(

also, can i be clawdeen wolf anon? (i love monster high❤️‍🔥).

i misread the request i know i know pls

🎀🩰♡🌸୭

“i swear, you wanna get caught, don’t you? yeah, that shit gets you off, doesn’t it?” rafe pants, his dresser banging against the wall rhythmically from where you’re sat on top of it, his hips thrusting into you. he hadn’t even shut his bedroom door.

you’d been outside with sarah all day, lounging by the pool. rafe wasn’t that discreet about his attraction towards you, wandering out onto the the porch to stare you down in your little bikini. sarah had quickly shooed him away, yelling something about him being a perv which he didn’t deny — turning back around in disinterest with an eye roll, sipping his drink as he meanders back inside. but now, after you’d told her you had to grab something from your bag in her room — she’d left you to her own devices inside tannyhill.

“no! we — we can’t, i feel— mmph— feel terrible!” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he destroys your little cunt, bikini bottoms pushed to the side, toes curling at his lower back.

“really? really. ‘cos to me it seems like you feel pretty good.” he whispers, smirk threatening to twitch at his lips as he switches over to rolling his lips languidly instead of thrusting incessantly. your jaw drops, forehead falling to press to his shoulder and you watch him fuck into you, whining as quietly as your body will allow you.

“she can’t know.” you reiterate in a shameful whisper, trembling when his hand presses between you, thumbing at your clit.

“wont know unless you tell ‘er.” he pants, speeding up again chasing his own high. “hey, you’re the one that likes sneakin’ around so much maybe we should tell her huh? — oh saraaaah!” he calls fairly loudly, turning his face to the open door knowing his sister was outside, likely not to hear him.

you gasp anyway, slapping at his chest making him lose his rhythm and he chuckles boyishly, grabbing you a little tighter so you stop fighting him. “you’re fine.” he reassures, lips hovering over yours as he continues to fuck you, about to kiss you.

“the fuck do you want rafe?” sarah’s voice is suddenly not far at all, half way up the stairs and your eyes widen in panic, shoving him away and jumping off the dresser. he presses his lips together in irritation, yanking his shorts up, sure to tuck his erectjon the right way, so that it wasn’t apparent. as her footsteps draw closer to the already open door, rafe grabs you by the shoulders and stuffs you behind it — opening the door fully to conceal you. she arrives, and he comes up with some bullshit excuse, saying he didn’t need to ask her what he was going to ask before.

she asks if he’s seen you and he shrugs, probably way too exaggerated and theatrical with his mouth turned downwards.

“why the hell would i know where she is, huh?”

sarah’s eyes subconsciously glance around his room. “she said she was coming upstairs to get something from her bag. did you say something to her? it’s bad enough you stare at her all the time like a total creep, but i swear to god rafe if you said anything to—”

“the fuck are you pointing fingers for? i said i haven’t seen her.” he argues back, more convincing this time. “last time i did see her in the house, she was saying she didn’t feel too good. maybe you just missed her.” he explains slowly, calmly. you barely breathe behind the door.

the explanation wasn’t quite adding up, and sarah’s brows furrow, eyeing her older brother. he stares back, knowing if he looks away it’ll be a cause of concern. she’s distracted by his overall appearance, the usually well groomed boy stood before her a little sweaty and red in the face, hair dishevelled and stuck to his forehead.

“whats up with you?” she asks in disgust and he rolls his eyes, waving her away.

“nothing is up with m— get out of my room, go.” he walks her back and she rolls her eyes, storming away.

“i’m not in your room, idiot.”

“shutup.”

he watched her disappear before slowly closing the door, turning to you with a growing smirk.

“i’m going to hell.” you whisper.

“well until then, she thinks you’ve headed home so… guess i got you to myself for the rest of the evening.” he closes in on you, pressing your back to the door and cupping you over your bikini bottoms once more, free hand pawing at your tit. “gotta be quiet though, alright? stakes are higher now. don’t wanna ruin all the fun.”

🎀🩰♡🌸୭

#clawdeen wolf anon #rafe cameron prompt #bfb!rafe

455 notes · View notes

cosmal · 2 years

Note

Baby I’m thinking about this TikTok prank I’ve seen going around where the wife tells her husband she’s going to sleep on the couch tonight, as a prank, and all I can think of is doing that to James… imagine, imagine his reaction, all like “no!” And then “wait why?” And all sad and soft about it like what happened I’ll sleep on the couch if you want space you can have the bed … ugh

pranked

summary — you prank james. he’s way too nice.

content — james potter x fem!reader

Sirius sent you the video days ago. Viral footage of a wife telling her husband she’s sleeping on the couch for the night. He had thought it was hilarious Pls try this on james. $20 bucks he’ll cry.

You hadn’t had a proper chance until tonight. You’d had some disagreement about something so tiny, so irrelevant that you thought it was the right time. Something about rinsing out the dishes before they go in the dishwasher.

You can hear James getting ready for bed and decide to go up to your room and make a scene. He’s coming out of your ensuite, toothbrush in his mouth when he sees you pulling your pillows off the bed.

“What’re y’doing, love?” he asks over the foaming toothbrush, swallowing spit.

“Getting my stuff,” you mumble, moving to the basket by the dresser. It’s sort of foreign to be so blunt with him and for a moment you almost decide to not do it.

He takes the brush from his mouth, licking his lips to keep his spit in, “What for?”

You bundle the pillows and blankets up, “M’gonna sleep on the couch tonight.”

James leans around the corner to spit in the sink, peaking back around he says, “What?”

“I’m gonna spend the night downstairs,” you tell him again, face full of a mountain wool.

“Why?” he asks, voice all pitched up and confused.

“I just,” you stammer when he frowns, “I just need some space.”

“Oh,” he says. He steps forward and you think about stepping backwards for a moment but decide against it. You’re not cruel. “Right.”

His sad face has your stomach churning. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Wait, baby,” he says, half a tone away from frantic, “You sleep on the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

You blink. “What?”

He takes his own pillows, all stuffed up in his arms until you can’t see half of his face. You almost want to laugh. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, James—” You press your lips into a line, holding back a bubble of laughter.

“I don’t want you sleeping on the couch,” he says, half fond, half stern. “I’ll sleep down there and we can talk in the morning.”

“James, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay,” he smiles gently. You melt.

“No, it was just a joke,” you say quickly. “It’s okay, I’m not mad.”

James drops the pillows in his hands and they tumble off the bed, “A joke?”

“Yeah, I’m super sorry. Sirius sent me this video of this wife telling her husband she’s sleeping on the couch and he said I should try it.” Your words come out all mushed up and a little sticky. You hadn’t imagined him to react this way, you’re not sure why because he’s lovely and he’d do anything you him to. You imagine him sleeping in the backyard.

“Sirius?” he asks, a grin playing at the corners of his lips. They tremble and he bites the bottom one.

“Yeah,” you pant. You feel suddenly embarrassed. Your face heats and you cover your cheeks with your hands, pushing your fingers into your warming skin. “God, I’m sorry.”

James rounds the bed and you close your eyes. You can’t look him in the face. You’re not surprised when he wraps his arms around you, pinning your elbows into your chest.

“What did you expect me to do?” he asks softly. He sounds like he’s about to burst into a fit of laughter.

You shrug and your shoulder nudges his jaw. “I don’t know. I thought it’d be funny. I just feel bad now.”

“Sweetheart,” he coos. You feel even worse. Not as much so when his laughter rumbles up his chest.

“Stop.” You hide your face and mumble into his shirt.

He holds your head close, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop being so nice, you were supposed to argue with me or something.”

James laughs at your grumbling. “Since when do you listen to what Sirius shows you?”

“I don’t know. He bet me twenty you’d cry.”

“You wanted me to cry?” He asks incredulously.

“No, I wanted to win twenty quid!” You laugh, pulling yourself from his chest.

“Right,” he says grinning. He moves his hands to your face and you pray you don’t feel as warm as you did. He pushes his hands into your hair, thumbs pressing your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, James,” you say quietly. James has to bite back more laughter. It’s easy when you pout, he feels a bit sad.

“Christ, you’re adorable,” he laughs all things fond and sticky. You crumble. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It was a joke.”

“Okay,” you mumble, not very pleased.

He kisses your cheek until it apples. “Now let’s go get out twenty quid, huh?”

3K notes · View notes

honeypiehotchner · 2 years

Text

baby, please come home (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Merry early Christmas! It’s becoming a little tradition for me to write a Christmas one shot with Hotch every year. This year it’s smutty! (You’re welcome) If you don’t celebrate Christmas, Happy Holidays! And enjoy this one shot full of filth to get you through the end of the year. Love y’all mwah

Summary: Hotch has been overseas for three months and counting, and now it looks like he won’t be home in time for Christmas.

Warnings: beard!Hotch (yes that’s a warning), mention of marriage, Hotch is a (playful) asshole, smut 18+ only pls minors dni!!!, unprotected p in v (wrap it irl pls i beg), oral (m and f receiving), sleepy sex, cockwarming, lots of teasing, Hotch being pussy whipped as one of y’all said on one of my other fics 🤪

WC: ~3k

Christmas is your favorite time of year.

You have no idea why, since all your family did on Christmas was bicker and fight when you were younger. You received presents that confused you, like chocolate “coal” in your stocking and underwear under the tree (because you didn’t “believe” enough, apparently).

Somehow, through it all, you made it your own. The twinkling lights, the fun decorations, the music that you can’t ever get enough of. It’s nostalgic, for a time you never really experienced, but wanted to so badly. The happy holidays. The happy family around a warm fire.

Now that you’re older and on your own, you make it perfectly catered to you because that’s what you deserve.

This year, that means decking the hell out of the apartment. Especially since it looks like you’ll be spending it alone.

Your boyfriend — well, fiancé, except he refused to corner you into a decision right before he left to go overseas, even though you told him you didn’t feel cornered at all — can’t be here, not like he hoped. He went overseas three months ago, expecting to be back after only three weeks. But his assignment is taking longer than he expected.

Much longer, because now he won’t be here for Christmas. You’re trying not to let it tear you up inside.

It’s not like he can control his assignment. And he’s apologized — profusely — multiple times. So much so that you’ve told him to stop. He’s forgiven. It’s alright. You understand. Christmas can wait. You’ll leave the decorations up (which you do anyway) and Christmas can happen once he’s stateside again. No worries.

It does hurt, but you can’t tell him that. Again, not his fault. And he’s already worrying about so much over there. Not to mention, you only get to speak to him once a week. You’d rather spend that time focusing on good things.

You head downstairs to pick up your package, which is another box of lights. You want lights around every doorway, and around the ceiling in the living room. And a few more strands on the tree. Okay, maybe you should’ve ordered another box.

As you ascend the stairs to get back to your apartment, you think of Aaron’s face, how he’d look at you if he saw these lights. How he’d shake his head with a smile, quietly take everything from you, and hang up the lights exactly where you want them.

You wipe away a stray tear as the elevator doors open on your floor. Unlocking the apartment door, you decide the best way to get through this is blast your favorite Christmas music and put on your comfiest pajamas. Maybe some hot chocolate, too. Maybe a Christmas movie on the TV instead of music. You’re pulling out all the stops.

+++

How the Grinch Stole Christmas plays on the TV while you sip your hot chocolate, gazing around the room. You’ll need to find a chair tall enough so you can reach the ceiling.

God, if Aaron saw you standing on a chair, he’d kill you. One time, you were standing on your desk chair to reach the top shelf of your bookcase, and when Aaron walked in, he promptly wrapped his arms around your body and hoisted you down.

“This is why I’m here,” he had said. “I’m tall enough to reach these things so you don’t have to hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, but you were busy!” you argued.

“Never too busy for you, honey,” he said, grinning as he kissed you, then reached for the exact book you needed.

Before you realize it, you’re grinning too, thinking of this memory. You wish he was here. You know he wishes he could be here, too.

Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so damn important. You wish you could talk to him more than once a week, and at least Skype with him or something. All you’ve been able to do is talk to him on the satellite phone, only when he calls you, because the number changes every so often. And sometimes the calls end unexpectedly, other times he has to go (but at least gets to say goodbye), but regardless, they’re never long enough.

It’s unfair. It sounds childish, but it’s true. It’s fucking unfair.

“Ugh,” you groan, wiping angrily at your cheeks. Get it together. It’s time to decorate. Aaron will be home soon.

You have no idea when. But soon sounds better than eventually.

You set your hot chocolate down and grab the lights, getting ready to turn this place into a damn Winter Wonderland.

Halfway through the movie, you have the lights around the ceiling and are working on tearing open the next box. Next on the list are the doorways. You should have enough for the bedroom, bathroom, office, and spare room doorways. Not sure about the kitchen, though. You might need another box. Damn.

“Damn,” you say out loud when you find a knot in the strand. Huffing, you sit down on the couch to begin the detailing process. It’s always a hassle.

Especially when you have your favorite movie playing, so you keep getting distracted. Eventually, you resign to watching the screen and detangling later. You probably won’t sleep tonight anyway, so you have all night to keep decorating.

Right as your favorite part is on, there’s a knock on the front door.

You’re not expecting anyone, so you ignore it, hoping whoever it was will leave. Or got the wrong apartment, maybe.

But they knock again. Jesus. Fine.

You leave your (second) mug of hot chocolate on the kitchen counter as you make your way to the front door. You lift onto the balls of your feet, looking through the peephole, and—

“What?” you whisper to yourself, fumbling with the deadbolt and yanking the door open. “What? Aaron?”

You leap into his arms, not caring that he’s in the hallway. Who cares? He’s here. He’s home. Finally.

“Hi honey,” he whispers, close to your ear. “I missed you.”

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” you murmur, tears springing to your eyes and flowing freely. You sniffle into his neck, inhaling sharply. It’s really him.

He carries you just inside the door and shuts it, giving you both some privacy. He wraps his arms around you even tightly, exhaling. He’s needed this hug badly for weeks. Ever since he landed over there, really.

You lift your head to look at him, eyesight still blurry with tears. “You’re really you? I’m not dreaming?”

“You’re not dreaming, honey,” he says, then kisses you sweetly. “I’m here.”

“Thank god,” you breathe, pulling him back in for another kiss.

Here is when you notice his face. It’s not clean shaven like it usually is — which you understand. There isn’t exactly time for shaving overseas or even razors available to shave with, you imagine. But it’s…different.

The last time you saw him with a beard is when he had a few days off, and he didn’t shave. But that was a few days. This is…almost three months worth.

“You okay?” Aaron chuckles. You’ve just been staring at his face, with your palms cupping his cheeks.

“You have a beard.”

“I do,” he grins. “Do you like it?”

“Still deciding,” you admit. “I’m so used to you with a clean face.”

“Me too,” he says. “I’m ready to shave, if I’m honest.”

You shake your head slowly.

“No?” he raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Mm,” you pause, your mind running wild. It’s been so long since you’ve hugged him, felt him. Who can blame you for your mind venturing to…other activities. “Reasons.”

“Oh?” he bites back a smile, adjusting his arms around you, widening his legs. He knows what he’s doing. He knows what you’re doing. “What are these reasons?”

“I think you know,” you tease.

“I think you’re being shy,” he teases you right back. “C’mon,” he nods, his jaw moving underneath your palms. “What is it?”

“Just…” you pause, burying your face in his shoulder. You’re still too shy to ask for what you want, especially something like this. It feels so embarrassing.

“Take your time,” he coos. “You know you need to ask for what you want.”

“Can’t you just read my mind this once? Profile me?”

“It doesn’t work that way, sweet girl,” he says. “What is it?”

“I just missed you,” you deflect with a shrug, but nothing can hide the temperature your body has risen to. “That’s all.”

“Mhm,” he hums. “And how did you miss me?”

He’s relentless, and you hate him for it, but you love his shit-eating grin just as much.

“I missed you being inside me,” you admit. “And…” you trail away, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“And?” he presses, though he knows exactly what you mean.

“And…” you try again. “And, I missed it when you— you know. Put your…yeah.”

He laughs, fingers squeezing your hips, massaging soothing circles. “What are we going to do about you being so shy?”

“I’m trying!” you protest. You’ve never been good at wording these things. He knows you so well that you’re used to just letting him take the reins. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you, honey, I’m sorry,” he calms down, moving his hands to rub up and down on your arms. “Let’s go to bed.”

You deflate, thinking you’ve ruined the moment. “Bed?”

“Unless you’d rather I eat you out right here, yes,” he says.

You gasp. “Aaron!”

“What?” he laughs. “Come on. I’m not teasing you anymore, let’s go.”

He takes your hand and guides you down the hall to the bedroom. You sulk the entire way.

“You’re an asshole sometimes, you know,” you mutter.

He spins around and scoops you up in one swift movement, plopping you down on the bed just as quick. You squeal once you land, all of it happening so fast. He grabs a pillow and places it under your hips, and you just know this is going to be a long night.

You squirm, though, not uncomfortable by him but impatient. And awkward. It always feels weird after it’s been so long, but only because you get in your head about it. Aaron doesn’t ever make it awkward or uncomfortable. He does the opposite.

He kneels before you, tugging your pajama pants down, taking your underwear with them. He leaves gentle kisses in his wake, covering every inch of your skin until you’re practically on fire.

It’s different with the beard, obviously. A little scratchy, but good. Soft. Arousing in a way you didn’t think about.

“God, I missed this,” he says, mostly to himself as he spreads your legs.

His lips travel further, to your inner thighs and over your mound, but not where you need him. Until he covers you with his mouth in a sudden movement.

You squeak and he hisses, pulling back. “Sorry, honey, I’m— Fuck. Okay.”

“Are you okay?” you ask, mistaking his words for something else.

But when he looks up at you, your stomach flips.

“I’m okay, I’m—” he pauses to smile. “You’re so beautiful, I just— It always gets me.”

“Aaron…” you pout. How is he so sweet when he’s between your legs, with a mouth that sinful? How can honey and desire drip from the same tongue so effortlessly?

“You tell me if it’s too much,” he says. He looks wild, like he’s holding himself back with everything he’s got. “I know you’re sensitive and I might get a little carried away.”

You reach your hand down to ruffle his hair, smoothing it out before messing it up again. And tugging, pulling his head closer to your core. He smirks.

“Go ahead,” you tell him. “Please.”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. Ever.

He dips his head and covers you with his mouth, his tongue delving inside of you immediately, his favorite thing to do. It’s different with his beard, but the sensation is far more arousing than it is anything else. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans into you. He loves it when you do that, as if you have a choice. It’s almost always an involuntary reaction to his actions. He knows your body so well, even after time away.

He barely comes up for air before returning, wrapping his arms around your thighs, keeping them open. You buck your hips further into his mouth, crying out when he sucks on your clit. Your toys can’t compare to him. They’ll never measure up to his tongue. Or the way his stubble feels.

One orgasm down and he’s already chasing you toward another. Both of your hands are in his hair, holding on for dear life, and he’s nearly incoherent. Another orgasm rips through your body, leaving your legs shaking as he soothes you with gentle touches.

But it’s still not enough.

You claw at his shoulders until he gets the message and crawls up your body, face to face with you, his beard shiny with the remnants of your climax. His hair is everywhere, all your doing, and his grin is wild as he leans in to kiss you.

“Inside me,” you whine, working on kicking his pants down his legs.

He laughs as he helps you, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down. He barely has time to kick them off with his boxers before you’re gripping his hips, pulling him in. You hook your legs around him and pull him closer, making his arms falter. He feels his head brush against your core and he cusses, leaning his forehead on the bed next to you.

“Come on,” you murmur, still impatient. “I’ve missed you, please, I need you—”

“I know, I know,” he coos, lifting his head to kiss you. “I know. Let me get a—”

“We don’t have time for a damn condom, Aaron, get inside me now.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, and if he wasn’t so sweet, you’d slap the shit out of him.

“Yes, please, I’m serious, can you just— Fuck.” He pushes inside of you in one motion, giving you everything like you’ve asked, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“Better?” he asks, smirking into your neck.

You nod, whimpering, rocking your hips already, begging him to move. So he does.

There’s a certain way that Aaron moves that in unlike any other experiences you’ve had. And maybe it’s simply because he took the time — and wanted to take the time to get to know your body. Now he knows exactly what rhythm you need, whenever you need it, without you having to ask.

Though, sometimes you are impatient and you try to speed things up, the way you hook your heels together and lock him in. His only response is to do as you wish, and wrap his arms around you, between your body and the mattress, to keep you as close to his chest as possible.

“There you go,” he whispers, mouthing at your neck. In between his own heavy breaths, he quietly coaxes you toward another edge. “Let me feel you, honey, let go. You can let go.”

You’re a whimpering mess as you nod, the sensations too much after time away, and yet exactly what you needed. It isn’t long before he works you to your third orgasm, and you cling to his shoulders as you ride out the high.

You always know when he’s about to cum, the way he presses his hips impossibly close to yours, holding himself inside of you as deep as he can. You feel the telltale twitch, his breath hitches, and he collapses.

It’s been a while since he’s let go inside of you, and the consequences will be dealt with in the morning, but right now, it soothes you. Right now, it’s the warmth that you need.

+++

You fall asleep in each other’s embrace, Aaron behind you with his arm draped over you. But it isn’t long before you’re waking up to movement in the bed.

“Sorry,” he whispers into the dark. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“What’s the matter?” you ask, rolling toward him, and when you do, you feel the issue. You can’t help but giggle.

“Sorry,” Aaron sounds embarrassed. “I was just gonna get up, you go back to sleep.” He tries to move out of bed, but you grab onto his arms, pulling him back down.

You shake your head, even though he can’t see. “You’re not going anywhere when I’m right here.” Fully awake now, hungry even. You snake your hand down to his erection, smirking when he hisses as you wrap your hand around him. “I’ve missed this,” you say, moving gently. “Can I?” you don’t need to clarify what you want.

“You’re not too tired?” he asks, but you’re already pushing the covers back.

“Never,” you murmur, stretching out, your mouth now even with his pelvis. You take him into your mouth, humming contentedly. You never thought you’d miss something like this, but you missed everything about Aaron.

His moans are quiet and his hands are gentle against the back of your head, slightly pressing you down further. You don’t mind. If anything, if you were both more awake, you’d want him to hold you down.

Just when you think he’s almost reached his peak, he pulls you off of him. He says he wants to be inside you. You couldn’t think of any place better.

Slowly, with pauses to kiss you because he can’t help himself, he maneuvers you until you’re back the way you were sleeping. With him behind you, he pulls your leg up, placing a kiss behind your ear as he enters you once more.

It’s blissful. He holds you tenderly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you against him as he rocks into you.

After you both reach your highs once again, you fall asleep with Aaron still inside you. Normally he tries to move, but you know he missed you, because this time he only moves closer.

As he kisses your temple, he whispers, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #hotch smut #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x reader smut #hotch x fem!reader smut #bearded hotch

2K notes · View notes

catscidr · 9 months

Note

hi helloooo hope ure doing great !! could i pls req childe who constantly flirts with a shy reader who gets super duper flustered by it ???? childe + opposites attract + mutual pining lives rent free in my head >3>

ur in luck bc i AM indeed doing great!! mostly bc i wrote this. like oh GOD i love him he's so boyfriend agshnfga writing this made me giggle and kick my legs. was actually tweaking. im so weak for him sometimes DAMMIT ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, modern/college au, idiot in love x idiot in love, crack if you squint? childe and reader r just silly. only slightly proofread because i was too excited (sue me) includes: fem!reader, childe wc: 1k

It’s not like you didn’t want to be here, stuck between two very rowdy students cheering for their friends, because you were in the bleachers for the same reason anyways; to cheer on your own friend! But you’d prefer doing it without the constant shouts coming from the other students.

Previously, Tartaglia had insisted (read: begged) that you come watch his soccer matches, even if some were just for practice. I play better when I know you’re in the stands, he said earlier before he left you to your own thoughts, walking away to change into his uniform. It had been maybe half an hour since then and yet you couldn’t shake the conversation from your head, not when he kept meeting your gaze from the soccer field, flashing you a bright smile as he ran for the ball.

Your relationship with the redhead was a confusing one. As one of the popular students, Tartaglia naturally always had his own group of (equally popular) friends around him but, recently, he’s been hanging out with you more often. Saying something along the lines of him needing to take after you to mellow out his loud personality in comparison to your introverted one. You’d argue that it wasn’t necessary, that his energy was one of the things that drew you to him ; and as much as he likes to come up with excuses to hang out with you without you bolting in the opposite direction, you know you’ll always fall for his boyish charm, no matter how shitty his excuse is.

The sudden sound of shouts pulls you from your thoughts, a surprised yelp leaving your lips. Focusing your attention back on the field you watch as your friend gets engulfed by a group hug, the team cheering loudly- seems like in your daydream he managed to score a goal. The two guys next to you were standing up, cheering for them enthusiastically.

Overwhelmed by the sheer energy radiating from them, you focus your attention back on Tartaglia. He meets your eyes, his smile widening even further if it were possible, and waves at you energetically. You wave back sheepishly, cheeks flushed.

✧✧✧

“I told you I play better when you’re watching!” Tartaglia says with a teasing grin, lightly pushing your shoulder. You make a noise of surprise, covering it up with a cough as you raise your fist up to your mouth to hide your bashful expression. Whether he noticed the way you stiffened at his touch or not, he does a good job not showing it. “Did a whole hat trick thanks to you. Well, the soccer equivalent of it at least...” he continues sheepishly, mindlessly fiddling with the strap of his bag slung over his shoulder.

“How does that even work, anyways? Usually, people feel more pressure when there’s a crowd watching them...” you argue quietly, matching his long strides as you walked together along campus to go back to the gym changing rooms. Most people that came to watch the match had already left, however you and Tartaglia had been stuck behind due to him getting stopped by friends and acquaintances. Which worked in your favor since you disliked dealing with large crowds.

“Eh, I don’t care about other people. All I care about is having your pretty eyes on me,” he says with a wink.

Your legs stop abruptly, a flush decorating your cheeks, gaze never leaving the floor as you try to get your heart to calm down. How can he say something like that so casually? Is he messing with you because he has ulterior motives or is he-

“Heyheyhey, you doing alright over there? I didn’t break you, did I?” You hear Tartaglia calling your name, waving his hand in front of your face with a lighthearted chuckle. Pulling yourself out of your frozen state, you look up at the playful expression your friend wore, cheeks puffing out as you find yourself lacking a comeback. He notices your sullen frown and places a hand on your head, ruffling your hair playfully.

“Oh come on, don’t sulk now!” the redhead whines, “that was tame. You and I both know I’m capable of saying much worse than that,” he declares confidently, deep blue eyes looking down at you with a playful grin. A grin that seemed to never leave his face, much to your displeasure- how were you supposed to pull yourself together when he looked like the human incarnation of the sun?

“Don’t,” you mumble quietly, picking up the pace with your head hanging low, physically unable to face him anymore. Sure, you didn’t have the biggest group of friends and went out less than most people, but you were convinced he was shamelessly flirting with you. Why else would he be so close to you, relentlessly teasing you like this? Oh god, what if he’s like this with everyone? Maybe this is how he jokes around with his friends... Wait, speaking of Tartaglia, where did he-

You bump into a hard surface. Opening your eyes, you’re met with a damp soccer tee, glistening muscles and freckled skin. Tilting your head up slowly, you’re met with your crush-friend-classmate-guy looking at you with raised brows and quirked up lips. He places one hand on his hip, observing your beet red face with glee.

“I didn’t even do anything this time, princess. Everything okay?” the redhead asks with an airy chuckle. Oh god, you thought. Wish I walked into a wall instead.

“Y-Yeah. Uh huh. Everything’s just peachy,” you respond with a thumbs up, the corners of your lips curling up into what you thought was a reassuring smile but seemed more like a nervous grimace to the soccer player. He didn’t buy your excuse. Instead of leaving it as it is, Tartaglia brings a hand up to his chin and looks up, dramatically faking a thought process.

“Hmm... I wonder what you could have been so distracted by? Was it my arms? My charms? Or was it-”

“Your body odor. You reek of sweat, go shower,” you squeak out, face burning as you scurry away from the source of your (delicious) torment, your heart running a marathon beneath your ribcage all the while Tartaglia laughs loudly in the hallway, speedwalking to catch up to you.

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #childe x fem!reader #childe x afab reader #tartaglia x fem!reader #tartaglia x afab reader #linked the definition to what a hat trick is bc idk if everyone knows what that is sgfngnfs

180 notes · View notes

haechvn · 2 years

Text

Dating Shuri Udaku Headcanons

Pairing: Shuri x F!Reader

Warning: Fluff, Angst and Smutteroni

Summary/Request: pls do something that has to do with how it’s like to date shuri ! it can include fluff, angst, smut ( if you’re comfortable w that ), etc. with fem!reader <3 thank u for doing gods work !!!

Word Count: 0.87k

Author’s Note: Thank you for the request Anon! Working on multiple request simultaneously so here's one that's short and sweet. I want Shuri to be my girlfriend ong

Taglist : @melodykissess, @blackhottie25, @tonakings, @coalmistyy, @szalipcombo, @prettyluhlaiiii, @yelenabelovasgff, @callmeoncette, @clqrosmgc

Fluff

Constantly staring in your eyes as a way to let you know that she is always there and present with you.

whenever you walk into a room, she’ll grab your hands and kiss all of your knuckles will she stares into your eyes

Never lets anyone talk to you in a disrespectful manner

Puts you before anything and anybody bc you are all that she has left. You have been with her through thick and thin and she feels like her owns you all the best parts of herself

Names science experiment after you and your name nicknames she gives you

Speaking of, she loves to call you princess, my love and lover

melts when you call her kitten, i wonder why

Devote as much time as she can reminding you of your gorgeous looks on a daily basis because “Bast, how did I get so lucky with such a beauty like you. I just wanna eat you up!” Then she does.

NECK KISSES. CHEEK KISSES. SHOULDER KISSES. HAND KISSES.

She enjoys kissing you more than breathing no cap.

Loves tickling you from behind so she can kiss your neck and feel that ass on her–

Always flying you out when you feel upset or down or just because.

five star hotels, exquisite cuisine from all around the world and anything designer is yours

Shuri may be a Princess but she is definitely you sugar mommy holyshit

if you cry for any reason at all, sends $200k and spends the rest of the day with you so you can feel better

Treats you with the utmost respect and loyalty.

never has wandering eye, not that anyone else could ever get her attention

Lets you in on who she is fully and trusts you with every fiber of her being

Never puts you in harm’s way and is always by your side when you need it.

She is very precious and gentle with you. Her love feel like a warm cup of tea honestly

Dating Shuri is so fun and it’s like hanging out with your best friend all the time

Angst

Constantly having to have conversations with Shuri about how she can’t live her life in her lab if she truly values your companionship.

“Babe, I get that you need to figure out the molecular level of whatever you just said but if you miss one more date with me, you’ll have to miss me.”

which follow with her trying to argue back before realizing her faults and preceding to shower you in gift, money and that DI-

Tends to close herself when she thinks about her family for too long

Buries herself in work whenever she questions her scientific skills to try and proves herself wrong

usually leads to her forgetting to contact you to let you know how she’s doing or what she may be up to.

Punches herself if she makes you upset but she has learned a lot recently about dealing with other and has formed more mature and effective forms of communication so it’s not a big issues for the two of you

Overall pretty healthy relationship so there aren’t any actual problems that you don’t talk through

Smut

Shuri is a scientist. Which means she is always building sex toys for the two of you from scratch

She made you your own black panther suit bc she’s a horny fuck and thinks the suit would look so sexy on you.

Fucks your face with her pretty kitty until she has cum at least twice

likes making you eat her out on places that make you nervous so she can watch you freak out while your face is stuffed between her legs

She also love fucking you in her black panther suit

the same way her helmet can disappear, so does the part of her suit that hides her pussy and something about tribbing you in her suit drives her crazy

she can also sync the vibranium strap to her suit and fuck you that way if she wants as well

Off rip, the two of you would make such a sexy couple so there’s do denying that you won’t be able to keep your hands off of each other.

I feel like during sex is when she tends to use a lot of her leadership skills on you

She looking to see you shake and quiver under her just by the slightest touch

She could eat your pussy 24/7 everyday in the week. And she definitely tries to

Loves choking you but ALSO LOVES BEING CHOKED ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU ARE TOP AND RIDING SHE WANTS YOU TO TAKE CONTROL AND BE THE HERO

HAS A KINK FOR YOU CALLING HER QUEEN/HIGHNESS (that’s why she gives off daddy vibes yall!)

Would be drilling your pussy from the side almost every morning before sunrise since it is a part of her morning “Queenly duties”.

Shoves her soaking panties in your mouth if you are being too loud and she doesn't want people to come by to wake her up early

Loves spitting in your ass/pussy before devouring you then spitting it back in your mouth so you can taste the reason why she’s in love with you

Adores fucking you outside on her bedroom balcony at 3 am because it’s just you, her and the stars

2K notes · View notes

mattsfavbigtitties · 4 months

Text

Bestfriend's w/the Triplets (Headcanons)

Warnings: cussing

MASTERLIST TAGLIST

A/n: My little boos;( pls remember that my requests r open and u can ask me anything🤗

★★★★★★★★★★��★★★★

- Honestly they are prepared to be bit by you WHENEVER. Literally anywhere you four are, if you’re anywhere close to them you’ll bite them for comfort. Whether it be the arm, a shoulder, maybe a hand and/or finger, their back or could be their chest. Either it be in a comforting way or you just being a brat.

One time when y’all were at a party together and Nick and Chris went off on their own leaving you with Matt. A few minutes goes by or maybe an hour you don’t know honestly, you and Matt have been talking and laughing in a small corner of what it seems was the living room.

You slowly have started to realize how many people were cramped in the same room and moved closer to Matt for comfort. Your anxiety had started to act up and you ended up grabbing his hand and hiding behind him while biting his back shoulder.

The boys never make a scene when this type of thing happens, they usually just let it happen and talk about it later with you in the comfort of his or your home.

On the other hand, when play fighting with them you always seem to use your teeth as the winning deal. And when arguing with them you’d take their arm and bite a little hard lol or when just lazing around with them you’ll lay on their chest with random bite in between videos on the TV.

- When hanging out with them gets a bit boring you’re there to bring up the mood with silly pranks. You loved doing the ‘wiping ‘poo’ on their hand’ when on the toilet. But you favorite their reaction to when you did the fake pregnancy test on them. They were so supportive and happy to become uncles to a lil man/girly.

They honestly don’t really like when you pull the pranks, but they usually recognize it’s pretty funny when they look back and reminisce on it. And every once in a while they’ll all three get together to do one on you too.

- Kissing their cheeks ALL the time. Anytime you finally see them after a while away you immediately kiss their cheek and hug them as a greeting. You love to give secret cheek kisses to each of them. You usually switch the cuddles between them each movie night you guys do and after almost every thirty minutes it seems you kiss their cheek as a way to give affection. And the plus to that is when you really seem to catch them off guard in the most unpredictable way and they get a little red in those cheeks.

- You love telling them random facts you see on the internet. Anywhere you are and something reminds you of that certain fact you learned that earlier day, you immediately tell them about it.

One example is when Chris was talking about chainsaws(somehow) and you told them “Oh my God! This video I watched this morning said they invented chainsaws to help with childbirth in the 18th century, like if the baby got stuck they’d cut away bones and shit to make room for it.”

Another example is when you went with the triplets to the zoo and you saw the koalas. “Guys, did you know that koalas shit and fuck from the same hole? It’s crazy right?” With that Nick replies “UGH, so thankful right now that I am not a koala.”

- They LOVE having you in their videos. Whether it be a car video, just a random vlog, or a little Wednesday video. You always make everything they say more funnier than it would be without you. You make everything that’s not dirty, dirty. The fans do notice they’re more lively when you’re with them too. It’s so cute.

- Singing in a deep voice “Baby, lock the doors and turn the lights down low.” in the middle of hanging out in Nick’s room. He’d look at you with a disgusted face and shout “WHAT?”

Usually you’d sing songs they know/have heard of, but the ones they’ve never heard get them a lot because you choose the most hideous songs ever.

In the kitchen one evening trying to help Chris cook a meal(read cooking Chris a meal) you start singing a recent song you’ve been listening to. “Dear, Chasey Lain. I wrote to explain I’m your biggest fan.” Chris gives you a side eye from where he sat on the table behind you. You keep singing “I just wanted to ask, could I eat your ass? Write back as soon as you can.”

Chris’ mouth drops agape and makes a shocked gasp then screams “WHAT THE FUCK?” You snicker a bit, stirring to mac and cheese. “You’ve had a lot of dick. I’ve had a lot of time-” you bust out laughing when you finally turn to see Chris’ face.

- Most times when with the guys you use cringey pet names to make them laugh. You mostly use ‘snuffaluffagus’ and so much so that it really is their nickname. On occasion you’ll shock them with a good one, like booger or big daddy.

- One of your favorite days of the week is Saturday. Of course you like every other day too, but those Saturday nights are THE best. The guys(unfortunate for them, but fortunate for you) let you have a girly-like sleepover that one night a week.

You brought up one night how you don’t have any girl friends to do those kinds of things with and they agreed to give you the thought without reason.

They definitely would never take that back as those are the best nights(somehow) for them, but sometimes they think they regret it when you use such suspicious things on them. You usually just use cute face masks and some nail polish on them, but occasionally you’ll bring makeup and tweezers to make them ‘even more beautiful’ you’ll tell them.

TAGLIST: @riowritesitall

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

61 notes · View notes

cod-dump · 1 year

Note

pls god i will give you both my femurs for some good comfy soapghost plsplspls simon meeting johnnys fam and being simultaneously adopted bc john lets him call him johnny and no one else is ever allowed to call him that, bc soap told them how he’s always got a mask on but here he is meeting them without the mask PLS I WILL BEG

MacTavish

Part 1

SoapGhost

(I attempted to write a Scottish accent in this. I tried 🥲)

___

Ghost underestimated how much Soap talked about him to his family. Even before they started dating Soap was gushing about his very attractive lieutenant. Ghost learned that because Soap’s elder sister was bringing up everything and anything to embarrass her brother in front of his boyfriend.

Ghost wasn’t sure about meeting Soap’s whole family. Meeting his sister was already nerve wracking and she greeted him with a hug. She was a tall woman, taller than Soap. Maybe an inch shorter than Ghost without the heels. That was his guess. She was practically the female version of Soap, except taller. When her eyes met Ghost’s he felt himself start to sweat.

“I wasn’t too sure when my baby brother said he was dating a Brit. But now looking at you? I can see why he jumped on you when he had the chance.”

Soap is mortified as Ghost blinks in shock.

“EVE WHY!?”

The woman laughed, poking her brother’s forehead, “Oh come on! You never brought any of your boyfriends home! I have to make up for all those years of embarrassment you deprived me of!”

Ghost had a brief relationship with his brother. This relationship that Soap had with his sister showed they had years of trust and love between them. Something that Ghost never had. Watching Soap try to grab Eve while she held him back by simply putting her hand on his forehead and pushing away— It made Ghost realize how much he missed out in the sibling department.

Going out to eat with Eve wasn’t as bad as Ghost thought it would be. She stopped being so intimidating when she started sharing things about Soap that Ghost may have or haven't already known about. Still, Soap still tried to argue with her on everything she said.

“—not to mention that you always deflect serious conversations with stupid jokes.”

“I do not!”

Ghost laughs, “Sorry, Johnny. She’s right about that.”

The mood at the table suddenly changed. Eve’s eyes widen before she turned her head and gave Soap the most deadly glare. Soap pales, focusing on his food. Ghost looks between them, wondering if he said something wrong.

“Johnny?”

“Eve-“

“No, you let him call you Johnny? John Hamish MacTavish, since when do you let anyone call you Johnny?!”

Ghost blinks, “He doesn’t let you call him Johnny?”

“No!”

Soap was covering his face, groaning, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal! You always fought anyone you tried to call you that! Pa, Ma, me, Carol—“

“Please… Eve-“

Eve pulls out her phone and Soap gaps before trying to grab it from her, “No!”

“Everyone in the MacTavish family is going to hear about this!”

Soap wasn’t able to stop her. Eve laughed victoriously when the text sent out, turning to Soap who looked like he wanted to die. By the end of the night when they left the restaurant, Soap hung back to talk to Eve. Ghost was sitting anxiously in the car, watching them talk. Soap got in the car and groaned loudly.

“Sorry…”

“About what?”

“Calling you Johnny in front of her.”

Soap takes Ghost’s hand, “She was bound to find out.”

“You seem pretty upset about it.”

Soap laughs, “I’m upset that my sister has already called you her favorite brother. I’m her only brother!”

Ghost can’t help but smile, “She likes me that much?”

“She loves you. God… Christmas is going to be a mess… if you come…”

“Why wouldn’t I come?”

“My family can be overwhelming. It might be too much for you and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Johnny, I’m going. It would be rude to ignore your parents’ invitation.”

Soap smiles and leans over and kisses Ghost later that night as they laid in bed Soap was getting bombarded with texts and phone calls. Ghost didn’t think something as little as a pet name would be the cause of this. Soap had to put his phone on ‘do not disturb’ before hugging Ghost.

“I think ignoring it might make it worse…”

“Maybe. Don’t care.”

Soap kisses Ghost, the man melting against him as they got comfortable in bed.

Christmas came sooner than what Ghost was prepared for. It felt like he just blinked and Christmas was around the corner. He was nervous as he packed, getting ready for their flight to Scotland. Soap was excited, talking about his hometown and how he couldn’t wait to show Ghost where he grew up.

He guess he was too quiet because Soap stopped talking and walked over to him. He was trying to fold a shirt but he was shaking so bad that he kept wadding it up. Soap took the shirt from him, making Ghost turn to look at him.

“Baby, are you sure you want to go? They will understand if you choose to stay behind.”

“I’m fine! Just nervous.”

Soap puts the shirt down and hugs Ghost, “I get it. But I promise they’re going to love you.”

“I hope you’re right…”

“When have I ever been wrong?”

Ghost stares blankly at Soap. Soap bites his lip and picks the shirt back up, folding it.

“Don’t answer that.”

They finished packing, deciding to watch a movie before heading to bed. Ghost tried staying focused but he was so nervous about fucking up and doing something to make Soap’s family not like him. He’s only ever met the family of a ex-partner once before and that didn’t go well. To be far that boyfriend wasn’t out of the closet and Ghost was visiting as just a friend before his boyfriend’s cousin outed him. That was a bad experience and they broke up a couple days after.

Ghost knew that Soap’s family knew about his sexuality, they knew he was dating a man. But what if it was just mild tolerance rather than acceptance?

“You’re thinking pretty loud.”

Ghost blinks and turns to look at Soap. He had paused their movie and was looking at him with concern. He didn’t even have to say anything and Soap knew what was worrying him.

“They’re going to love you, love.”

“What if they don’t?”

“Si, I know my family. They’re going to take one look at you and then you won’t be able to get rid of them.”

Ghost sighs, “That fast?”

“Oh yea. Should’ve seen them when Carol introduced her husband. Poor guy wasn’t able to even go to the bathroom without someone bothering him. The only person that didn’t like him was my dad but that guy can look at a puppy and scoff.”

Ghost winces, “So I have to worry about your dad?”

Soap rubs the back of his neck, "No?"

"Johnny..."

"Fine, guy can be a bit... Protective. When Carol introduced her husband he wasn’t too happy about the guy already proposing to her without asking for his blessing. He’s old school like that.”

Ghost doesn’t say anything and Soap tries to smooth things over.

“He doesn’t like people that quick! It’s nothing personal he’s just like that. Always has been.”

Ghost looks at Soap and he leans over and kisses him, “He will certainly learn to like you way faster than Oliver.”

Ghost smiles to ease Soap even though he wasn’t convinced. They finished their movie and went to bed, but Ghost wasn’t able to fall asleep that night. When their alarm went off he was still awake and groaned. He was dead on his feet as they checked their luggage before heading out the door to leave for the airport. They had gotten a early morning flight because Soap wanted to spend as much time as possible while back home.

On the car ride Soap noticed Ghost lounging in his seat, eyes barely open.

“Oh, baby. Maybe you can take a nap on the plane ride?”

“I doubt I’ll get much sleep on a flight that is barely over an hour.”

“Still better than nothing.”

Ghost sighs, knowing that his anxiety will keep him from even getting an house of sleep. The flight was rather uneventful and Soap gave him his earbuds to listen to music so he could try to sleep. Ghost thinks he slept for thirty minutes before they landed. Seeing how excited Soap was made him keep pushing, not wanting to ruin his boyfriend’s experience of coming back home after being gone for so long.

When they walked out of the airport Eve was there. She got out of her car and ran over, hugging Ghost before hugging Soap.

“What the hell, Eve?”

“What? I hug people in the order in which I like them.”

Soap gasps and Ghost couldn’t help but preen. She helped pack their luggage in her trunk before Ghost got in the backseat. She frowned in a cartoonish manner when he did this.

“I was hoping to not have to share the front with this loser.”

Soap glares at his sister with the fury of a thousand suns. Ghost chuckles as they get in the car bickering about something. Ghost ended up falling asleep again. It wasn’t a deep sleep but it was a better nap than what he got on the plane ride. He woke when they came to stop, seeing that they were in a town. Soap and Eve were talking lowly, probably to prevent from waking him.

“I’m sure you talked to him about Pa…”

“A little bit?”

“John…”

“I was worried about scaring him. He’s already nervous about meeting everyone.”

“I doubt hiding how Pa is will help.”

Ghost made a noise and pretended to be just waking up. Soap turns his head and smiles at him.

“Hey, baby. Welcome to Glencolm! The place where I grew up.”

Ghost sits straighter in his seat to look at the town as they drove through.

“Farkirk Café?”

“Has the best burgers in the world. I have not had a burger as good as the one’s that ol’ Kenzi makes.”

Ghost makes a mental note of the place. They ended up driving a few kilometers out of town. They came to a big homestead, several cars already pulled alongside the driveway. Ghost saw some kids playing around the house. They paid no mind to them until they saw Ghost get out of the car, a couple boys running inside afterwards. Ghost’s anxiety immediately picked up, grabbing his luggage from the trunk along with Soap’s.

“I can get my own bag, Si.”

Soap is suddenly tackles by two girls. He caught himself on the car, laughing when he sees who jumped on him.

“Aye, look who it is! Two of the most beautiful girls in the world!”

He goes to grab them but they squeal and dodge him, running to Eve. They hide behind her, giggling as Soap stalked after them. Eve rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Mina, Ellie.”

The girls stood at attention, looking up at Eve. She makes a shooing motion at them.

“Go get your father.”

“Yes, Mama.”

They take off, giggling the whole way. Ghost’s heart ached at the innocence, they reminded him of Joseph.

“They’ve gotten so big!”

Eve let’s out a deep breath, “Tell me about it! Soon they’ll be dating! And you know I’ll have to kill whoever breaks their hearts!”

Eve and Soap start to move towards the house, Ghost following closely. The closer they got to the house, the harder his heart would beat. A man opens the front door, taking Eve’s hands immediately and pulling her in for a kiss. He then turns to Soap and pulls him in for a hug.

“John!”

“Hey, Jay!”

Ghost notes the man’s faint Welsh accent that mixed with a Scottish one.

The man looks at Ghost and looks him over before offering a hand, “Hello, you must be Simon.”

Ghost puts down a bag and takes the man’s hand. He could tell Jay was trying not to stare at his scarred face or hands. But Ghost recognized the curiosity and slight horror. He tries to ignore it as Jay and Eve welcome them inside. As soon as that door closed Ghost felt trapped. He wish he was wearing a mask but he knows that would’ve brought up questions. Jay reaches for the bags Ghost had.

“I can take those to your room.”

Ghost goes to protest but Soap takes his hand, “Let him. Ma would have a fit if we didn’t immediately go see her.”

Eve laughs, “She would. Hun, where is Ma?”

“In the kitchen.”

Soap starts to drag Ghost through the house. He tried to look around but Soap wasn’t giving him any time to do so. They walk into a big kitchen, two women talking over some tea. One turned and Ghost knew that was Soap’s mother. Eve and Soap looked just like her. The small woman smiles broadly and walks over, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Oh, my baby boy! Let me look at ya!”

She holds Soap by his shoulders and pushes him away at arm’s length, looking him over before she grabs him by his face.

“Ah missed ya so much!”

“Ma, I was here for Easter!”

She waves her hand dismissively, “Like that matters.”

She looks past Soap and straight at Ghost. He tensed as she studied him, unreadable. Then she smiles warmly and moves past Soap, taking his hands.

“Ye must be Simon.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She laughs, “No need for such formalities. Ye can just call me Muriel.”

She looks over Ghost, pulling away and looking to Soap.

“Ya got yerself a looker!”

Ghost blushes as Soap shakes his head, “Ma…”

She ignores Soap and looks back to Ghost. She hooks an arm with his and leads him to the kitchen island. The other woman finally speaks.

“Ah see that yer just gonna ignore me!”

Soap laughs, “Sorry, Carol!”

Soap walks over and the woman glares at him but it melts away and she reaches out, pulling Soap into a hug.

“Good to see ya, little brother.”

Carol turns to Ghost and looks him over before turning back to Soap.

“Did ya see the biggest guy in the force and decide thats yer man?”

Soap smacks her shoulder as she laughs, “What? Ye always had a thing fur big guys!”

Ghost looked away as the two start to bicker, Carol walking out of the room with Soap chasing after her. Muriel shakes her head before grabbing Ghost’s attention with a gentle tap to his arm.

“Would ya like some tea, dear?”

“Yes I would.”

“Ah’ll get ya some then. How do ya like it?”

“Just a lot of sugar added to it.”

Muriel walks over to the kettle which still had hot water in it. Ghost looks around the kitchen, unsure what to do without Soap there. Ghost looks at the decorations in the kitchen. There was some porcelain farm animals in the window sill. A woman walks into the room, groaning.

“Ma, Jacky just threw up.”

Muriel turns around, “Oh no! Where is he?”

“In the family room.”

Muriel rushes out of the kitchen, leaving Ghost alone with the woman. She was short, had reddish brown hair and blue eyes. Her face was round and she had light freckles. She studies him like she was trying to figure out who he was.

“Ah’m sorry, who are ya?”

“I’m Simon, John’s boyfriend.”

Her eyes widen before she rushes forward and hugs him tightly. Ghost tenses, not expecting her to hug him. She pulls away and is holding him by the shoulders.

“Yer not what Ah was expectin’! Much more… handsome.”

Ghost flushes as the woman steps back and clears her throat before offering her hand.

“Hello, Ah’m Andy. John’s big sister.”

Ghost takes her hand, “Nice to meet you.”

Soap walks into the kitchen, “Sorry about running off Si-“

He freezes when he sees Andy. Unlike everyone else he’s seen, he seemed to put his guard up.

“Andrea… I didn’t know you would be here.”

“That makes two of us,” She looks at Ghost, “Where did ya find this big guy?”

Ghost felt uncomfortable as she looked at him. He also didn’t like how Soap was acting. Soap glares and steps forward, getting between her and Ghost.

“Military.”

“Huh. Maybe Ah should join. Get me a big guy.”

She starts to leave the kitchen, flashing a smile at Ghost, “Good ta meet ya, Simon.”

She leaves and Soap turns to Ghost after a minute, seemingly making sure she was gone.

“What was that?”

Soap blinks, “What was what?”

“Hey! John! Simon! Pa’s comin’ in from the garage!”

Soap jumps up, “Oh shi— C’mon, babe!”

Soap grabs Ghost and drags him out of the kitchen and through the halls. They come to be big open room with a couch and loveseat. Ghost assumed it was the family room. There are a couple kids running around but they see Ghost and run upstairs. There’s an old woman, maybe Soap’s grandmother, and a woman that looked around the same age as Muriel. On the loveseat was a man with black hair and eyes. He looked at Ghost and immediately looked away when Ghost turned his attention onto him.

He looks to the big sliding doors as they open, and his heart picked up speed when a mountain of a man came through. He had a light tan, red hair and blue eyes. Ghost realized this man was taller than him. Soap walked up the man with a grin. Before he can say anything the man grabs Soap and pulls him into what looked like a bone crushing hug.

“My boy! How are ya?!”

Soap wiggles free from the man, “Fine, Pa! Hey, I want you to meet Simon!”

The man’s gaze turns to Ghost and it was ice cold. Ghost could feel the judgment as the man walks over, definitely sizing him up. Ghost has faced hordes of enemies head on, has almost diex multiple times. But for some reason, this man was the most terrifying thing he has ever faced.

“Yer the fella my boy’s been gushin’ ‘bout?”

“Yes, sir.”

While Ghost addressed Muriel as ‘ma’am’ out of respect, calling Soap’s father ‘sir’ felt like a necessity for survival. He holds out a hand to Ghost who grabs it.

“Hmm… firm hand ya got there.”

Ghost could tell the man wasn’t looking for a reply. Soap groans and grabs his father’s arm.

“Pa—“

The old woman speaks up, “Isaiah. Stop foolin’ ‘round. He’s a fine young man.”

Soap turns to the woman, “Thank you, Gran!”

Isaiah rolls his eyes before backing off. Muriel comes into the family room with a little boy in her arms. Isaiah’s attitude instantly changes. He smiles and walks over to her, placing a loving kiss on her head. Soap walks over to his grandmother and sits next to her before motioning Ghost to come sit. The other woman around Muriel and Isaiah’s age smiles at him.

“Don’t let that eejit scare ya.”

Ghost looks to her and she pats his shoulder, “I’m Miranda, John’s aunt and Muriel’s sister.”

“Simon.”

“Well, welcome to the MacTavish home.”

Ghost smiles but he looks ahead of him, feeling Isaiah’s heavy gaze on him. Hell, he felt like he was in a war zone.

___

#call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghostsoap #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #fic #fanfic #mactavish

415 notes · View notes

writinandcrying · 9 months

Text

TMNT ONE SHOT - Holiday Season - A Special gift

Christmas was not your favorite holiday, at least you had a mutant turtle to help out in this trying times (GN READER, Tw: dysfunctional family, arguments and bickering related to food, crying mentioned)

Fluff - makeout / first kiss with *insert turtle you like* after a shitty xmas (English isn’t my first language and I didn’t proof read this 😗✌️, pls don’t hesitante to correct me if you see something off putting, I hope you guys still like it!)

You climb up the last steps of the fire scape connecting the roof top of your building, dragging your feet as you groan one last time, it’s impressive you can hear your relatives arguing several stores bellow, you have lost count how many times people can pick on each other on their free will. You drag your hands along your face and sigh, you want nothing more but to distance yourself from that.

You didn’t get to feel much of The “Christmas spirit” everyone seem to love and cherish since you left your childhood years, and it seems that every year you learn to dislike December a little bit more. As much as The Grinch was deeply relatable for you lately, you didn’t want it to be, having a dysfunctional family in such a tender Holiday was kinda like receiving punch in the gut every day until 25th of December died out. After the first 10, the warm smiles and happy wishes over a great season seem to constantly mock your misery, leaving you bitter and resentful.

Leaning over the edge of your building, you check the many light up windows and different narratives playing along on your neighborhood, a family all gathered up taking a picture by their decorated tree on the left, you let a chuckle out by thrilled parents filming a rather young child by your right, to what it seems taking their first steps by their excitement.

it was nice seeing different kind of life’s playing along the fairy lights on the streets bellow, secretly wishing yours would be a little bit like theirs, reality seems distant as you accidentally disassociate, thinking how -your- family would be seen compared to those merry ones, your parents resentment growing against each other every minute, barking mean comments left and right to you messing apparently everything up. The perfect picture of a broken home. Awful to see, awful to be part of.

You sigh as you recall what drove you to the edge moments ago, a silly comment really, it was so small compared to the constant bickering around the whole month of December, but picking on you eating a single cookie? That you made? You spent the whole day cooking. The whole day trying to have a good Christmas, you can feel yourself fuming as you remember how much you have worked your ass off the whole month for their presents, for a good Christmas dinner, as they wouldnt even buy a single pair of sock for you. Give you a single “thank you” for all of your efforts, You tried, you really did, Despite all the odds against your favor, you still tried, when you finally decide you give yourself a taste of your hard work, your family dares to give you shit about your eating habits? No. Nuh uh.

That was the last drop. You marched to your room as you heard someone giving you shit one last time after harshly dropping the plate on the dining table. knew you would be screwed when they found out you were gone, no amount of locks would keep them at bay for longer than 2 to 3 hours. But god, you needed a time out. Yes, you would rather freeze your butt on a dirty and frozen roof top than to listen to another passive aggressive bullshit comment.

“you have been hiding here all this time?” A familiar voice fills out of the foggyness of your thoughts, your head turns around slightly, watching a well known silhouette marvelously shining through the moonlight “nobody’s seen you in days” his tone isn’t harsh or accusative, you can almost hear a incredulous chuckle out of him, he speaks lightly, curious to your whereabouts, you can also hear him landing near the regular rooftop entrance, you stare once again to the uncountable windows and buildings in front of you.

He waits for you to retaliate, reply with witty comeback, flash him an apologetic smile, anything, but silence wins you over. He knew something was up when you were this quiet, your family would be the main topic when you vanished like that, he also knew you needed space to deal with such matter, in due time, you would ask for comfort, you would seek for his presence, just like when he comes to you, yet this time it never came, you never came. The ninja turtle slowly leans over, trailing his eyes ahead as you do.

A sniff catches him off guard, he knows it shouldnt, but it does, he glances at you to finally see your glossy eyes staring ahead, a blush covering your cheeks and nose; You look adorable, sad, disappointed, frustrated, but still can’t help but to find you adorable, his hearts stings as you rapidly catch a sneaky tear roll down your cheek, turning your back at him before he can catch you in this arms.

“Didn’t want to bother.” your voice comes out more shaky than you would like, a bit hoarse due to the current season, you rub your hands together, if he questioned about your well being, you could just blame it on the cold weather,on the perfect snowflakes falling above you two.

“You could never bother” he trails along slowly, weary as if you were a scared cat, afraid that any hasty movement could make you dash “how about we go to the lair? Everyone misses you.” he gently places a hand on your back, “I miss you” he ponders, moving slowly to be by your side, your eyes don’t meet his, he wants to lean down, he wants your eyes locked on his, he wants you to trust him as much as he trusts you, he wants nothing more but to hold you close and kiss your sorrows and tears away.

he stays put instead, waiting on your call.

You instinctively turns towards him, his warmth drawing you in, you want to smile, to tell him over and over that eveything is fine, you were just busy, he doesn’t have to worry.

Instead your mouth is pressed in a tight line, you can feel your lips trembling when you try to speak, you know words will come out wobbly, and for the first time, you won’t be able to hold back tears in front of him. This is pathetic. You think, you want to be at the lair. You want to be near them, but how can you explain you can’t bare to see their love, brotherhood and companionship tonight? You can’t feel part of it? This night isn’t about you, it has never been and it will never will be, you just get used to it.

You look up; your thoughts swimming through your eyes, you open and close your mouth, how do you explain you crave affection, but can’t seem to bear it?

The turtle holds you in a swift movement, carrying you with ease, gently but still firmly holding you against his plastron in princess style, the familiar adrenaline rushes trough you as you can feel him jumping from roof top to roof top, you don’t have words to question him, astoundingly admiring him as you stare at his focused face facing the horizon ahead.

You close your eyes for a moment, learning your face over the valley of his neck and collarbone, in a blink of an eye, songs, chatter and laughter fills the air and you remember you are in New York , the most magical city to be this time of year. Yes, you had probably the crappiest month of your life, but for a moment, you let yourself drift away in bliss, focusing on sounds and passing colorful lights.

He settles both you on a empty office balcony, everything is dark inside accept for the faint lights on a very worn out tree looking back at you, you check your own reflection, your eyes are red and puffy, your hair is uneven, and there are millions of colors shining behind you.

The Rockefeller was the most iconic place all over New York during Christmas time, slowly turning around, the tree and it’s surroundings leaving you both speechless, you loved Christmas lights, it was impressive to say the least how the decorations were absolutely ethereal. ever so slowly, you both sit down and admire the virw quietly.

“You don’t have to deal with everything on your own” is the first line he graces you, you wanna laugh with that alone, look who’s talking you think over, but you can’t say it, you know he is right, he chuckles as if he could read your mind, he gently tilts your head upwards “next time, call me. Text me. Reach out, for goddess sake.” He smiles at you, you let out a huff, smiling shyly “you have so much on your plate already, I just, I didn’t-“

“You deserve so much better” he shakes his head, lips pressed in a thin line. Over many years of his life, he has thought he had too little and humans had absolutely everything on top side, it was unfair and left a sour taste over his mouth. you have shown him that kind of thought was childish, he had a family, he had people he could count on, that’s alone is a lot more than what many people have, He can’t take that fact for granted anymore.

He also knew your biggest wish was to be part of something like that, his biggest wish was to make you feel part of it, maybe even something more.

You shyly lace your pinky with one of his fingers, ducking away as you felt your face burning under his deep gaze, you were so appreciative of his family, of him, of his patience and dedication, to say you have a crush on the turtle was an understatement, everything the he did made your heart skip a beat, the way he would always seek out for you during hangouts, how he cared for your preferences and well being, you found yourself unable to look away when he was training, when he would laughs so care freely, when he gets lost on his interests and everything seems to slow down around the both of you. You rest your head gently over his shoulder, you know you can get lost in his eyes quickly, you bite your lip when you think of his, and how heavenly it would feel against yours.

“It’s alright..” that what you manage to come up with, it’s cheap and it’s empty, but you don’t know what else to say. “No it’s not.” He says it firmly, interlocking your fingers tightly to prove his point.

Sometimes, you swear he feels the same as you do, you swear you can catch a soft longing from him across the dinging table, across the dojo over self defense training, short glances that are filled with unspoken words, that the innocent touches are not so innocent anymore. but life has taught you not to hang on those wishes, not to have hope. It was hurtful to do so.

“why do you care?” you let a frustrated sigh out, you hate how you just asked that the moment the words left your mouth, you aren’t frustrated at him per say, more towards your feelings, at how clammy your hands feel around his, how fast your heart is beating, how you secretly hope he knows that you didn’t mean to let that question out, how much of a chicken you were, how you fought annoying daydreaming scenarios with him on daily basis and yet just wish he kissed you already.

“Because I do.” he makes you look at him again, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, and for the first time tonight, you look at him, you really look at him, how he is breathing fast, how dilated his pupils are when he looks at you, how his thumb drags temptingly over the bottom of your lips, letting out a shaky breath as he squeezes your hand one last time.

“because I just do.” His gaze is locked in yours, pleading, full of what you have denied yourself for years, telling eveything you have ever wanted without any words. He was yours, and you are his.

you finally tell yourself fuck it and kiss him.

It’s desperate, it’s passionate, it’s eveything you want and more, you drag your nails on the nape of his neck and draws him into your space, your chest hits is plastron as he grips your hips as he pins you down against the ground, the way you hook one of your leg on top of his shell drives out a moan out of him, making you arch your back, you nibble his bottom lip as you swear you gonna lose your mind.

You don’t know how long has passed, your grip on him is as strong as his as you lay beneath him, you makeout until you are both out of breath, until the anger and frustration has been worn out and you two slowly melt together, once fervent kisses turns into soft, gentle ones, until you are both looking at each other, smiling and giving pecks between giggles, translating eveything you have both been feeling towards each other

“Goddamn.” he draws a hearty laugh out of both you, the turtle rests is forehead against yours, sighing dreamily, giving you feather light kisses on your cheeks as you pull him closer.

“I care a lot about you too.” you drunkly smile to him, caressing his cheeks tenderly, “I sure hope so.” you hook your arms around his neck, laughing at his antics.

“I gotta tell you something tho.” you tilt your head curiously, he looks down at your lips, licking instinctively as you bite yours.

“you surprisingly taste like gingerbread cookies”

That makes you giggle once more.

——————————————————————————

It’s 3 am and Idk how to finish so hopefully the end it’s not too abrupt *confetti sounds* 🎉 let me know if you guys liked it!

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #giulia writes #tmnt headcanons #tmnt 2007 #tmnt raph #tmnt mikey #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2003 #tmnt donatello #tmnt fandom #tmnt bayverse turtles x reader #tmnt bayverse

89 notes · View notes

cranberryjuice-posts · 7 months

Note

Hiiiii! I love your clarisse stuff!!!! Can you pleaseeee do a fic where Clarisse says something mean to R and they get upset so Clarisse goes to comfort them!!! You’re free to make it your own. i love your writingggg!

- don’t say I’m to much -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Girly! Reader

An - guys send me more clarisse FIC ideas but also request Abby to pretty please

An Pt 2 - this lowkey sucked ass bc I was distracted while writing it but yall will live

Sitting by the bonfire, Clarisse beside and the comforting atmosphere brought you a sense of comfort. Clarisses Hands found themselves under your tanktop, rubbing the small of your back as you continued to sing with everyone else.

“What are You doing” You giggled once the song ended, looking up at clarisse with a dumb smile. “I’m keeping my hands warm”

“There’s a fire right there”

“This was is warmer though”

Laughing some you tilted your head up just to give her a kiss. Most nights clarisse wasn’t this clingy but on a special occasions she preferred to have you close to her.

After a few moment you had noticed a long forgotten face across the fire. One of your first friends at camp was a son of Hermes names Logan “Oh my gods Logan!” You excitedly yelled.

Giving a kiss goodbye to clarisse you quickly ran to the blonde tackling him in a hug. Clasisse knew you were close with the son of hermes but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

Watching during your conversation with him, his hands rubbed your waist and hips which rubbed her the wrong way. What finally set her off however was the sheer audacity this man had to slide his hands under your shirt but to also peek at your showing cleavage.

Without realizing it clarisse got up and walked towards where you two stood— away from the fire.

“Oh! This is my girlfriend clarisse” You happily introduced the girl, quickly being cut off though as she decked him in the nose making the boy fall over, blood dripping down his face.

Standing in shock you turn led to clarisse yelling at her “what is wrong with you!”

“He was being a creep am I not allowed to defend you anymore” she scoffed trying to play off the entire situation.

The campers around the fire went quiet, turning to watch what had just happened. The Apollo and a few hermes kids ran over worried.

Watching as they helped the boy to the infirmary clarisse tried to grab your arm only for you to push her off of you and walk away. “Babe wait!” Clarisse yelled after you.

Once at your cabin you stumbled to open the door giving clarisse just enough time to catch up. “What’s wrong”

“What’s wrong?! Your seriously asking me what’s wrong? Clarisse you just decked my best friend!” You spoke louder than you should of.

“Well excuse me for protecting my girlfriend from a Fucking Creep”

“He’s not a creep!” Both of you yelling at each-other to the point that your voice had broke. “I don’t need you to beat the shit out of ever guy who looks at me wrong”

“Well maybe if you didn’t dress like a fucking slut all the time then I wouldn’t have to.!”

Clarizse knew she had fucked up as soon as she said it. “Wait pl—“ you finally managed yo get the door open, slamming it in her face.

In her cabin That Night all of her siblings knew to just leave her alone, especially with a few new holes in the wall none of them wanted to face her anger.

——

You couldn’t sleep. The thought of clarisse calling you a slut replayed constantly. Did she really think that low of you..

Shaking that thought out of your mind you went upstairs. Going to the balcony all you wanted right now was some fresh air. However what. You didn’t expect to see was clarisse lifting herself up and over the wooden railing. You both made awkward eyecontact

Crossing your arms you looked her up and down. “Go”

“Wait please” clarisse grunted finally getting over the railing and walking towards you, grabbing your arm she turned you around. “Please just five minutes, no arguing no yelling… Ill just talk, I won’t say something that I’ll regret please I’m just asking for five minutes.” Her tone breathless most likely from the climb up

Being with clarisse for as long as you’ve been not once have you seen her act this vulnerable.. nodding your head slowly you relaxed letting clarisse speak. “Im sorry.. im so so sorry… your not a slut I should of never yelled that to you I just, I got mad.. Logan had his hands under your shirt and he was blatantly looking at your cleavage and it’s not that I don’t like you wearing revealing clothes I do I just..I don’t like seeing people taking advantage of you”

It was quiet at first. Clarisse letting out a deep breath, only to be met with you kissing her lightly. “Next time.. you feel like that, don’t deck someone in the nose maybe talk to me about it and use your words not actions”

“Yeah.. Yeah” she mumbled, kissing her once again. “I’m still mad at you though”

“I know”

“Good” You remained neutral but led her inside.

You both laid down on your bunk, laying close in clarisses arms you were finally able to fall asleep. Were you going to have a talk about it in the morning, probably. But right now you didn’t care about that all you cared about was Her.

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #butch clarisse #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #pjo show #pjo fandom #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

377 notes · View notes

lelengerine · 1 year

Text

i will always love you

pairing | renjun x reader

synopsis | “i look in your eyes, and it still feels like, like we first met.”

genre | established relationship, renjun uses a nickname for the reader (darling), highly inspired by nct dream’s like we first met! pls pretend it's winter…

wc | 0.4k

notes | decided to write this because im in love with the dreamies’ new album so take this loveable renjun as a little break from all the gamer hyuck drabbles i’ve been writing! i’m also working on a much lengthier fic that’ll hopefully be released soon

m.list

you’re currently walking down a familiar neighborhood hand-in-hand with your boyfriend, on your way to a playground nearby.

“do you remember what you told me when we were last here?” renjun muses once you meet the entrance of the brightly-colored play area, taking a step closer to your figure to tighten the shawl wrapped around your neck.

“you’re so cheesy.” you giggle in place, cheeks dusted lightly in pink from the cold air sweeping past your figures. “i said we’d be in love forever without a doubt.”

“right.” he confirms, a grin emphasizing the plumpness of his own cheeks. “i’m here to change that.”

his declaration has you stunned in the middle of the sidewalk, “what do you mean?” a slight tremble in your voice as you anticipate the continuation of his words.

“forever isn’t enough for me.” he continues, a glint in his eyes letting you know he was only teasing to get a reaction out of you.

“god!” you scoff out the breath you were holding in, hitting his chest with a light fist. “huang renjun, you can’t just say things like that- i was scared for my wits!”

“sorry, my darling!” he bursts out in melodic laughter, creating puffs of fog in the air. “i can’t help it cause your lips pout when you’re angry.”

“whatever.” you feign ignorance, tilting your head the other way. “anyways, why did you bring me here?”

“this place holds a lot of meaning for us, doesn’t it?” he answers vaguely, and you’re not exactly sure where he’s going with it just yet.

“yeah, it’s where we first met all those years ago. has it been nine already?” you try recalling, taking a glance at the sky above you.

a hand to your jaw brings your gaze back down, now facing your boyfriend who seems to can’t stop smiling like an idiot. “it’s been ten actually.” he corrects.

“that just means you’re getting old junnie.” the remark slips past your cherry lips playfully, another puff of fog coming out from your laugh.

“you’re pretty old too then!” he tries to argue without much bite in his tone. “but, you know what?”

“what?” you repeat expectantly.

“it still feels like we just met.” he states with a soft smile, gently getting a hold of your hands. “i still bear the same love from when i first saw you despite how much time has fluttered away. i think i’ll just always love you.”

“where are you learning to say things like this?” you joke, letting go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. “but i’ll do as you, and love you the same. i don’t really need anything else, you know?”

“you better!” he buries his face into the crook of your neck, hugging you tight by your waist, the action sending tingles to your skin. “i’ll love you more than you ever could, darling.”

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #renjun fluff #renjun angst #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles

222 notes · View notes

t0ast-ghost · 5 months

Text

S2 episode 22 (By Any Other Name) I changed the opening for this one because I left myself the note of “That wasn’t funny pls change it”

Well that’s what you get now:

- Those redshirts are gonna die so fast

- This guy knows what he wants. Too bad it’s the ship…

- McCoy and Spock are frozen arguing

- “Try to escape or disobey and you will be severely punished.” Welp.. we know what’s gonna happen now, don’t we.

- Oh so they just want a way home.. nope they’re conquerors

- Oh neat, they’re not supposed to be in skin

- McCoy and Kirk ready to go out and break stuff and Spock supporting it but also like “You don’t know what the fuck you’re looking for.”

- Spock get mind exploded

- ahem. What.

- THEYRE HOLDING SPOCK (McCoy I see that hand around his waist)

- Oh my god they’re gonna kill both of the redshirts in one go

- You know those satisfying videos…

- fucking hell

- “Spock are you sure you’re alright?” McCoy is worried

- THEY HAVE TENTACLES?!? THEYRE TENTACLE MONSTERS?!??!!

- Kirk touching Spock’s shoulders again

- Spock opens his eyes in sick bay and McCoy’s like “not fucking yet”

- Chapel is full on thinking, “you sneaky bastards.”

- Shakespeare reference

- Kirk distracting the guard in the background is so funny. Great choice to just have him there with no sound

- Scotty with his finger RIGHT over the button. Goddamn this man wants to press the shiny button (no he doesn’t)

- I’d love a stim toy that’s just a bunch of the ship control buttons, but like those exact colours

- Kirk chair swivel (I’m so glad his chair can swivel, it’s something Picard misses out on)

- GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM UHURA. NO! They got Uhura and Chekov!

- Kirk is losing all of his friends/found family. This is hell. Who wrote this.

- oh my god, an honest Bones and Kirk fight, this is.. not good

- “Assist me.” “You’re idea doctor, go ahead.” Kirk is still mad and so is Bones but I wouldn’t let him near one of those guys

- “It’s quite good.” “I’m delighted😒” Bones knows how to sass

- “oh, you are trying to seduce me.” Kirk: 😨

- Scotty: Drinking. McCoy: Drugs. Kirk: Sex. Spock: …Chess

- McCoy smiles at one of the Kelvan’s correcting him… it’s like having a bunch of Spock’s on board

- Spock pats McCoy’s shoulder

- Scotty’s mission accomplished unsuccessfully

- Kirk gets THROWN

- Kirk getting caught by Spock and McCoy and then immediately saying, “I’m stimulating him.” Wild

- McCoy and Spock just watching their boyfriend beat up/choke out a guy

- WOW! That worked 😃👍

Ending that with a McCoy bounce :)))

Masterpost

Episode written by D. C. Fontana and Jerome Bixby

#star trek #star trek tos #star trek the original series #spock #s'chn t'gai spock #tos spock #leonard bones mccoy #tos bones #tos mccoy #captain james kirk #tos kirk #montgomery scott #tos scotty #pavel chekov #tos chekov #nyota uhura #tos uhura

25 notes · View notes

can-of-w0rmz · 1 year

Text

@shotofstress

When I tell you I read this I saw it and I WHEEZED I was in TEARS and I shouldn’t be bothered arguing about it but quite frankly I’m trying to procrastinate anyway and I’ve had a god awful week and need to take out my frustrations somehow, ergo, I’m going be petty not because this person disagrees with my reading of the novel, but because they implied that in reading queer or neurodivergent elements in a work, people “can’t see the important themes that the novel is about” which actually does piss me off a fair bit

Right so first before we argue we’ve got to decipher because English apparently isn’t this person’s forte for someone who is, apparently, such an avid reader and esteemed critic of English literature. Also I just realised I haven’t really provided any context here so apologies this was in response to that joke post I made about mischaracterising Frankenstein adaptations (again yes the pettiness is not lost on me but I’m embracing it anyway)

“He is not gay nor autistic” cheers this person disagrees that Victor Frankenstein is either gay or autistic. To each their own. Wonder what kind of backup they’ll have for that argument.

“Pls stop seen representation of us everyone bc u can’t make the difference,” Right so this is where we get confusing, I’m going to take a wild guess and I think they’re trying to say “please stop seeing representation of us everywhere because you can’t make the difference”, and I still don’t know what “make the difference” means, but we’ll go with it.

“read nothing new”, alright so they’re saying people who see representation everywhere read nothing new, and then the kicker that’s kind of the only reason I decided to respond to this anyway, “nor really see the important themes that the novel is about.”

First off, “stop seeing representation of us everywhere”, let it be known that as I make a hundred jokes about Victor Frankenstein being homosexual, I myself am thoroughly through and through without a doubt bisexual as the days are long. Absolutely love men. Also adore women equally. So no, I am not a Disney corporate executive trying to squeeze in as many queers as possible for the entire purpose of using the fact they have representation in media to excuse the fact it’s a shite film but also, not trying to revisit every old piece of media to squeeze representation where it doesn’t really fit or make sense just for shits and giggles. (Also just saying, you made this comment on Tumblr. So even if I was just going haywire with lgbt headcanons on my favourite media with no real backup, who gives a shit? Who actually gives a flying fuck? I don’t. Let people live, man. It doesn’t mean they don’t understand the source material just because they’re having fun and playing loose with it. It’s Tumblr, not a Netflix adaptation. Let people do whatever they want and have fun with it. It’s cool.)

But like I said, I do have backup and a lot of it so let’s get into that, shall we?

First of all, whoo, autism. I’ll be real not really a hill I’m going to die on but the wording you put of “he is not autistic” is just ridiculous because yeah, no, there is a lot of perfectly decent ground to read Victor Frankenstein as autistic and a lot of people do, mostly people who are autistic or otherwise neurodivergent themselves. Just because in the 18th century people didn’t necessarily have the language for things doesn’t mean they didn’t exist, and I mean, now we do. So what’s the harm in using it? They had their own language for things back then, do we have to revert back to speaking in early 19th century English every time we want to refer to a character who was written back then as neurodivergent or lgbt or anything else?? What’s the point in that??

But yeah, Victor Frankenstein. I can’t even be bothered to explain and to be honest every single other person I’ve said “Frankenstein is autistic to” has immediately responded “oh yeah, obviously”, even my father who famously is just hypercritical of all sorts of headcanons just went “oh yeah no for sure the man is definitely autistic no doubt about it”. So instead I’m just going to include some quotes.

My temper was sometimes violent, and my passions vehement; but by some law in my temperature they were turned not towards childish pursuits but to an eager desire to learn, and not to learn all things indiscriminately.

It was my temper to avoid a crowd and to attach myself fervently to a few. I was indifferent, therefore, to my school-fellows in general; but I united myself in the bonds of the closest friendship to one among them.

From this day natural philosophy, and particularly chemistry, in the most comprehensive sense of the term, became nearly my sole occupation.

Two years passed in this manner, during which I paid no visit to Geneva, but was engaged, heart and soul, in the pursuit of some discoveries which I hoped to make. None but those who have experienced them can conceive of the enticements of science. In other studies you go as far as others have gone before you, and there is nothing more to know; but in a scientific pursuit there is continual food for discovery and wonder.

Like I said, self explanatory. It’s harder to come up with an argument for why he isn’t autistic than why he is, and frankly, what’s the harm in reading him that way? It doesn’t really change anything about the plot or themes, and his character doesn’t change. It’s just a very probable diagnosis for said qualities. It doesn’t change them, whether you use that word or not. The concept of autism was coined in 1911 anyway, so its not like Mary Shelley’s going to be sat at her writing desk in 1817 writing in big bold letters “BY THE WAY, FRANKENSTEIN HAD AN AUTISM DIAGNOSIS.” It doesn’t change the fact that people still had autism back then, just because the term wasn’t discovered yet. Anyway.

Now, second bit. “He isn’t gay” – now, if you read Frankenstein and thought “ah yes, this man seems perfectly heterosexual to me”, then honestly, sure. Go ahead. But to say that reading Victor Frankenstein as queer in any way means that people “don’t understand the important themes of the novel” is completely bloody ridiculous because, again, there is astronomical ground to read him that way.

Victor Frankenstein never really shows interest in any women in the novel, except for Elizabeth, who he has been raised, since he was five years old, to see as his “gift” and was told by his mother since he was a very young child that he was going to marry her – to the point where his mother, on her deathbed, tells both Victor and Liz: “My firmest hopes of future happiness were placed on the prospect of your union. This expectation will now be the consolation of your father.” Also, they’re cousins/adopted siblings. If you don’t think that’s fucked up, even by the standards of the time, I’m not really sure what to say to you. Of course he married her. And before he married her, he generally expresses very little romantic interest in her bar just expressing as much affection as you would a close friend or sister, or seeing her as his “gift” who he “has to be wed to”. Read any other story from this time period, in this genre, and you will not be remotely questioning whether they’re actually attracted to each-other or not. In fact, here’s an excerpt from The Vampyre, another book born from the same trip to Geneva that Frankenstein was, by John William Polidori, about the protagonist’s love interest:

And that’s only part of it. So. Yeah. Victor’s lack of romantic affection for Elizabeth is not “a product of its time” nor “a product of its genre.” And The Vampyre is a short story.

And so you may be saying, “well, just because Victor doesn’t show any interest in women doesn’t necessarily make him gay”, and yeah, true that (ace and bi Vic hcs y’all are valid) but there is very good basis to take the reading that he is attracted to men.

For one thing, just the fact that he’s so particular about creating “the perfect man” is subject to a lot of queer readings in itself, but let’s be real here, you all know me enough by now to know that I just want an excuse to rant about Clerval and Frankenstein. And rant about them I shall.

First, I’m lazy, so here’s an excerpt from one of my previous essays I’ve written that I’ve never posted everywhere on Frankenstein in general:

Just as The Creature is Victor’s narrative foil, so is Clerval. He's equally ambitious and fascinated with the secrets of life, however he’s healthy with how he goes about it and healthy with how he keeps the balance between taking care of himself and pursuing his dreams, while Victor goes over the edge and neglects himself and his sense of morality to complete what he set out to do. He's supposed to represent the ideals of gothic romanticism in Victor and he's supposed to be his anchor and support, (something the Creature doesn't have), caring for Victor during his illness, (“reanimating” him, almost, once again showing that comparison between both Victor and Henry, as Henry “reanimates” Victor with compassion and cares for him after, and Victor reanimates The Creature in a haze of obsession and mania and immediately abandons him, showing what Victor could have been), and constantly accompanying and being sympathetic and empathetic towards him. I also find it very interesting how he does also seem to have those darker aspects to him, lying to Victor’s family about the extent of his illness and caring for Victor in his apartment despite the fact that, for all he knew, from the evidence lying around his workspace and Victor’s feverish rambling, he very well could have murdered someone, and Clerval chooses not to press him on the issue and instead to intentionally help Victor cover it up. The fact that Clerval exhibits these traits only makes Victor’s own downfall all the more tragic when we consider that it likely very much isn’t a stretch to imagine that Clerval, too, likely exhibits a lot of the same morbid curiosity as Victor; he isn’t a superhuman figure with purely positive attributes who is completely far removed from Victor’s situation, the only difference is that Clerval chooses to prioritise his own sense of morality over his selfish aims, which only emphasises the point that Victor’s downfall is, ultimately, Victor’s own fault. When Victor "kills" the Creature’s chance of the same support and love (his unfinished bride), the Creature kills Henry and sends Victor into a downward spiral of suicidal thoughts and heavy depression because the character that represented that stability, that romanticism, that balance of keeping healthy, is dead, and that throws Victor downward into his inevitable obsession with the monster's destruction and his own death.

On this point, I feel like it’s worth bringing up that a reasonably good case could probably be made regarding a lot of queer subtext in the novel, although I won’t rant about it excessively as it obviously isn’t the focus, the theme of love is a very prominent theme as I’ve previously mentioned with The Creature; familial love, platonic love, parental love, romantic love, and I don’t think it’s particularly much of stretch to suggest that Shelley, intentionally or unintentionally, might have added a lot more romantic subtext than given credit for. Not that it matters particularly narratively speaking what kind of love is portrayed, but in reference specifically to Clerval and the Ingolstadt chapters there’s a very good argument to be made regarding Shelley’s poor relationship with her own husband and how she may have projected a lot of her wish for that kind of care and sympathy into his character, perhaps not taking into account, or perhaps she did, how it would come across – author intentions are mostly lost with time and we’ll ultimately never know for sure, but even for the standards of the late 18th century when the novel was set and the early 19th century when it was written, “I desire the company of a man who could sympathise with me, whose eyes would reply to mine. You may deem me romantic,” and “your form so divinely wrought, and beaming with beauty, has decayed, but your spirit still visits and consoles your unhappy friend,” probably weren’t standard platonic sentiments.

And honestly on that essay excerpt, that still sums my thoughts on that subject up pretty much perfectly. After all, a character in a book talking about his best friend going “I loved him with a mixture of reverence and affection that knew no bounds” as well said best friend tenderly nursing him back to health, and the character talking about how his body is “divinely wrought and beaming with beauty” and gently pressing his hand and referring to him constantly as “my dearest”, “my dear” and “my beloved”, while living together and travelling together and talking about how his voice “soothes” him and “cheats (him) into a transitory peace”, pretty gay!

And yes, before anyone says a single thing, if it wasn’t already obvious from the essay excerpt, I do understand “the important themes the novel is about”. I do understand that there are more themes and characters and subject matter, and more than that, I bloody love it! Because this is one of my favourite novels! Of-fucking-course I’m invested in it on a deeper level than “ooOoooh what classical literature characters can I RUIN with my gay agenda today!” But you commented this on a joke post, a joke post, again, on Tumblr. No harm but Jesus Christ if there is a singular platform I can go on and just post stupid bullshit about two book characters from 200 years ago being soft and gay without having to justify that yes, I did in fact read the book, and shock horror yes, I do know that there are other themes, it’s bloody Tumblr. (Absolutely love you lot btw especially all my lovely fantastic incredible mutuals all your takes and readings and art is 👌✨ chef’s kiss)

Oh and by the way, op, I noticed you reblogged this:

And to be honest if I had to say any take or reading was a misunderstanding of the text, it’d be that one (as well as “Victor is sexist for cutting women out of the creation process” takes – Christ that’s just gross. And feels mildly if not explicitly homophobic.)

So just for shits and giggles to counter that argument, here’s another excerpt from the same older essay as before:

Speaking of Hugo, it is rather interesting how many adaptations and literary criticisms seem to go down the route of the Hunchback of Notre Dame moral of “who is the monster and who is the man?”, suggesting that Victor is the “true monster” of the narrative. And, as much as I am a decent Victor Hugo fan, (I’m over 50% through Les Misérables, have you seen the size of that book? I’d have to be), in reality the point of the story is that neither Creator nor Creation are more monster nor man than the other – Victor mutilates corpses and brings the creature to life, and allows Justine to be executed without owning up to his actions, and The Creature murders a child and a multitude of other innocent people, Clerval and Elizabeth who had nothing to do with anything and Ernest left completely alone with his entire family dead. We can’t acknowledge The Creature’s sympathetic qualities without also acknowledging Victor’s, and regardless, sympathetic motivations don’t make up for immoral actions.

Also this meme, which I can’t for the absolute life of me remember who posted it originally I’m sorry I use it all the time in GCs whoever it was you’re so valid:

#gothic lit #classic literature #gothic literature #goth lit #classic lit #frankenstein #frankenstein weekly #frankenstein or the modern prometheus #essay #Frankenstein essay #Victor Frankenstein #queer lit #elizabeth lavenza #henry clerval #clervalstein #clervenstein

116 notes · View notes