#he can't control his voice no matter what emotion he feels even his laughter is loud shrill and getting through all walls and the SCREAMING

[soryualeksi]

The godforsaken neighbours, I just. Why.

When the fucking husband isn't either yelling because he's angry OR yelling because he's happy, they all engage in the great family activity of: egging the fucking dog on until it's barking its head off.

WHY.

What is their problem.

[fhrlclln]

I’ve been living for the Qimir fanfics. Can you write one where reader and him were lovers in the Jedi together, he thought she died, but actually the Jedi wiped her memory. When he bumps into her again he’s FURIOUS but also just happy that she’s alive and tries to get her memory back. Lots of angst but with a happy ending?👀

and here you stand | qimir

SUMMARY -> a man in your dreams feels like a distant memory you cannot seem to touch upon but when a particular meeting with a man in the streets of olega might be the answer to everything.

qimir x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> angst & fluff

WC -> 2.85k

a/n: aNONz i hope this fic is what you requested for!!! i tried my best with the angst 😩🤌

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

the dream always started out softly...

a glimpse of a man with short black hair, dawning a padawan braid, smiling and laughing with you in the gardens of the jedi temple in coruscant. he’d always kissed you and for a moment in the dream, you could feel his hands gently caress your cheek and see the loving gaze of his eyes on you. but the dream was always somewhat blurry... you can't remember the young man's face but his laughter, his love you feel is everything to you. it was comforting, it felt like home but the moment his laughter ends, the dream did as well.

and you wake up with a longing feeling stuck in your chest.

you'd try to remember your times as a former jedi, a former padawan in your time in coruscant. hoping you could somehow remember the man in your dreams, for it felt it was a distant memory than a dream but it always ended up with no avail. it was painful enough that you missed being back in coruscant and to reoccur those memories again in hopes of remembering who the man in your dreams makes it even more painful.

that's until you had just given up at some point on remembering him.

you now reside in a humble planet called olega. the city was large enough for you to explore it in your first days of living there. you opened up a merchant stall, selling the local fruits and vegetables for consumption. leaving the order was a tough decision the council had made upon you, you were a gifted student, gifted with the force. it was strong within you but alas, you failed, you could not somehow learn to control your own self- your own emotions. you can't remember why back then and it haunts you to this day of your failure as a jedi.

but that didn't matter now.

your quiet life of being a merchant had its perks. you were not bound by an order anymore. there were no more responsibilities and expectations placed upon you. you didn't need to train every single day- but sometimes you missed your training lessons. you did miss your former master and padawans, for they were the second family to you. even if it was told that at that time, familial or romantic feelings were forbidden, you still saw them like that.

granted, it was hard to fall back into the normal routine of an everyday civilian. you had been with the order since you were a child. you still would close off your emotions from time to time with the people you grew to know with in olega, but you got the hang of it eventually in the years of living here. but sometimes you wished to go back to coruscant, hoping if you'd visit the gardens and the great tree, you might remember the man in your dreams.

but here you are, standing behind your stall as you packaged the fresh fruits for a customer. you handed to them with a smile on your face and humbly accepted their credits. you sigh, sitting on your stool as you counted your savings to see if it would cover the rent you have to pay for this month. it was enough, your stall was popular in demand because of how fresh your picks was and you were grateful for that. you stand up again, noticing that you had to close now, seeing that almost all your merchandise was sold.

"closing off early again?" the cheery voice of your fellow merchant quips. you laugh, shrugging as you started packing away.

"i am!" you chuckled, checking if everything is in place before you could leave. you adjusted your satchel as you put on your hood, bidding your fellow merchants a kind goodbye as you went off.

a hot meal would be nice, you think to yourself, before you'd head home. walking through a crowd, you squeeze yourself in as you excused yourself to get by. the heart of the plaza certainly was always full of people at this time. for a moment, a watchful feeling washed over your senses as you look up ahead.

your eyes meet with a man’s. his black hair is slightly disheveled and greasy and the way his eyes were set upon you made you confused for a moment how hard his stare was. you look away, getting out of the crowd, an uneasy feeling settling in your chest as you walk away quickly.

qimir stands still in the middle of the plaza, his heart is thumping loudly against his ribcage. it couldn't be you. he doesn't know if the glimpse of you in the crowd was a mere apparition of the force but the way you looked at him had him thinking otherwise. you disappear from the crowd and he is hot on his feet to catch up to you.

he watches you go into an alley way, he follows in-suit, thinking that you’re trying to escape him. his nostrils flare, his agenda for today to go to the local apothecary is out of his plans as he follows you.

he watched you die.

he was sure of it, that memory of you of pushing him into his own ship whilst you stand guard to help him buy him some time to get out of coruscant never left his mind. it haunted him until he lives and breaths and it enraged him that you foolishly given your life for him to flee before his own former master would have killed him.

you were supposed to be together, right?

he thinks bitterly as he squeezes in the alley way. a lot of questions pop in his mind, were you still with the jedi after all you and him have suffered through because of them? that you willingly stayed? that you faked your own death just to leave him? those thoughts made him feel betrayed. you were his light when he was in the darkness. you were the one that understood him despite your refusal to let yourself be seduced by the dark path. he understood you as well yet he hoped that you would see truth that what the jedi do is all a lie.

he quickens his steps and your figure is starting to inch closer to him. he immediately reaches out to grab your arm and push you towards the wall making you gasp as you struggled in his tight death grip as he cages you with his whole body before you could defend yourself.

“let go!” you yelled at him as he ignored your angry yelps as you tried to get out of his grip. he merely stares down at you as you looked up at him. he observes, waiting if an emotion of guilt would cross your face… but there was none? only confusion and annoyance were plastered across your face. and he somehow indulges in your close distance, the feeling of you in front him again has him weak. here you are, warm and smelling the same after years since he had fallen into a rabbit hole of revenge and hatred for the jedi that he thought they killed you.

“i said-“ you weakly tried to pry him off you. your heart was beating so loudly, fearing what this unknown man would do to you. you wished for a moment that the force could help you. he was much stronger, you could tell, even if he looked like a twig underneath his robes. “-let go!”

“you… you’re supposed to be dead.” he breaks his silence. your brows raised with confusion. dead? you wonder if this man was crazy for thinking of you like that. not once did you remember angering any person here for this kind of response.

“i’m standing right here, buddy.” you roll your eyes as he lessens his grip on your arm. and here you do stand, qimir thinks. you relax for a bit as the hard stare he gives you softens slightly. something in him tells him that you don’t even recognize him. and that makes him worried.

“do you know me?” he tests his theory, hoping it was not true. you know him, you would never forget about him.

you two were your other halves of each other’s body, soul and mind, never to be separated even if the cosmos were in between you two. you would always find each other in the end. even in death, you were his other soul, the half of his battered and broken heart. he knows you vow the same as he heard those vows underneath the great tree in the gardens of the jedi temple in coruscant.

i will never forget you. as you had said to him when his lips last touch yours before you threw him into his ship, leaving him in agony seeing you turn on your saber before his master slashes you with her saber.

i love you, qimir.

he blinks wetly. there’s a hollow feeling inside his chest when he sees that you don’t genuinely recognize him the slightest bit.

“…no? no, i don’t know you. look, sir, if you have any problem with me or you want money, i have some credits-“

“what i want is for you to tell me the truth.” he cuts you off, wondering if you were lying as he tries to peer into your mind. he feels furious, furious that you are acting like this but the desperation… the desperation of trying to see you at least recognize him is taking over. you feel the hum of the force, so familiar even if it had been years since you trained. but it wasn’t just that, his force felt familiar.

“…you wield the force.” you say as your eyes widened when you feel him try to pry in your mind. an instinct in you erupts as you somehow managed to surprise him by grabbing him by his arm and the collar of his robe then pushed him into the wall that you were pressed against, making the roles reverse. qimir lets you do that as he looks down at you, a sadness in his eyes as he realizes that you don’t remember him.

what happened to you?

“you don’t remember me…” he whispers, defeated. he grips your wrist gently as a congested look of hurt is across his face.

“and you know me?” you ask, somehow feeling like he knows you more intimately than you had expected. confusion is breaking your calm mind, it frightens you that somehow you feel like what he’s saying is so close to the truth but you can’t discern it clearly. you know nothing of him. you let him go and qimir almost wobbled in his knees when your touch is gone.

he nods and your chest suddenly hurts. you back away, frightened and confused, it was overwhelming that you feel for him but don’t remember him. before qimir could utter anything else, you walk away. he watches you go, sensing that something was wrong. something had been wiped away in your mind with the memories of him and he feels lost. the one person that had stayed with him throughout his grievances and frustrations, the one good person he thought dead and the one woman he loved doesn’t remember him.

he’ll have to talk to you again when he wills himself.

・゜゜・．

it had been days since you last saw that strange man and your dreams have been getting even more vivid.

it was scaring you.

remembering the look in his eyes, you saw that he did in fact know you. but you don’t know him. sometimes when you wake up now after dreaming of that young man in your dreams, it felt like something in you was lost. and that your mind was actively trying to remember, trying to hold on what was missing but it always fails. and it leaves you feeling so lost and confused.

you sit by your bed now. you haven’t started your day like the usual. you felt sick, nauseous and incredibly exhausted of trying to will yourself to remember that strange man. his touch felt familiar when you remember it, his voice was somehow a comfort and his gaze… you know you would be in trance with those dark eyes of his that spoke of tenderness.

your eyes felt heavy as the sun peaks through the blinds of your windows. you sigh, weakly trying to get up. you felt you were about to fall back onto your bed again until a knock on your door surprises you. you freeze, the knocks then grew more louder and you sighed, thinking it was your landlord as you get up, wrapping your cloak around you.

you push the red button on the control panel as the sound of your door swiftly opening doesn’t ready you for him to be standing by your doorstep. you freeze, seeing that he’s dressed in another way-too-huge robes on him. he looks at you for a moment, taking in your face of confusion.

“i just want to talk.” he pleads and you stay frozen in your spot for a moment, wondering if you want to talk with him. but deep inside, your heart is telling you yes as it beats loudly.

“okay.” you say quietly as you let him in. qimir relaxes as you close the door once he crosses the threshold and he stands inside your small apartment.

“how long have you been living here?” he asks, looking around the place. “in olega… i mean.”

“seven… eight years, i think?” you answer as best as you can. “i stayed in coruscant for a couple of months before moving here.”

“why?” he asks further, confused.

“i left the jedi… i used to be a jedi.” you shrug. “it was the council’s decision why i couldn’t continue my training.”

“because?”

“…i- because they said i didn’t control my self, my emotions.” you sighed, not liking that you were telling this stranger of your failure. a stranger that you somehow know. you remind yourself.

“and you’re sure the council had told you that was their true reasons for letting you go?” he faces you, understanding bit by bit what happened to you. "they lied."

“why do you ask me? are you a jedi or was- as well?” you ask him now.

“i was.” he nods bitterly.

you blink. “then how do you know me?”

“we were…” he starts, finding his words to try and let this information on you easily. your memories were wiped as far as he could tell. he thinks that vernestra orchestrated to do this to you when they had disarmed you at some point after he had escaped. for it was to conceal those outside the jedi order of his existence and that it may put them in a political disaster. he scoffs at that in his mind. he wills himself not to go to the local jedi temple and slaughter master torbin himself for this, out of spite he’ll kill them all in there.

“you and i, we shared a bond.” he softly says as he nears you and you let him. “a bond that the order told us that it was forbidden.”

you blink, understanding what he meant. did the jedi lied to you? you think, feeling betrayed by the order that you had respected could do this to you. his soft gaze felt familiar and you reel in to his gentle voice. qimir’s chest filled with hope seeing you slowly start to understand him even though you still don’t know him.

“i am yours.” he takes your hand to his, placing it above his chest. “and you are mine.”

“and together…” those words leave your lips without even you registering it for a moment as he presses his forehead against yours. you shudder, your eyes welling up with tears, feeling overwhelmed as this felt like the scene in your dreams. this man was the young man in your dreams. you realized, why you somehow feel like you know him.

vows in the gardens, whispering it underneath the great tree. two padawans’ hearts beating with one another and the sweet song of love fills their chests as they become one. bound to eternity forever.

“we are bound to each other forever.” he finishes as he wipes the tears streaming down your face.

“i want to remember you…” you sobbed, your own chest hurting for not remembering him. this man that you had just met days ago but felt like you’ve known him forever. qimir smiles sadly as he pulls you into his arms. you cried on his shoulder, loving the way his arms felt around you.

you don’t even know his name and it breaks your heart again.

“i’ll help you remember. we found each other again.” he vows and promises he’ll make you remember. his own eyes wetting with his tears as he nuzzles his face on your soft hair and he whispers. “i promise.”

but all that matters now is that you are with him at last.

[sminiac]

hELLOOOO can u write first time hcs for bnd ??

Warnings — Smut focused, MDNI.

⋆ P. Sungho

An utter natural… it’s a little concerning. He’s incredibly dexterous and collected, being the oldest certainly shows at a time like this- when he’s got you prepped and comfortable. Sungho’s not one to let his nerves jump out of control, he’s excited of course, but if anything he’s the one soothing you. Reminds you that pleasure isn’t the only thing you’ll feel, sex can be many things, so he’s very vigilant about communication and checking in on you and how you’re handling him, lets you decide how much further he pushes himself in, lets you brace yourself with squeezes and scratches along his broad shoulders without a single complaint.

If your confidence ever shifts even slightly off its axis in your ability to make decisions then he’s immediately willing to for you with only your best interest in mind. Doesn’t want you to only focus on how he’s feeling, not at all. Does his best to help mitigate the uncomfortable stretch with lots of attention to others places, your chest, neck, your clit.

Remainder of members under the cut!

⋆ L. Riwoo

So polite, asks you with a pretty smile and every move of his hands if you’re alright, what he should be doing more of, less of. The only thing he struggles with is relaxing, focuses too much on one thing and subconsciously neglects the other, for example his voice, forgets it even exists inside of him when he’s got his hands on you. Once he settles the talking part comes quite easily, he doesn’t overdo it or lack any, says all the right things that somehow are so him without it being too overdone.

Having sex with Riwoo for the first time is undeniably a little awkward, but the shared laughter at each others uncertainty smoothes out any tense ridges in the atmosphere, It’s more like a bump in the road that the two of you have to just get over to enjoy what lays further ahead. The more experiences you share the more his confidence grows!

⋆ M. Jaehyun

Initially he’s very expressively open with his nervousness about touching you, but the tensions ironed out from between the two of you when the giggles start rolling off his tongue, asking you to show him what to do because if he has to continue moving by himself he’s sure he’ll somehow mess up. Takes your guidance and teachings very seriously, always asks “Okay, like this?” Whenever you’re introducing him to something new, whether it’s with his hands, mouth or his dick.

Runs high off of your praise, surprisingly a very good learner, picks up on everything you show him very easily with little to no struggle. Gets emotional at some point sooner or later, but are we surprised? Tells you that he’s so happy to be able to experience with you, that he only ever wants it to be you, how good you’re fucking him that the tears won’t stop no matter how hard he tries.

⋆ H. Taesan

The quietest when it comes to being nervous, but his silence doesn’t mean he’s struggling, his lack of words make up for how observant he is of your body language, the way you react when you like something or don’t are taken into account very quickly and he continues touching you based off of that, but little tips and corrections always help. There’s a kind of silent connection there that’s shared between the two of you, he’s very reactive to your touches and suggestions, not everything’s easy, but he doesn’t make anything more complicated than it needs to be.

Sharing hushed "love you"s absolutely shatters his resolve into tiny unsalvageable bits and pieces. Every single part of you has him so stricken with adoration that he can't shake the unexplainable need to make you feel good, a kind of good you've never felt before. Tries to keep himself quiet by biting at your shoulder, sucking at your neck, but it only makes the sounds more distinguishable by ear.

⋆ K. Leehan

Knows how to calm you down. You're becoming a little too overwhelmed? Small breaks are his best solution, lets you adjust around his cock as he stills, very good at being able to separate himself from the pleasure and speaks to you in a clear and empathetic manner. Kisses your knuckles, your forehead, anywhere he can reach whilst singing you praises, that he hears you, knows it hurts but you can handle it, right? All he needs is an assured answer whenever you're ready!

He takes your first time very seriously, even if you're requesting that he not think about it too much he needs you to know that you're safe and he'll do anything to take care of you. All together he's truly someone you can relax with, you don't have to correct him or tell him what to do every few minutes, Leehan just wants it to be all about you.

[m00nsbaby]

Sleepwalking. (Already over II)

Steven Grant ( + Marc Spector) x F! Reader.

First part: Already Over.

Next part: Clumsy.

Tags & warnings. Angst, like, just angst. Steven hurts his hand at the beggining so there's blood involved, Marc is kind of a... jerk.

Word count. 3.8k

Summary.

What a shame, what a shame, what a shame, It's all fun and games 'til you don't wanna play now. Run away, run away, run away, It's easy to say but it's harder to say now. You're onto something else, I'm a picture left on your shelf. The dream's a lie I tell myself Feel like I'm sleepwalking when you're gone. 

The moment the bomb detonated was more horrible than Marc had imagined. Not only because of Steven, who in his mind was the worst of his problems, but because the moment you closed the door behind you, it felt as if you had taken his heart with you.

Marc collapsed on the floor, unable to cry, even if he wanted to. He wasn't like Steven; he couldn't just let it flow, but at this moment, it seemed more like he was in shock.

He wondered, did that really happen or am I just dreaming?

His body tensed for a few seconds; he closed his eyes tightly, and before he could protest, Steven had taken control of the body. He had struggled so hard to keep him in the shadows that his body felt exhausted, with a horrible burning sensation in his muscles.

"Marc?" he questioned out loud, still on the floor. "Marc? What did you do?"

There was no response, and he could only swallow hard as if it would help wash away the bad taste in his mouth.

"What did you do, Marc?" Sometimes the best part of having Steven was having a way to express his pain. By the third time he asked, his voice was already broken, his vision blurred by the tears that threatened to come out at any moment.

Finally, the other one had the courage to respond.

"L-Layla knows," was the only thing that sounded in the headspace.

"How am I going to fix this, Marc?" Memories of what happened just a few minutes ago came to him in flashes; he didn't have the whole conversation because Marc had forced him to stay in the shadows.

The mere image of your heartbroken gaze was enough to cause nightmares for the rest of his life, whether he managed to fix Marc's mistake or not.

"I don't care; I don't care about her!" He sobbed with anger coursing through him from head to toe. At this point, his pain seemed more physical than emotional. He felt exactly like that time when he was impaled multiple times in Cairo.

But worse. At that time, he had a suit to protect him. How would he deal with this now without anything to shield him?

"You can't go on like this, Steven, we can't…"

As if his body moved automatically, he headed for the nearest mirror, the one where you had sought him out for help. His hands stopped on the edge of the sink, and he stared fixedly at himself in the mirror.

Tears flowed freely, seeking to heal a wound the size of his chest.

"I hate you," he whispered with a voice shattered, Marc looked back at him trying to maintain his composure. The pain of a broken heart combined with his constant battle with pride; he would never admit that he might be wrong. "You ruined it, Marc, you ruined everything."

"I did? I ruined everything?" Marc's ironic laughter made his blood boil. "I told you a damn million times, Steven!" The screams made him startle, but he was determined to hide his weakness. He was finally ready to face him. "I told you to stay away from her; was it fair to snatch away the one thing I have?"

Steven's fist went straight to the mirror. He didn't break it, but he shattered the reflection of Marc into many small pieces, and his knuckles were bleeding in a matter of seconds.

"My life is made to support yours." When Steven's fixed gaze met his, Marc had time to question how they had come to this after supposedly fixing things. Was this also his entire fault? "And I understood it, I swear to God I did." Sometimes he had to pause to sniff through his nose. "All I've done is give everything for you, and you took away everything I had."

There was only silence from the other side of the mirror.

"You took her away from me, Marc." His voice gradually lowered; suddenly, he reverted to the old Steven, with a broken heart and his guard down. The one that made him think so much of his younger brother. "What do I have in life if it's not her?"

More silence. Of course, Steven was in the same predicament as him, clinging to something that brought them happiness.

The difference was that for him, it wasn't exactly Layla.

"We were happy with Layla." His broken voice was barely perceptible.

"You were happy." He looked at his fingers, as the blood continued to run through them. "You were happy with stability, happy hiding from problems with stupid adventures that make you forget how bad your life is outside of there."

The amount of resentment in his voice was terrifying. Painful.

"You were happy pretending to be someone you're not." He closed his eyes, letting the tears flow freely. "You were happy pretending I didn't exist."

"S-Steven, I, I, don't…"

There was no more conversation at that moment. Not for the rest of the day. Or the night. Marc was a silent witness to how Steven cried until his throat was raw, how his entire body trembled, and how an nauseating knot formed in his stomach, paralyzing all his muscles.

The next day was a nightmare worse than the previous one. For the first time in a long while, Steven was able to sleep the hours that a normal human needed to function, but the problem was that, of course, these hours had been filled with nightmares and dreams where only you were present. Waking up to the reality where everything was worse was an emotional burden that filled his eyes with tears in the first minutes of regaining consciousness.

Well, he had to start trying. He picked up his phone, the one you always teased him about because it was the oldest phone you had ever seen.

First call, first voicemail.

"Love? Could you answer the calls? I really need to talk to you, I'm so sorry for the things Marc said yesterday."

Second call, second voicemail.

"I'm so sorry, really, please, please answer, okay? I need you."

Third call, third voicemail.

"It was never my intention to hurt you," and yes, for a change, Steven was taking responsibility for Marc's mistakes. "And I know it wasn't his either, he's just… damaged and scared. Please, love, please, let's talk."

Fourth call, fourth voicemail.

"We can't throw away all our plans, love." He didn't fear that you could hear his sobs or the way he struggled for breath between sentences. "I want to be with you. I want to be with you until the last day of my life, please, please."

The fifth call didn't go through. It seemed like you had turned off your phone. Fifth voicemail.

"I know you don't want to see me right now." He had to clear his throat before speaking again. "I just want to talk to you. It's all I'm asking for, it doesn't have to be now, just give me a sign that I can come closer, I'm begging you."

He didn't give up. If it were up to his anxiety, his love, or his fear of abandonment, he would have called you a total of 20 times per hour. But he knew you wanted and needed space. All that was left was to pray that you would hear his messages and give him the slightest sign of life.

In the end, he returned to bed, laying face down, and closed his eyes for just a few seconds.

"Steven?"

"What?"

"The body."

"Huh?"

"Give me the body."

"What do you mean…?"

"I need to go talk to Layla."

"You must be kidding." Steven barely lifted his head to see the mirror resting on one of the furniture next to his bed.

The one he never touched because it had a lipstick mark from you in one corner. A perfectly formed kiss. There was Marc.

"Tell me you're joking."

"Give me the body or I will take it from you."

Steven had no strength to fight, he relented and hoped for a little peace in the darkness of his mind.

That afternoon, Marc apologized tirelessly, and yes, he preferred a million times to falsely accept that he had had an affair than to confess Steven's existence.

"Forgive me, okay? I made a mistake." His hands cradled Layla's face between them. Of course, he had made a mistake, although he didn't specify what kind.

"You're an idiot, Marc." And he couldn't help but think that yes, indeed, he was. There weren't many more words exchanged between them, but unfortunately, this relationship was an imbalanced scale.

It was about two people who simply didn't know how to deal with their emotions, didn't know how to communicate with each other, and undoubtedly had never dealt with their emotional baggage separately to understand that they needed to work to become better.

He couldn't help but notice the parallel. He doesn't remember the romantic part of your relationship with Steven because Steven himself took great care to hide it perfectly, but Marc is aware of every aspect of what your friendship was.

He remembers every argument, if they could even be called that. You two never raised your voices, never.

And you, as the apparent best friend, knew Marc's story inside out, you were never one to raise your voice, but you were always careful not to trigger a bad memory in Steven.

On his part, Steven was incredible at listening. He listened attentively, didn't interrupt, and when you finished talking, he would explain his perspective. You didn't always reach an agreement, that was obvious, but you always knew that you both were much more important to each other than any silly disagreement.

Marc thought about how he would have liked to be as honest as Steven was when Layla's lips were on him. When his way of clarifying things was to have the grossest sex of both their lives.

Usually, the best part of spending these kinds of nights with her was that it meant a mental break with you in exactly two days. Although Steven never understood why you refused to see him the next day, Marc always knew why you felt disgusted. In fact, he understood perfectly, but he never had the courage to tell you that he was sorry.

Thinking that not only were you in love with Steven but that you were also a couple fueled his self-disgust even more.

"I love you, Marc." That was the last thing he heard before leaving his wife's house, which at every moment felt more like a stranger to him.

He didn't respond, and like everyone else around him, she settled for it because everyone always accommodates themselves to Marc Spector's wishes.

Each passing hour, you were crumbling in a worse way. Probably "dead inside" was one of the best ways to describe your current state.

The stages of grief were starting to attack you, very slowly, but you didn't want to be rational because calling it "grief" would mean that you had lost Steven forever.

And you had, but you didn't want to think about that. After all, you were still in the first stage, denial.

It took you a few hours to decide to listen to his voicemails.

"My baby." You whispered to yourself as your arms clung to one of the many garments you had stolen from him. His navy blue sweater that was too long on the sleeves.

You felt ridiculous.

You sobbed forcefully, your cheek had been tingling for a while from the warmth and moisture of your tears on the pillow. Did the breakup hurt? Of course, it hurt to the core, but after hearing his broken voice on the other end of the line, what was probably hurting you the most was knowing that Steven was suffering.

It felt like they were being forcibly torn apart, although it had felt that way from the moment their relationship began. The rope had been tightening around each of you, pulling you apart at the cost of permanently hurting them.

You were sure you would never love anyone the way you loved and still love Steven. Steven would rather vanish than even imagine a life with someone else.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You whispered as the fabric of his sweater covered part of your face, with the sole purpose of sniffing and recapturing a bit of his scent. The garment had been in your possession for so long that you could barely perceive Steven in it anymore.

You apologized for not being more discreet, for, in your opinion, ruining your perfect relationship, maybe for not knowing how to keep your distance when there was still time. You apologized for being so deeply in love that you felt like you couldn't live without him, for choosing to look out for yourself instead of running into his arms, and for any inconveniences you might have caused Marc one day.

Steven and you were on autopilot. Barely eating, barely breathing, barely existing.

You somehow managed to get up and shower after receiving the call from the pet adoption center confirming that the form you and Steven had filled out had been approved, and now you just had to go for 3 days, 2 hours to visit your future pet.

A part of you momentarily thought about ignoring the call, you were so broken that the mere thought of that visit together ended up squeezing your heart painfully, not to mention that the whole plan from the beginning was for the cat to belong to both of you.

Your rational side was always stronger than you, you couldn't leave the little one without a home. Besides, maybe you needed the company.

Perhaps he would do you good, and you would do everything possible to do right by him.

Needless to say, on the first day of bonding, you cried until your lungs hurt, with the little kitten in your arms. He was so affectionate, providing excellent comfort, but you didn't stop crying for a single moment during the 2 hours.

Then you cried more on the way back home because you had to say goodbye to him.

On the second day, you only cried half of the visit because when the cat started playing in front of you, it drew a small laugh from you for the way he twirled around.

On the last day, you found him waiting for you, ready to settle on your lap. It was as if he understood that you were exhausted, and his purring felt like receiving a hug. You were a perfect match.

Meanwhile, Marc was living days that were going from bad to worse. Steven refused to speak to him more than necessary, but everything hurt twice as much when the breakdowns started coming back. As he took another sip of his whiskey, he realized that this time he had nowhere to go, that he would probably never hear you say "I'm here" again to keep him sane, that your arms wouldn't surround him, and you wouldn't leave him a space in your bed that was a million times more comfortable than his. Accepting that he missed you churned his stomach. Because, of course, it wasn't the first time he had thought of you since you left, but it was the first time he lowered his guard enough to digest that all of this was his fault. That he had hurt you in a permanent way while you had only given him peace whenever you could. Steven understood that both of them were fucked up when he finally saw Marc cry. When Marc finally cracked.

Steven almost had a heart attack when he received a message from you. There was no text, just a photo of the kitten he recognized perfectly.

He wasn't aware of the smile that appeared on his face. One, he could see that the background of the photo was your apartment, which meant the kitten was already with you. Two, perhaps this meant that not everything was lost.

"Can I come see him?" He was biting his nails while waiting for your response. "Sure."

Steven left his apartment so quickly that his curls were still damp from the shower he took in a matter of seconds. He didn't care about being on the most crowded bus if it meant getting to your apartment faster.

Exactly 22 minutes after your message, he was standing at your door.

The smile on his face vanished when you opened the door. Both of you looked like a mess, in pain, and by this point, you had accepted that your eyes would be swollen and irritated for the rest of your days.

You didn't approach him for a hug like he thought would happen. You also took a few seconds to analyze him from head to toe.

He was as beautiful as ever. His messy curls made him look even more adorable. A meow echoed behind you, snapping you back to the present.

"Do you want to come in?"

"Please."

Everything was so… awkward. You stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him.

"Sekhmet?"

"Yes."

"I told you that's the name of a goddess, not a god," he said as he crouched down to pet the kitten, who seemed to recognize Steven. The little one rubbed against him, purring loudly, audible to both of you.

"And I told you I didn't care."

A nostalgic laugh escaped both of you. Why was all of this so difficult?

"Hello, Sekhmet." His pronunciation was perfect. You couldn't believe you had the love of your life in front of you after everything that happened.

And worse, you couldn't believe you were about to let him go, for the second time.

"He likes you." You whispered, watching them get to know each other with a lump in your throat. This was nothing like what you had imagined at first; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Everything was wrong.

"Steven?"

"Yes, love?" It rolled so casually off his tongue. You didn't remember Steven calling you by your name much, it was always "love" or "lovey" for him, and you were content with that.

This time, you felt a pang in your heart when he used the nickname.

"We have to do this." Your voice broke, and when he noticed your teary eyes, he understood the purpose of the visit. There was no way out of this.

"No, please." He looked up at you from the floor, still on his knees because the kitten refused to leave him. "Please, don't do this."

He broke down quickly too.

"I love you, Steven." Your hand went to his chin, holding him in a way that he couldn't look away from you. "And because I love you, it's only fair that we do this, you and I. Okay?"

He kept denying and denying. Ignoring the insistent meows, he stood up. Now you were the one who had to look up due to the difference in height.

Your heart rate increased with the closeness between you two.

"I don't want to say goodbye." The lump in his throat could be heard in his voice. "I don't want to be alone. I can't do it without you." You couldn't bear to tell him otherwise when you knew you were in the same position.

You stood on tiptoes and, without letting him continue, kissed his lips.

Even his kisses tasted like pain. They were desperate, almost violent in the way he clung to your waist and you to his neck.

You remained like that for a few minutes, tasting each other's tears on your lips until your lungs gave up. It felt like an eternity during which you exchanged kisses and embraced each other between sobs. It genuinely felt like you were tearing a part of yourselves away.

An eternity was not enough for either of you.

"Steven." Your hands on his chest pulled him away just a few centimeters from you to face him. His forehead rested against yours while he hiccuped from crying.

He was your little one. He always had been. Your sweet, sweet Steven. He deserved more than everything life was giving him, and in some way, you and Marc knew it.

"You have to go, okay?" He didn't respond, you just felt his fingers tighten their grip on your waist. "You will be fine, I know you will be." Your fingers roamed through his curls, messing them up even more, and you enjoyed their softness one last time.

"I won't be able to. L-Lovey, I w-won't…"

"Shhh. You will be able to, okay?" The tip of your nose gently brushed against his in an affectionate and intimate gesture. "You will get through this, and you will have the beautiful life that I've always known you deserve."

"I don't want it if it's not with you." His fingers crumpled your clothes from the force of holding onto you.

You lowered your hands to his and slowly made him let go, he shook his head again.

"You have to do this for Marc, okay?" You swallowed hard when his hands finally relented and let go of your waist. "And maybe, if it's meant to be, fate will let us know in the future. Okay?"

Bullshit.

You wanted to be with him now, and he wanted to be with you now, but you were grasping at every possible resource to try to make him understand.

"I need to be alone, okay?" You knew he wouldn't leave unless you hinted that you were uncomfortable with the situation.

Always so respectful, he took a step back and nodded, even though his hands were trembling. He didn't say anything, just looked at you as he stepped back again.

"I love you," you whispered, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

"I love you." It was the only thing he could say. He was about to leave when his legs gave an awkward twitch.

Marc.

Steven looked down, frowning slightly at the momentary loss of control over his body. If Marc was going to object, now was the perfect time because Steven knew he was the only one who could fix this.

His stubbornness was the only obstacle preventing you from being happy.

And yes, Marc wanted to talk. But when he saw you, he knew he would never find the words to fix what he did.

His fear of change hit him again. Why was he regretting this when apparently this was what he wanted from the beginning?

He parted his lips and tried to say something that never came out of his throat. He gave up in seconds and basically fled your apartment, closing the probably happiest chapter of his life in a long time.

[bugeater101]

Mismatch

Synopsis: What began as a spa getaway takes a weird turn when Seungmin notices something interesting about the view from his room. Though his interest in the scenery plagued him with guilt, he couldn't help but be consumed by it. Soon, the getaway becomes even stranger when you make an offer he can't possibly refuse. Who is he to say no?

Content: Seungmin x Reader, perv!Seungmin (like a lot omg), Seungmin is so desperate for the reader it's pathetic, a bit of angst (in the setup, which is long), voyeurism, masturbation (m. receiving), teasing, oral (m. receiving), mutual/forced masturbation, nipple play (f. receiving), praise!kink, vaginal penetration, no use of a condom (PLEASE wear protection every time!), creampie, aftercare

Word Count: 9.6 K (I'm sorry)

Author's notes: Okay... first Seungmin fic!!! Y'all better not let me down I literally put my heart and soul into this! A good portion of this fic is the setup but then the smut hits kinda hard ngl. also aggressive use of italics sdfhkjshdk. I barely read over this because I've been reading like 100 pages a day during reading week, so I'm sorry if there are more mistakes than usual! As always, minors do not interact!

Taglist: @scribblemetae @mygsis, @9900z @taekbokki, @imtoooyoungforthisshit

If there was one word to describe Seungmin, it was reserved. There were other terms, too: devilish, mischievous, stubborn. But "reserved" seemed the most fitting. You, however, were different, and incredibly so. You weren't exactly bubbly, but you were loud—and just as stubborn—as Seungmin. As such, all chances were against you being friends. He, who hated loudness, and you, who despised stiff reservation.

But what could you say? Opposites attract.

The two of you as a duo are fun; it simply works. While Seungmin made snide and humorous comments at the expense of others, you would make his grievances obvious through your boastful laughter that drew all attention to you. And, when you whispered your intense hatred of something to Seungmin, he would nod quickly beside you and support your wrath, giggling slyly. Of course, your relationship was more than just your guys' hot-headedness—though it was just what drew you two together.

Seungmin and you recognized what your relationship was really like: it was the comfort of finally finding someone who understood you, being able to hug someone when no one else's body felt like they fit against yours, or even being able to have someone comprehend an entire sentence held within a mute and fleeting glance. Simply, you two were best friends in the truest of terms.

What complicated the matter was Seunmin's inflexibility. His obtuse nature extended to all parts of his life, and that included his feelings for you.

...well, his lust for you, frankly.

It was insatiable. The chemistry between you two was unmatched, and no one could deny it. Hell, most of your friends thought you were already dating until you laughed at the very notion of dating Seungmin.

And it broke his heart every time you did it.

So, he pushed away every feeling toward you that was not platonic. No, it was more than that. It was not just a mere rejection of his feelings, but an utter renunciation of them. He could not bear to have his heart broken every day by you, with every glance that didn't linger on him or how your touch never seemed to stay for long. So, rather than sidebar his feelings and leave them for another day, another person, or even pretend like one day he will get over them, he instead got mad, furious at the thought of liking you. His desires were replaced by a stern voice that told him "how could she ever like you?" or "no one will ever look at you like you're pretty, like they would want you." The voice sounded eerily similar to his own.

Sadly, this voice made his emotions somewhat okay to control. There were easy days, like the days you were not around or days when you were mad at him. Then there were the other days. Days where he couldn't get you out of his mind, days when you were just a little too nice or dressed a little too scantily to evade his thoughts. Days when the tightness of his pants became unbearable.

Today was one of those days.

The spontaneous overnight spa trip now seemed like a foolish getaway attempt to Seungmin. Originally, he had planned it for just you and him—two friends that longed for a quiet escape from the city and the incessant teasing from close acquaintances. Then the two friends became four, and now it was you, him, and the seven idiots he called his friends.

His emotions were running amuck. He was now stranded—is that the right word for this kind of situation? Stranded? He certainly felt like it. This weekend was supposed to be just you and him. Separate rooms, but still together in the hot springs, getting couples massages, eating lavishly—the works. It was his feeble attempt at obtaining some semblance of a romance with you, even if it was all just pretend. Now seven fools were ogling you while he couldn't even get a second of your time.

Not to mention the logistics issues. Oh, fuck the logistics of this trip. The spa was overbooked and thus added to the absolute disappointment of this weekend. Though he advised that you should get your own room as you were the only girl on the trip, you were adamant about having to be alone while everyone else got a roomie. That's how Seungmin got stuck with you. You two were the closest in terms of friendship, and now he had to share a bed with you. He had to deal with you being so close every night. Just within grasp, your scent flooding his system, so precious and close and just inches away from him. God. This weekend was going to be torture.

Hell, it already was. As soon as the group got to the resort, everyone bolted to get to the hot springs—including you. Yet, Seungmin said he'd rather get settled into his room ("our room" you emphasized with a crafty smile), order room service, and sleep the night away. You pleaded with Seungmin to join you guys, even if you would be in the separate women's section. He just shrugged you off. He needed to be alone, to realize how much of a mistake this weekend was, to wallow in his self-pity while you enjoyed the onsen. At least he had some peace of mind knowing a giant bamboo partition separated you from the men's section and, therefore, the boys. They couldn't stare at you then, enjoying you in a bikini—or less considering this was a rather "traditional" spa. Seungmin was satisfied knowing that they couldn't see you so vulnerable, even if it meant he couldn't either. Plus, you seemed pretty excited about the springs, and even if he was jealous, he wasn't going to try and hold you back.

So, now he was alone. Everyone's rooms were now abandoned, minus their carelessly unpacked luggage. Seungmin, however, had spent the last 30 minutes tediously unpacking, refolding, and placing the three days and three nights' worth of clothes into the sturdy drawers of the spa. What a way to spend 30 minutes. It was late, the sun dusting the horizon and the last light was trickling into Seungmin and your room. He knew you would stay out long considering the water would stay warm and the spa open for hours more, so he knew he had ample time to wash up and make himself at home.

Yet, the darkness of the night made him realize that his room was now on full display due to the open curtains. Upon realizing this, Seungmin grew embarrassed realizing that he was completely visible to the outside world. So, he busied himself by locking the windows, shutting the blinds, and enjoying the views of the spa that he was able to see from his room. When he was all done, he gave a quick scan over the room and noticed something peculiar: he had missed a window! The window was short in height but long horizontally long, sitting above the headboard of your shared bed and allowing the last of the sunlight to coat the room. With a sigh, Seungmin clamoured onto the bed and sat on his knees to fiddle with the drawstrings, hoping to successfully pull the blinds shut in one go.

But he didn't.

And luckily he didn't.

Because that's when he saw you.

He didn't know his room had such a view. A view that made his head spin and his mouth salivate.

He was a pervert but fuck was it worth it. Maybe staying behind was the most brilliant idea he's ever had.

This spa emphasized discretion on its website, saying all guests had complete privacy and that the staff were well trained. Now, he was so happy that had been a lie. This window was practically offering him a view into heaven. In just the smallest edge of the glass, only at an angle, he was able to spot due to his precarious position, he realized he had a slim view of the hot springs. The women's hot springs. And the only woman in his view was you. Completely naked.

He silently thanked the architect of the spa and promised to create a whole religion dedicated to him as the Messiah.

The steam from the onsen had obscured some of his view, but he was still able to sit just strangely enough to see you fully. Your hair was sopping wet from the water, skin glistening with its rejuvenating properties. Every breath you took manifested as clouds above your glowing lips, the stark contrast between the cold air and the hot water evident in the air.

His phone was just across the room, so near and just close enough that he could stumble, grab it, then snap a few pictures. Just a few, and maybe a video, and also a pair of your panties to finish the present to himself.

Regardless, he stayed planted on the bed. He couldn't risk leaving, not even for a millisecond. His eyes absorbed all they could and he prayed his mind didn't erase anything too essential to his survival as it made room for these fucking memories of you. But didn't matter though. If this image—you in the spring, naked and soaked in water with steam clouding, making you appear like a siren—was all that his mind had room for, he would gladly accept a life of stupidly if it meant only carnally thinking of you.

He imagined how perky your nipples must be due to the coldness of the air. Part of him hoped you would tell him later how satisfying the water was on your tits, how its warmth felt like soft lips sucking on your nipples and how the cold air was nipping at the buds. Like if someone was playing with you, desperately trying to make you cum just by latching onto your leaking, raw nipples.

"Please get up, please sit up," he found himself muttering quickly. His knuckles were white as he gripped the windowsill and his jeans constrained him like a cage. "Please, please y/n, baby, please just for me, for Minnie, just sit up."

It was as if you had heard him. Or, if God had finally answered his prayers.

It was just a moment, a simple second where you were readjusting your sitting position. And it was the best second of Seungmin's life. Your chest lifted from the water, droplets cascading down your breasts as they lifted from the water. The frigid air had pebbled your nipples and you slightly shivered as your body emerged from the water. Your tits looked so soft, so sweet and supple that Seungmin seriously thought he could cum just looking at you. His tongue watered at the sight of your flushed skin, imagining what it would look like as he dried you off and applied lotion to you after your bath just to keep you so soft for him. You were so perfect, so sweet and just out of his arm's reach,

Then, just like that, your chest was submerged again, and you were back in the water.

By the time you had sat fully back down, Seungmin was already undressed and stumbling into the bathroom.

That's how he got here, ashamed and pumping his dick as his skin was pricked with boiling water. Hot water poured from the shower head and rained down on Seungmin's frame, coating his goosed skin in heat. Steam had filled the bathroom, fading the glass and leaving the man in a dream-like fog. The warmth did little to satiate his hunger, but it made it so much easier to imagine he wasn't there, to imagine that you were with him. To fantasize that you were "helping" him right now.

He wished that the water from the onsen went right into this tap. If that were the case, he would rejoice in sharing the same water as you, as your tits and cunt and ass and mouth and tummy and thighs. Fuck you were perfect. Seungmin kept imagining you, in the spring, lightly flicking or pinching your nipples. What if you didn't care that other women were in the bath with you? What if you started cleaning your cunt, rubbing the water on the outside before deciding to slip a finger or two in? He was sure there were some definite... aphrodisiac effects of the spring, and surely you couldn't resist them. What if they had begun to suck your tits in front of all those women? Nipping at them and leaving purple bruises, letting the heat of the water touch where his hands couldn't?

The grip on Seungmin's dick was tight and he pumped vigorously, willing an orgasm out of himself as he thought of you below him. Would you be the kind of girl to pump his cock with your chest and suck the tip, or would you use both hands and jack him off? Seungmin's mind couldn't decide and opted to flash between fantasies as he grunted and moaned with each tug. He approached his orgasm quickly, clenching his jaw at the pain of cumming so fast.

"Fuck, y/n, fuck fuck fuck—mmh," he whined through gritted teeth as he finished all over his hands and the wall, cum washing away and being wasted down the drain instead of being swallowed by you.

He tried to catch his breath but the steam had overtaken the bathroom. The heat, additionally, made his sensitive cock twitch, and Seungmin whined a little louder than he was comfortable with. The pitiful orgasm barely satiated him and left his dick red, aching, leaking, and begging for more. His overly needy tip prayed for another release, a stronger one, one that voided all dirty, perverted, fucked-up thoughts in his mind. It was still hard, his cock slapping against his stomach as it leaked cum from his orgasm and precum for the promising next one.

Yet, Seungmin didn't have it in him. Despite the pain of the stimulation he desperately needed making him hiss, he couldn't will another climax out of himself even if he really did try. Plus, he felt dirty. He kept imagining your tits and how pretty they would look pressed against the shower wall, the chilled textured tile and teasing your nipples when he couldn't. While you were pushed against the wall, he'd be fucking you from behind. Desperately rutting into you, ass jiggling with every snap of his hips into yours.

These thoughts continued to run through his head. And though he knew that if he fucked his hand again that they would leave, he couldn't do it. It was already so wrong, so fucking deliciously wrong to spy on you—even if your body did look amazing and the memory of it made him salivate. But, you were still his friend. He didn't want to be this guy, the one who jacked off to the person he was desperately in love with, the one who would rather fuck his friend than try to move on. It was a mistake, a sin even, and one he has committed numerous times. Another tug on his poor dick would just add to his roster, though he knew he was already damned for sure.

So, he shut the water off and let his cock stand proudly against his strained abs, the water on his body instantly turning cold and trickling onto his tip. He seethed at the feeling. Shame mixed with an insatiable carnal desire made him tense, but there was little he could do about it. He simply slid out of the shower, dried off, and slipped on one of the spa's robes, the knot securing the robe as well as his cock as it pressed into his abdomen.

Then he remembered where he was: the monogrammed name of the spa on the robe scratched against his raw skin. And you were sharing a room with him. And you could be right outside the bathroom door.

The thought made his heart drop.

The shower made him lose track of time, and you'd surely be back by now. He hoped you didn't need the bathroom. He hoped, prayed you hadn't heard him if you were out there. Though he was already tense from the guilt, he was now completely stiff (especially his cock) at the thought of you in the room.

However, he knew he couldn't spend all night—all weekend, for that matter—in this bathroom. So, he readied himself to open the door. Deep breath in, deep breath out. The handle was cold against his palm as he twisted the door open.

He was greeted with an empty room. The only evidence of life was his carelessly thrown clothes and the ruffled bedsheets from his voyeuristic adventure.

"Oh, thank god," he sighed under his breath.

"Seungmin!"

"What the—? Fuck!" Bodies toppled over as you launched yourself at Seungmin after hiding behind the door of the bathroom. You had got the better of him and he paid the price, now laying face-down on the floor with you straddling his waist and sitting on his back.

"Got you!" You giggled as you playfully shook his shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah," he stammered out. "You—you got me." He was nervous; on edge from the scare, and because his still-hard and dripping cock was pressed against the floor and his ajar robe. Fuck, it must've slipped out when you tackled him. AND FUCK, you're still on top of him! Your hands slid on top of his wrists, playfully restraining him against the wood flooring. But Seungmin felt all but unserious in this situation. Your weight felt heavenly on his back, your chest grazing the back of his head due to your precarious position, making his mind race, and your fat thighs hugged him, making him fantasize about them wrapped around his head while his hungry, wet tongue lapped up your cunt.

Not to mention what you could do to him in a situation like this.

"Get up, Minnie! It was just a joke," you tease with your mouth next to your ear, which he hoped wasn't scarlet red.

"I would get up," he grumbled, "if you weren't pinning me to the ground." He had to compose himself. He had to make it seem like he was normal, like he wasn't just vigorously tugging on his length to the glistening, exposed, vulnerable, beautiful, and soaked body of his friend. Like he wasn't fantasizing about all you could do to him right now. He had to. He had to be normal.

"Okay," your tone suggested you rolled your eyes, but Seungmin couldn't tell. "I'll get off if you hate it so much," you fake-pouted.

Jesus. Seungmin needed to see your lips when you pout like that. They always would push out just enough and would look so swollen and kissable. Too bad he was trapped under you, your plush form, with thighs hugging him.

Then, suddenly, it was lost. Almost as quickly as you had jumped him, he was relieved of the delightful pressure of you pinning him down. He almost wanted to call out, ask you to stay, to trap you under him forever. Instead, he sat up on his knees, making sure to tuck his cock discretely into his robe, and rubbed his neck.

"Jesus, you might've hurt me when jumping on me like that," he groaned. You laughed and jumped onto the bed, bouncing on impact.

"Well, then thank god we're in a fucking spa resort and you can get a massage."

In mirroring your sarcasm, Seungmin rolled his wide eyes and shifted on the ground. He sat with his knees together, protecting his nudity from underneath.

You, however...

He just noticed you. He didn't notice it before but...

Wow.

You were like him. Only wearing a robe. Nothing else, not even anything underneath.

He could tell, your nipples were perking up deliciously under the constrained soft cotton of the complimentary robe. Due to your figure, it was cut short on you. Your robe rested just at thigh-high level and hinted at the possibility of you not wearing panties. Your legs were crossed tightly, too, and the robe had ridden up to expose the part of your leg that just rested under the fat of your bum. The water from the hot spring still lingered in your damp hair and your skin glistened from the spring's refreshing properties. Your whole body looked so tender, soft, ready for Seungmin to bury himself in. You leaned back on your hands, legs still crossed, and studied the dumbstruck boy that sat beneath you.

"See something you like, Min?" You smiled.

"What?!" Seungmin yelped. Were you serious? Was this real flirting? Were you actually saying such suggestive things to him?

Of course not. The laughter that erupted from you was evidence of that. At least he could relish in the sound of your sing-song giggles and then lament in his embarrassment.

"I'm kidding," you chuckle. "You just seemed so out of it!"

"Yeah... I don't know, maybe it's because I've been cooped up in this room since we got here," he stiffly responded.

"Shit, sorry. I knew you wanted to be alone but maybe I should've pushed harder for you to use the spring or something," you pondered. "Maybe I should've stayed and helped you unpack."

No, Seungmin wanted to shout, Please, stay out there. Spend the whole vacation in the spring. Soak your tits until they are red from the water, until they're swollen and sensitive and can't take another second of the heat. Please stay outside my window for me, my own personal little pornstar. Me, just me.

"No, you wanted to use the spring and I needed time alone," he answered quietly.

You nodded. "Is that it? I swear there was something else going on with you today."

Then you uncrossed your legs, still leaning back on your hands. Your thighs hid your cunt, depriving Seungmin of its beauty so he couldn't even sneak a glance.

However, your position made his mind race faster. Maybe he could just pull your legs apart. In this position, he didn't need to untangle your knees to see your pussy. Maybe, just maybe, he had the swiftness to rip your thick thighs away from each other and catch a glimpse of your pussy. He didn't get to see it in the spring. Maybe the water of the onsen made your pussy as beautiful and glowy as the rest of your skin. Maybe it made you tighter, wetter... maybe it was an aphrodisiac and now your body was begging for cock, your glistening and tight hole needing to be filled.

But, Seungmin sat still and your thighs remained clamped shut. He cleared his throat.

"Maybe it was the guys..." he answered honestly. Well, somewhat honestly. Intrigued, you leaned forward and rested your arms across your knees. Oh, great. Now your pussy was secured but your tits were practically falling out of the robe. Seungmin swore that if he nudged you, your nipple would slip out, just for a second. And in that second, the sight of your tender buds would cause him to immediately latch onto them, suckling eagerly in the hopes you would cum just from him playing with you. He tucked his knees tighter against his body to cover his erection further.

"What do you mean by that?" You asked, unaware of the state you were putting him in.

"Just that..." His voice trailed off.

"What?" You asked, hoping he would continue,

He took a deep breath and sighed, "I hoped it would be just us. Like, I love hanging out with everyone but also... it can be overwhelming, you know? Especially on a weekend when I'm supposed to be relaxing. That's why I asked you to come. And now... you're stuck with me in this room and I have to calm myself before I get pissed that everyone decided to come on our vacation."

His eyes didn't meet yours the entire time he spoke. Yet, when he did, he noticed how your eyes were formed into small crescents, pressed together due to the light smile on your face.

"Oh, Seungmin," you soothed, "you couldn't get rid of me even if you tried."

Seungmin's cock twitched, because of course it would. Fuck, you were trying to comfort him, and here he was creaming just from a few harmless words. He was hunched over now in a feeble attempt to cover his cock, but you took it as a sign that he was about to cry. The truth is, he would cry if his hot tip wasn't nestled in your mouth within the next five seconds. Nonetheless, you continued.

"I know it can be a lot, but the guys understand that we're here to relax," you continued, voice smooth. "They want us to be calm and chill for a weekend— and especially you. I could hear them talk through the wall of the onsen and they said that they were really worried you didn't join them. They don't need any more pressure on themselves and neither do you. Please don't feel any burden this weekend, okay?"

His head was resting on his knees now, face down. Didn't you realize what you were doing to him? How your kind words and reassuring glances were making him red down to his chest? You were too nice for your own good.

"Thank you," he whispered. Placing his chin on his knees, he displayed his blushed face and let his eyes gaze up at you again. "It's nice to know that they care so much. That you care that much, too." He hoped you would think of his shyness as a result of his emotional vulnerability, not because he was tucking his dripping dick away and staining the spa's robes.

"Of course I care," you sighed, "you're my Seungie, after all." Fuck, when will you stop talking? Seungmin almost whined at that stupid sentence.

"And, for the record," you giggled. "I don't think I'm 'stuck' with you, in any sense of the word." Okay, that genuinely made him embarrassed. Not only were you sexy and slutty and would take his cock so well, but you were cute, too. Fuck, you were unbearable. He almost wished you resented him just so you would leave and, pray, return back to the spring for a late-night soak.

Instead, he opted to tease you, hoping to lighten the mood he had created in his shame.

"Aw, thanks," he layered his voice in a sickly-sweet tone, mocking your fluffy, comforting words. "But I'd like you to leave now."

"Never," you giggled at his joke. "You're stuck with me!"

"No!" He protested half-heartedly.

"Yes!" You were sitting on your knees now, perched in front of him and giving him an ample view down your robe. Please don't move closer, y/n, he cried in his mind. Not another step, I can't do it. Not today, I can't control myself, please.

"N-No!" He laughed louder.

"Yes!" With that word, you sprung off the bed and tackled him once more.

He landed with a thud against the hard ground. You on top of him, chest to chest.

Literally.

His robe had opened up. Yours partly did, too.

Despite the hardness of the fall, he was dead silent, exacerbating the loudness of your laughter. Then, when you realized why his eyes were so wide and what was poking your bear tummy, you stopped. And the silence became deafening.

He made no sound. Neither did you.

Wow. I'm controlling myself much better than I thought I would, Seungmin thought.

You cleared your throat.

"Seungie?" You asked, arms caging Seungmin and holding your upper body above his own, magnetizing your hips to his.

"...yeah?" he responded after a beat.

"...you're..." You couldn't finish your sentence.

"Yeah, y/n?" He murmured, close to you.

"You're... leaking all over me."

His cock twitched involuntarily, making you shut your eyes tight and a slight moan escape him, too.

"...yeah." He groaned.

Yet, neither of you moved. Ragged breaths were the only sound as you both silently argued about what to do. It was as if you were having a whole conversation through your intense eye contact, an unbreakable gaze that spoke of all the possibilities that could come from the situation. It seemed like hours had passed, but it had only been 30 seconds. Seungmin knew it was 30 seconds: he had counted to remember how long he had his cock pressed into you. As pathetic as it was, this was quite possibly the greatest moment of his life. His eyes held yours and grew sharper when you shifted your weight, involuntarily letting your robe slip open more. You were blushing as much as he was now.

"I... I should fix that," you stated silently. "It's cold in here."

"Yeah," he responded dumbly, "anything you want."

You gave him a nod. Still, you didn't move. It took a deep breath and a shift in your gaze for you to finally lean back on your knees. However, your bodies seemed glued together and it made it impossible for you to pull away from Seungmin. Maybe it was because you were scared for Seungmin to see your chest (as if he hadn't already cum to the sight of your tits dripping wet). Maybe it was because you were embarrassed to see his cock. Maybe it was because you and he both knew that if you pulled away, you couldn't help but stare at the other.

Maybe you wanted to look. Maybe he did too.

Your body shifted away from his slowly, your squishy chest leaving him exposed to the cold and, in turn, his nipples stiff. And, to Seungmin's luck, the same was happening to you.

You stared at him. He stared back. While he stared at your chest, your gaze raked down his abdomen. Or, rather, what was pressed against it eagerly.

If Seungmin had been more observant, maybe he would've noticed how his robe had completely unravelled in the midst of things. He would've noticed that his cock was bucking from the frigid air that attacked him without your tummy squishing it. He would've noticed how juices and precum were pooling on the ridges of his abdomen as they dripped from his slit. If Seungmin had been more observant, maybe he would've noticed you licking your lips at the sight.

"Seungie?" You asked, making no move to close your robe. God, the way you said his name. He adjusted his hips at the sound of your voice, rutting them up into the air and whimpering at how his cock isn't hugged by something tight, warm, and wet.

"Yes, y/n?" He said more confidently than he expected.

"Does it..." you gulped, "hurt?"

Part of Seungmin wanted to lie and say "no, sweetheart. It wants you to fuck it raw, but my dick is still fine." He really wanted to play the role of the cocky, sly guy who would pull a smirk as he snapped his hips into yours. But, it wasn't who he was. At least not right now. Right now, he was the kind of guy that would cry if pussy felt too good, tear up at the site of painting someone's cunt with cum. Plus, he couldn't lie. Not now, at least. Not to you.

He nodded vigorously, "So much, y/n."

"Really?" Your voice was laced with concern, yet your eyes were still fixated on the pulsing cock below you.

"Yes," Seungmin continued, voice calm. "So, so much—ah!"

Your index finger began to trace up his shaft, collecting the inordinate amount of juices that flowed from his tip and rubbing them back onto his cockhead.

"You certainly are hard." You were almost clueless with your words. Almost. While Seungmin was writhing beneath you and hopelessly bucking his hips up, cock twitching from the contact, you were just staring in awe at his length. Perhaps it was the size that amazed you, the precum that leaked from his slit, or his sensitivity to your touch. Either way, your eyes were wide, unblinking, and astounded.

"Y-yeah," Seugmin panted, "But, p-please be careful. You're g-gonna m-make me—fuck!"

Your hand firmly grasped around the base of his heavy erection and held it lovingly, pumping the base slowly. You twisted as you toyed with his length and the side of your hand occasionally rubbed against his balls, making Seungmin's whines resemble stuttering, high-pitched mewls.

"Y-y/n," he cried as you maintained your slow pace, "what are you doing?!"

"I've never sucked cock before," you mumbled, seemingly to yourself. "I've always wanted to try, want to see how deep I can take it, where you like to be licked, what makes your dick twitch..." Your voice started to adopt a light tone near the end. You almost sounded giddy, excited at the idea of sucking dick. In fact, Seungmin—with what little thought he had—thought you sounded downright mischievous.

"I wonder how you taste..."

Your hand moved further up and down his length now and Seungmin's moans were surely too loud for the thin walls of the resort. He prayed no one heard, that it was just you and him that knew you were fondling his slicked member and enjoying it too.

"P-please, stop, I-I'll—"

"Cum?" You finished for him, "I hope you do." Seungmin's lips quivered as his eyes welled. How could you be so cruel, stroking him with such a languid pace? It was inhuman how you treated him.

"Y/n," he growled, "d-don't start something you c-can't finish." His anger was creeping up on him. That anger he tries to hide, and unsuccessfully so. However, its effect was diminished by his blubbering, blushing face and exposed cock that eagerly accepted every pump you gave it.

"Oh, I very much intend to 'finish'," you teased, your voice still walking the line between serious and jovial.

"Well, what are you waiting f-for?"

Weirdly, you didn't respond with the same energy as Seungmin had come to expect. Rather, you retreated to that quiet, contemplative state you were in minutes before when you saw his cock. You pondered his words, what you wanted to say, and how well the weight of him felt in your firm grasp. You took a breath in.

"Can I suck you?" You started to move in before he could answer, Seungmin already feeling your hot breath on his oozing tip. Your actions, dually, made Seungmin's anger disperse, revealing—once again—his whining neediness.

"W-what?" He whimpered.

"Just a taste," you said with a smile, your back arching and displaying your ass while your head ducked down. "Just to try, just to see how you feel... wanna see how those veins feel along my tongue."

"Y/n, baby, just slow down—ah!"

When your hot tongue kitten-licked his cockhead before enveloping it in your warm mouth, Seungmin swore it was like his whole life had led to this moment. You worked his shaft desperately with one hand—the same one that was jerking him before, offering the same twisting, slow, and loving strokes— while the other played with his balls, teasing him. Drool and juices dripped from your mouth as the tasty precum leaked more and more from his slit. He tasted so good, just as you dreamed, and it made your mouth water more and more.

"Y/n, god, d-don't stop," Seungmin moaned through panting whines. Your mouth popped off of his cock for a brief moment, blowing cold air on his tip and making Seungmin cry at the sensation. Then, with a quick kiss to his tingly slit, you slid your mouth back down his length and sucked vigorously.

"H-how did y-you get so good at s-sucking cock?" One of his hands weaved into your hair and tugged it at the roots, guiding you further down his length. Though you choked, he persisted, as did you. Soon, his lower abdomen was grazing your nose and he was shallowly thrusting into your mouth, making you gag with every push of his hips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, f-fuck," Seungmin panted. His grip on your hair started to feel like he was petting you, coaxing you through the tears building in your eyes and the pain stitching along your jaw.

"Y/n, I-I'm g-gonna—fuck!" Seungmin stuffed his dick fully in your mouth and shot cum right down your throat, bobbing your head so you could fully milk him of every drop. Considering he had cum just 30 minutes before, the amount of cum that leaked from him was insurmountable. He normally didn't cum that much, but when he pulled his still-hard dick out of your mouth, he was shocked by the amount of semen that layered his cock and dripped from the corners of your mouth.

"Y/n... y/n, are you okay?" He stammered. Seungmin's voice was teetering between control and stiff whimpers as he tried to compose himself. He felt a little awful about how aggressive, how needy and shamefully desperate he was just now. However, you didn't respond.

You stared at him, wide, tear-filled eyes playfully catching his gaze. Then, you stuck your tongue out, showing him the rest of his cum and letting some drip onto your exposed tits. Seungmin groaned at the sight, trying to pitifully lean forward to catch the cum in his mouth. He wanted to hold your jaw open, make you spit the rest of his cum onto your bare torso just so he could lick it off. Instead, he hummed with anguish as you tilted your head back and swallowed each and every drop of his semen.

"Now," you said with a hoarse voice, wiping your slicked mouth with the back of your hand. "Are you feeling better, Seung? How did I do?"

God... tell me... how could she act like this? Seungmin cursed the creator for making you so cute, so fucking perfect at taking cock. Had you learned from all those videos Seungmin saw in your browser history? Had you practiced on those colourful dildos he found hiding under your bed that one time? Either way, you knew what to do, and you were damn good at it.

"Yeah, y/n," he answered, chest still rising and falling heavily as rushing blood continued to keep him stiff, "s-so good."

You grinned, content with yourself and his response.

Then, Seungmin started to smirk.

"However..." that word and his expression made your heart drop. Seungmin chuckled.

"You didn't finish the job." Seungmin's hand reached up and extended his index finger, slowly dragging it up and down his pulsing dick. He took in a shaky breath and the action, but he continued nonetheless. He needed to prove a point. He needed to show you he could control himself, that he wasn't the kind of guy that would tuck his cock into his robe just because he was around a pretty girl. He needed to show you he was still that controlled guy you knew, and that you were still the spontaneous, bratty slut he knew. He needed to show you who was calling the shots.

"How could you leave me like this, y/n?"

"B-but, I—"

"Don't play fucking dumb with me." Your playful demeanour had completely abandoned you. Seungmin's voice was cocky, teasing, and almost mocking the way you were just moments ago.

"I can't believe you didn't live up to my expectations," he tsked. You played with the hem of your robe, blushing profusely and—once again—eyeing his hard-on.

Seungmin sighed, "Get on the bed, y/n."

"W-what?!" You asked, still stunned. Seungmin's hand suddenly stopped stroking his length and his eyes shot to you. His face was stern and he was ... angry? You couldn't place the emotion. All you knew was it made you shiver and painfully aware of how wet you had become.

"Get. On. The. Bed." His tone was patronizing and agonizingly attractive. He eyed you, his expression hinting at the consequences you would face if you were to misbehave. Despite being prone to disobeying him, his patronizing voice seemed to hypnotize you. Somehow, your body seemed to already rise to the bed and settle on the tightly made sheets.

Seungmin moaned, "Good." After all the torment you put him through, his voice was finally so sure, so stable.

As you sat on the bed, staring down at the boy, you bit your lip and fidgeted, nervous under his gaze. While enjoying your torment, Seungmin stood slowly and let his robe fall to the ground, showcasing his somehow still-hard cock as it arched against him.

He nodded to your clothes, "Take your robe off, y/n." He demanded you disrobe as if your tits weren't already on display, as if they weren't smeared in his cum. Still, you obliged, sliding the soft cotton off of you and shivering as it tickled your skin. The robe pooled around you before Seungmin leaned forward and snatched the bunched fabric, throwing it aside and leaving you sitting bare.

"S-Seungmin," you mumbled as your face grew warm. Your hands started to move to cover your body, embarrassed as your tits perked under his stare.

Seungmin chuckled, "Go ahead. Cover yourself." His words shocked you and made your blush grow, embarrassed by the very attempt of preserving your innocence. "You look so cute trying to act all embarrassed, as if you weren't choking on my cock and enjoying it just minutes ago." He started to saunter towards the bed, hand gripping his base and giving it a stiff tug.

"Why don't you cover your cunt, too?" He panted out.

"What?!" His terminology shocked you, the vulgar word sounding like honey as it dripped off of his tongue.

"I said," his voice grew, as did his sarcasm, "cover your fucking pussy up. Don't you want me to not see it? Like you weren't practically begging me to fuck your tits earlier as you licked my cock? You're already soaking our sheets, anyways." He stood over you now, right at the edge of the bed.

"Use your hand. Go on. Cover your tight pretty little pussy with your fingers. Why not put some in there so I don't see anything? Stuff yourself full and make sure to stretch it open so I don't see any of your sweet juices leaking out." He leaned forward over you, letting one hand pet your cheek with the other took your hand and guided it down your naval towards your cunt. "How about you finger your clit, too? You know, just to make sure I know where not to touch." You whimpered at each of his words, softly rutting into the crumpled bedsheets.

"I'm such a good friend, after all. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable with me licking your sensitive little clit and finger-fucking your hole. You should do it yourself, then. You know, just to make sure I don't." The last of his words were emphasized with him forcing your own fingers into your cunt.

"S-seungie!" You cried as he guided two of your fingers in and out of your pussy, his own teasing your entrance as he directed your hand.

"Yeah, just like that," he gasped, "use your other hand, too. Touch your clit, do it." He forced your other hand down onto your cunt and you automatically began to play with your clit, moans pouring from you as you pinch your eyes shut. "Keep—fuck—keep going, you are doing so good."

"Like that?" You asked, forcing your eyes open to look into his. His eyes were enamoured with you, like he was seeing the stars in the night sky for the first time.

"So good for me," Seungmin said, barely registering your question. "Y/n, babe, you are so good for me." He clamoured onto the bed now, trying to not seem so desperate as he sat behind you.

"Seungmin?" You whimpered out as you kept your hands at the pace he ordered you to maintain.

"Just keep going," he assured you as he let his legs cage you, pressing his chest into your back and his cock into the curve of your ass. "Just gotta make sure you stay covered, hmm?"

"Seung—min, fuck!" You moaned as his hands dragged tantalizingly slow from the sides of your chest to your nipples, sliding under your arms and holding you close to him. So close you could feel him leak all over your back, whimpering as fluids continued to push out of his sensitive cock.

"D-don't you wanna stay all pure and covered, y/n?" He hummed as he pushed his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent invaded him and fogged his mind, making him abandon his teasing efforts and instead firmly grab your tits.

"Fuck!" You yelped, briefly stopping your movements. Seungmin growled at your cessations and traced his teeth along your neck.

"Keep going," he demanded as his grip softened and he started to paw your breasts. "Don't ever stop. Go faster, even." And, like the obedient slut you were, you obeyed. Your increased pace made your breath hitch and your legs push together. However, you didn't dare stop. Not when you were this close, not when Seungmin was begging you to continue.

"Seung— Seung," you stammered, "I-I'm getting close, d-don't stop, mmh!" Seungmin licked the conch of your ear then moved to bite and tongue the lobe.

While you worked your cunt, his hands expertly twisted, pulled and flicked your nipples. He kept imagining your tits as they were coated in water, but then realized you were real, that this dream was happening and he could simply see your tits up close, how he's always wanted.

You started to bounce on your fingers, eagerly sucking them into your cunt as you whined in his arms. The act made your tits jiggle in Seungmin's palm. He groaned at the sensation, hissing at how your chest felt as good as he dreamed of.

"Cumming, cumming, I cum, Seungie," You whimpered, your voice harmonizing with the wet sounds that came from you eagerly rubbing your clit and stuffing your pussy.

"Cum, y/n," he whispered into your ear in a joyous tone. "Make the bed all sticky and wet... covered in your cum. Ruin these sheets. They're not ours, anyways. Cum all over them."

Your moans grew higher and higher pitched before you became silent as your orgasm took over you. Your fingers twitched as they tried to push you through, and with Seungmin still pulling at your nipples, you had lost all control.

"Fuck, fuck..." you panted as you felt your hands become sticky with cum. Seungmin chuckled, rubbing his fingertips along your sides and causing your skin to develop goosebumps. You collapsed into him as your legs quivered. Seungmin, in turn, saw his opportunity and took it, offering you soft kisses to your neck while one hand trailed lower and lower. Suddenly, he started tracing your clit hard and fast, causing you to convulse.

"Seungmin—Seung d-don't," you mewled as you tried to push his hand away, unsuccessfully so. He laughed as you tried again, this time managing to shoo his hand away from your pulsing clit. Instead of continuing to pester you, Seungmin allowed his now-soaked fingers to rest on your thigh, squeezing the fat and keeping you open while his other hand massaged your chest.

"So, so good for me," he mumbled happily as your breathing settled. As you regained sentience, you slowly became aware of Seungmi's position. More specifically, how his painfully hard cock had leaked all over your backside. You gasped, making Seungmin release another laugh.

"I see you've realized," he hisses as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. "I still have plenty of more plans for your wet little cunt, Y/n."

Then, with his tightened grip, Seungmin effortlessly forced you onto the bed, pressing your back against the ruined and moist sheets.

"Seungmin!" you yelped. The boy clamoured over you, forcing your legs wide apart and then settling them around his waist. He sat on his knees, pumping his erection as he stared at your tits and your drenched hole that clenched around nothing. The pinches and flicks had turned your nipples raw and sensitive, so swollen from Seungmin's hopeless touches. God, Seungmin was a lucky, lucky man today.

"Look at you... I'm so glad you played with your pussy for me. You're all stretched out now and ready to take my cock, hmm?" Your fucked-out eyes could barely meet his, more interested in the languid strokes he is offering to his used cock. You wondered if he had jacked off today, if that was why he was so red and swollen. Either way, Seungmin was a sight to behold.

"I wanna ask you something," he questions as he maintains a steady pace. You nod vigorously, your hands rubbing up and down his arms and trying to bring him closer to you. You just wanted a kiss from him, to feel him close, to taste his spit and sweat like an animal who just needed to fuck. To hell with his questions. However, he persisted.

"How did you get so good at sucking cock, y/n?"

Your actions suddenly stopped as you stared up at him. However, he didn't say anything. His hand rubs your thigh, coaxing an answer out of you.

"P-practiced," you whimpered out. Seungmin chuckled. He seemed to like that answer.

"Yeah? You practiced?" He teased, "What did you do to practice, honey?" His hot tip met your folds and dragged your cum along your pussy. Your hole clenched around nothing, spasming from the overstimulation. It was like torture and you couldn't hold back your moans.

"Aw, c'mon, y/n!" Seungmin groaned, "I've been waiting to stuff my cock into you, and I will once you answer my question. How? Did? You? Practice? Sucking? Cock?" Each word was emphasized by his cockhead slapping against your clit, filling the room with lewd, wet sounds.

"I—fuck— I" you stuttered out, barely able to control yourself. "I-I-I did it on my dildos—b-but I was always good! Always... I... I a-always th-ought of Seungie... only wanna suck my Minnie's cock..."

"Really?" Seungmin continued to tease you. Yet, his voice had something else in it. Though he was mocking you and wanted to ridicule your dishevelled state, he was also hopeful. Hopeful that you were telling the truth, that you wanted this as much as him. He practically prayed every night for you in the most unholy and unorthodox of fashions.: fast strokes on his spent cock, used fleshlights, sticky hands... were you praying in the same way? And for the same thing?

"Fuck, Seungmin!" You cried out of suffering, "Could you not tell by the way I practically milked m-my tits for you in the s-spring?"

Seungmin suddenly stopped his actions, the head of his dick still soaked in your juices and pressing into your clit, making you squirm.

"Is that true?" You gave him a small nod, almost as if you were unaware of the words that just slipped out of your mouth. "How did you know?"

You rolled your eyes as if he wasn't towering over you. "B-because I s-saw our window looked out to the s-spring... and the whole time I w-was t-trying to g-get your attention..." You blushed and looked away, "You're already staring at my chest all the time..."

Seungmin was in awe of you. Truly. You... you had exceeded every desire he ever had. How could he resist you? Your cunningness? The sweet, drenched pussy between your thighs? He rested on one of his elbows and moved his hand to cup your cheek.

"You put on that little show for me? Just to get me hard?" He asked as he resumed dragging his fat cock through your folds. You nodded meekly, suddenly so embarrassed and insecure from the sweet gesture. Seugnmin smiled.

"Such a good fucking girl."

He slid his cock into your sopping pussy, juices leaking as his cockhead submerged itself in your cum.

"Seungmin!" You whined as his girth stretched your worn pussy. He immediately set a fast pace, trying to chase a high that will exhaust him and that will finally relieve the strain of his flushed length.

"S-so, fuck, so so g-ood." Seungmin tried to say more, he really did. Yet, he couldn't. Not when the squelching sounds of him stuffing your drenched cunt was like music to his ears, not when you were moaning so loud that the boys in the other room would hear, and not when he had been waiting forever to do this.

"S-stuff me," you whimpered, locking your legs around his waist and wrapping your arms around his neck so he could push deeper. "Fill me up, Seungie, fill me up—fuck!"

"Y/n, God," Seungmin panted in a high-pitched voice. "So—wet—for—me—gonna—cum." Each word was matched with an aggressive thrust of his dick into you, making you moan as he prodded that gummy part inside of you. He looked down at you and met your eyes, immediately captured by their glow of love and adoration. The slight eye contact did something to him, as if it returned all romance to his carnal instinct. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly into yours, whimpering and whining into your mouth while he buried himself in you.

"Touch my c-clit," you begged between kisses. Seungmin obliged, moving his hand between your sticky bodies and vigorously rubbing your maltreated bundle of nerves.

"F-fuck, shouldn't have done tha-t," he whimpers, "you f-feel too good, now. C-clenching a-round me." Nevertheless, he continued to finger your clit and picked up the pace of his thrust. The way your sensitive tits pressed against him made his head spin, the fat of your chest making him imagine how good his cock would look buried between them. He ducked his head down briefly and began to suck and nip at your sensitive breasts, slobbering over them like a dog. You hissed at the sensation, pulling at his hair in an act of encouragement.

"Hmph!" You moaned, "Seungie, I think I—"

"Me, too, baby, me too." Seungmin was almost embarrassed by how fast he was gonna cum. Almost. If it wasn't for you whining beneath him and begging for his cock, then maybe he would feel differently. Instead, he urged his body to chase his high and help you reach yours. He whined as he continually pistoned his cockhead into you, pulling himself up to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm—I'm—I—" he stammered as the buzzing in his body grew to be dizzying.

"Please cum inside, please cum inside," you repeated like a mantra as you pulled him tightly to you.

"Fuck!" Seungmin cried as he offers one last harsh push into you. As his cock starts to spurt cum, the feeling of fullness caused your body to seize and your back to arch. Your cunt squirted around Seungmin's cock, coating it in cum while his orgasm shook his body.

"Y/n, y/n, my good girl, my y/n," he mumbled sleepily as he continued to offer small ruts into you. With a few more snaps of his hips, Seungmin sat up and enjoyed the white ring you left around his—thankfully—softening length. The sounds of him re-stuffing you with his finished length made you mewl and Seungmin hiss. He slowly stopped his motions and pulled away, enjoying how the cum mixture poured out of you. He smiled to himself, content with the sight and the fact that his cock was finally (finally) no longer hard, that his balls were empty, and that you were satisfied.

"Do you feel good, y/n?" He asked as he caressed your legs. However, you were too fucked-out to respond. In an effort to elicit a response, Seungmin pinched the flesh and earned an annoyed, pained groan from you.

"There you are," he laughed.

"S-stop," you mumbled as he leaned down and pressed loving kisses to the side of your face.

"Oh, before you were showing off your tits publicly just to get my attention, but now you can't even accept my kisses." Your eyes went wide as you remember your confession, slapping him lightly repeatedly out of humiliation.

"Ah! Hey, c'mon, you liked it," he teased as he stepped away. He was gone momentarily before he returned with a damp, warm cloth and began to press it over your vulva, cleaning your leaking pussy. "You liked it, just like how you like me."

You blushed and looked away, unable to make eye contact. Almost as if his caring act and physical contact made you embarrassed, but in a loving way.

Huh. Maybe you two were more alike than he realized.

"You like me too," you responded meekly, emphasizing the word in the same fashion as Seungmin.

He was quiet. Seungmin continued his ministrations, though. He pressed the warm cloth softly on you, staring at the stains on the bed, the redness of your thighs, and then up at your face. Your expression was hard to place, but there was something in it that he automatically recognized. It was always in your eyes, but especially now. It was even feverish in its presence. It made him feel that certain way that he often felt so ashamed of. Now, he realized that feeling was what caused him to fall for you. It was so present now, so easily noticeable. He sighed, taking your hand softly, making your eyes go wide. He was not normally this affectionate, this attentive. He was not this openly loving. It made your heart skip a beat as if he wasn't just buried in you. You looked up at him and saw something in his eyes that reflected that very expression in your own.

"Yeah, I do like you," he responded. "I really do."

[kirby0strombolli]

Ghostface | Matt Sturniolo P7

'What's the matter Sidney? You look like you've seen a ghost.'

ghostface!matt x reader

Chapter 7 - The yell

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8

warnings: swearing, chasing, fighting...

a/n: Yall, I'm sorry, I haven't uploaded for agesss.

With a swift motion, I push open the door, and as I hear my own voice on the other side, my eyes widen in fear.

"Not this chapter then, y/n." The words leave his lips in a mocking tone, but the fear coursing through my veins is all too real.

I step into the room, my heart pounding in my chest as I take in the scene before me.

Y/n is cowering in the corner, her eyes wide with terror, and standing over her is… me.

Or at least, someone who looks exactly like me.

My doppelganger's lips curl into a twisted grin as he raises the knife, the blade glinting in the dim light of the room.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here," he sneers, his voice dripping with malice.

I feel a surge of panic rising in my chest as I realize the danger y/n is in. Without thinking, I lunge forward, tackling my doppelganger to the ground. We struggle against each other, locked in a desperate battle for control.

But he's stronger than I expected, and he quickly gains the upper hand, pinning me to the ground with a ferocity that sends a chill down my spine.

I slammed him onto the ground with all of the strength I could muster, then swiftly turn to y/n.

I can see the fear in y/n's eyes as she watches the scene unfold, her hands clasped over her mouth in shock.

Suddenly, as if snapping out of a trance, she lets out a sob and rushes towards me, throwing herself into my arms. I hold her tightly, my heart breaking at the fear and pain in her eyes.

"We have to go," I whisper urgently, my voice hoarse with emotion.

"We have to get out of here."

Together, we stumble to our feet, blood pounding in my ears as we run for the door.

Behind us, I can hear my doppelganger's laughter echoing through the room, chilling me to the bone.

But we don't stop. We keep running, our breath coming in ragged gasps as we flee into the night.

And as we disappear into the darkness, I can't help but think of the words of Ghostface echoing in my mind.

"Not this chapter then, y/n."

As we sprinted down the darkened hallway, the sound of Ghostface's heavy footsteps echoed behind us, growing closer with each passing second. Panic surged through me as I realized the danger we were in, and I felt y/n's hand tighten in mine, her breath coming in frantic gasps.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I glanced back and saw the flickering orange glow of flames dancing along the walls. Smoke billowed through the corridor, choking the air and stinging my eyes.

"We have to keep moving," I urged, my voice barely audible over the roar of the fire. "We can't let him catch us."

But even as the words left my lips, I knew we were running out of time. The flames were spreading rapidly, engulfing everything in their path, and I could feel the intense heat licking at my skin.

Suddenly, without warning, y/n stumbled, her hand slipping from mine as she fell to the ground. I reached out instinctively, grabbing hold of her arm and pulling her to her feet, but before we could take another step, I heard a low, menacing laugh behind us.

I turned just in time to see Ghostface emerging from the smoke, his figure shrouded in darkness as he raised the gleaming blade of his knife. My heart leaped into my throat as I realized what was about to happen, and I knew there was no way we could escape.

With a swift motion, Ghostface lunged forward, his knife slicing through the air with deadly precision. I tried to push y/n out of the way, but it was too late. The blade struck home, and I felt a searing pain tear through my chest as darkness engulfed me.

As I fell to the ground, everything seemed to blur together, the sound of y/n's screams fading into the background as the flames consumed us both. And in that moment, as the world faded to black, I knew that this was the end.

But even as the flames closed in around us, I couldn't help but let my thoughts drift toward night of terror.

a/n: I MIGHT discontinue this... (give me ideas pls)

taglist: @lexisecretaccx @itssophiasstuff @junnniiieee07

[juunobox]

──★ ˙ ̟ there really is no freedom here, is there? (nikolai gogol x gn! reader)

summary : TALKING ABOUT EXISTENTIAL CRISIS THE COMPLEXITIES OF BEING A HUMAN WITH NIKOLAI !!!!!!! HOW FUN!!!!!!!!!!! warnings : mentions of god,,, um,, nothing explicit i swear just existential crisis note : p short, and maybe absurd, my brain hasn't been braining for a while now. unlike my other fics, this one is written in 1st person pov

"Is this why you're always so theatrical, Nikolai?"

"Huh?" Nikolai turned to me, the juggling balls he'd been playing with falling to the floor.

"To mask those emotions deep inside you," I muttered, pulling up my knees to my chest.

Nikolai cocked his head to the side, his silence unbroken as he observed me. His grin then widened, and he closed the distance with dramatic, comically wide strides.

"Well, I guess I do!"

He crouched down before me.

"But you know what, dove? It never really works, if I'm being honest. No matter how much I laugh, make jokes, do magic tricks…"

Letting out a forced giggle, Nikolai held onto his temple and dramatically tossed his head back, bursting into laughter.

"Hahaha! No, no! It's not because I want to 'mask' those emotions, [y/n]! I just think if I suppress them well enough, I won't be able to feel them anymore one day. Then I'll finally be free!"

A grin spread across his lips as he flapped his arms; motioning a bird's wings. I let out a shallow laugh, shaking my head.

"Deep down, you do know that won't be the case, right, Kolya?"

His smile instantly faltered at what I just said.

"..."

For a moment, there was a lull in conversation.

"And why do you think so, dove?"

I had to swallow hard before I could respond with a nod.

"Sure, you technically won't feel anything, but boredom and numbness are still emotions in itself..." I buried my face in my arms, letting out a quiet sigh, "And I have a hunch that you're aware of that, Kolya. But, well, I'm just expressing my thoughts." I continued.

"You didn't need to remind me of that, [Y/N]..." Nikolai muttered out in a hushed voice, taking off his eyepatch and letting it drop to the ground. As it collided with the floor surface, I looked up, finding his gentle yet sorrowful smile.

"There really isn't any freedom, is there?" He said, lifting his hand towards the sky and splaying his fingers as though trying to reach something above. "I suppose we'll be trapped in here forever. We won't ever leave this warm, wet cage, for so long as we're alive."

I let the silence between us sink in for a moment.

"Being a human is so simple, yet so complicated, and so limiting, all at the same time."

A soft laugh emanated from Nikolai as he reached for a strand of my hair, idly twirling it between his gloved fingers. "Go on, dove," He coaxed, encouraging me to speak my mind even more.

"Well... and when people tell me 'your body is your own', it certainly doesn't feel like it. If it really is mine, then why does my emotions, drives and control everything that I do? If it really is mine and mine alone, why am I so controlled by my emotions? It should be the other way around, right?"

"Mhm mhm," the clown hummed, showing he was still listening.

"My emotions... they always feel... so out of control. And why am I driven by my own emotions in the first place? Is it because I'm human? Is it because an entity above me is controlling my emotions, some sort of God, perhaps?"

"..."

"Hahaha! Now, now, that's scary, [y/n]! I certainly would hate that!" Nikolai laughed out loud, the loudness startling me a bit.

"If God is really there, then this just means he can't save anyone." Nikolai's voice softened as he smiled and let go of my hair, his hand now gently cupping my cheek instead. "That's why, we need to find our own way to be free. Find the path to our freedom, in our own ways." he said earnestly.

"I will find a way to free us both," he added, "But for now... I just want to cherish your presence."

I looked at him with a soft smile and asked, "A long day, was it?"

Nikolai agreed with a nod, removing his hat before leaning against me. He slowly closed his eyes and gently took my hand, guiding it to ruffle his silvery locks. "Your touch is so comfortable, can I just take your hand away?" He suddenly spoke, his tone playful.

"I'm not letting you amputate me."

"Hehehehe!" Nikolai only giggled in response and continued to nuzzle against me. "I'm just kidding, dove!"

[bluegalaxygirl]

Wild Flower (Zosan X Reader) Bonus

Plot: Just some moments i couldn't fit into the main backstory of Y/N. Its just a bunch of moments i think are cute and i could reference in the future East Blue series.

Warning: Bad language, Abandonment, Snakes and Fluff.

Reader is female and has the ability to control Snakes that come form tattoo's on her arms, she can change the size of them and see through their eyes but they are also connected to her emotions.

P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8

----- Story 1 -------

Grabbing a large bag of Broccoli from the stall you look it over before handing the money over to the man behind it, Mr Grump, a sweet man who always had a smile "One day your gonna have to tell me what you do with all that?" He sighs shaking his head as he puts the money away, smiling you shake your head "It's a secret" You whisper before running off thanking the man as you do, you've been buying big bags of Broccoli every day for over a week now but you have your reasons. Making your way up the mountain with the small basket of fruit, eggs and fresh honey comb you open the bag of Broccoli making them smaller and placing them back into the bag before making it to the large waterfall. "Hay again, i brought fresh honey comb this time" you smile up at the waterfall but like always there's no answer, it doesn't bother you though, you like the quiet times you have here. Placing down the basket amongst the other gifts you walk over to one of the many trees nearby taking out some broccoli and placing it on the ground at the base of the tree before walking away to sit near the water. Taking your homework book out you start doing your work from time to time looking over to the tree hoping to see the squirrel you've been feeding for over a week, it wasn't long until she scurried out the whole in the tree looking around before making her way down and stuffing her cheeks full of the small piece of green broccoli. Placing the book on your lap you can't help but watch her and hold back your laughter at how big her cheeks get with every piece she stuffs in.

The poor squirrel was so skinny when you first came across her and to make matters worse she had three little baby's on that whole waiting for her, the dad didn't seem to be around but then again you didn't know a lot about squirrel and if the farther stays around or not after, either way you wanted to help her. Scurrying back up the tree she looked around one more time before going back into the whole where you immediately heard the sound of little squeaks, either their happy mum's back or their hungry either way your happy you managed to help at least a little. Going back to your homework book, time went by in a flash only being snapped out of your work by a rustling next to you, letting a smile spread across your face you slowly turn your head to look down at the mum squirrel grabbing pieces of broccoli from the bag and stuffing it into her cheeks. You tried not to move, but she must have noticed you looking so quickly ran away stopping in the middle of the path to look back at you "I'm sorry, i didn't mean to scare you... here" You softly stay keeping your voice down to not seem so scary, reaching into the bag you take a piece of Broccoli and hold it out hoping she will take it off you. She seems to think for a minute before slowly getting closer, her little hands reaching out to take it from you while her eyes watch your every movement. Taking it she scurry's away and back up the tree but you can't help the little giggle that leave your mouth.

----- Story 2 -------

Winter had arrived and even though it doesn't snow here it still gets cold and the bee's go into hibernation, as for you chickens you feel sorry for them since their bear feet walk on the wet cold grass all day everyday while you and your grandmother get to wrap up warm. "Grandma... do you think the chickens feet get cold?" You ask while helping your grandmother tend to the strawberry bushes getting them ready to survive a cold winter, with a smile your grandmother turns to you then looks over at the free roaming chickens "I don't know dear, I've never thought to ask" she jokes making you laugh and shake your head "Grandma, chickens can't talk... But i was thinking, if they do get cold then maybe we can make them some socks. The rest of their body is covered up but their feet are bear" You state making your grandmother laugh a little taking off her gardening glove to pat your head "You know i think thats a good idea but i'm not sure how the chicken's will feel about it" Your grandmother turns to look at the chickens again but shrugs turning back to you "But then again, i don't see any harm in trying" With a big smile you nod at her already planning on how to make socks for chickens.

A few days later you were done with your creations, you found your old baby socks and made a few adjustments so that their claws could stick out but their toes where covered. Making your way outside you run up to your grandmother who's cleaning out the hen house "Its finished" You smile holding out the tiny socks for her grandmother to see, leaning back the old woman looks over your creation with a large smile taking off her gloves to take one and look it over "Very good, i think the chickens might like this idea after all" she gives you a wink before standing up and walking over to grab one of the chickens, it didn't resist just let her pick it up and hold it so you could put the socks on its feet. Once on your grandmother puts it down and lets the chicken think for a moment getting used to the new feeling on its feet, feeling a little anxious that it might not like it you reach over and put its head "it's ok... its to keep you warm" you smile at the chicken as it looks down at its own feet before starting to walk, you smile wide as it walks away going back to peaking at the floor and clucking away "I think she likes it but honestly sweetie you spoil them" Your grandmother laughs while standing up to grab another chicken so you can do the same.

----- Story 3 -------

It has been a few weeks since you started talking with the deity but you haven't told anyone yet, your scared you'll either get in trouble or that who ever you tell will try and steal your time with the giant snake. You felt selfish but you cherished those times with Glykon, it holds a special place in your heart. During dinner, you sat the table next to your grandmother while picking at your food, the feeling of gilt and worry clouding your mind making you feel less hungry and more tired. Your grandmother picked up on this but didn't say anything hoping you would come to her when you felt ready but it's been a few days now, and she's starting to worry "So how was your day?" She asks watching as you look up from your food your tired eyes landing on hers "Its was ok" You state with a shrug before looking back down at your plate of food "Just ok? Did something happen?" She asks hoping to get something out of you without pushing too much, your body tenses a bit as you shake your head, Your grandmother sighs putting her fork down and taking your hand. "Sweetie, i'm starting to worry, your not acting like yourself... did something happen at school?" She asks with a pleading look, you shake your head again before putting your fork down and turning to look at the woman. "It's not about school... I-i want to tell you but i don't want you to be mad" You sigh seeing her face look at you with shock and concern.

Your Grandmother moves her chair closer to you while taking your other hand holding it in hers "Did you get hurt or did you hurt someone?" She asks with worry but when you shake your head she relaxes moving one of her hands to run through your hair getting it out of your face "Then i won't be mad" Your grandmother whispers with soft eyes making you feel a lot better, You open up finally telling her about talking to the deity and how he spoke back for the first time. You tell her you've been talking to him almost everyday and how it makes you so happy yet you feel guilty and selfish for not telling anyone since you wanted that time with him. Your grandmother gives your a small smile while squeezing your hands "Its very rare for the Glykon to talk to anyone so i understand your hesitant to tell anyone. I often wonder what he sounds like or what he would say but i won't steal that time away from you, I doubt he would talk to me even if you were there." She speaks helping you threw your thoughts and feelings "I'm going to be honest with you Y/N, it is selfish of you to keep this from people but its not for the reason you think." You look up at her in confusion not fully understanding what she means by all that, seeing you don't understand your Grandmother leans closed while placing her hand on your cheek "You always put others before yourself, if i need help or if the chickens need something or our neighbors need their dog walking, your more than happy to help even if it means not being able to do the things you want... being selfish isn't always a bad thing, some times you need to be selfish to make yourself feel better or to be a better person."

Your eyes water at her words, you thought she was finished so you turn to go back to your food only for her to cup your face making you look at her "Sweetie... You feel guilty because your being selfish and thats not something you normally do. I'm not angry or upset, in fact i'm happy your doing something that make you happy, that doesn't please other people. I'm proud of you Sweetie and i promise I'll keep this a secret, I'll always be here if you need to talk about things, i won't be mad" Jumping out of your chair you hug her starting to cry into her shoulder as she pulls you onto her lap, so she can hold you close. "I'm sorry Grandma" You cry happy that she wasn't upset and angry with you, she rubs your back and rocks side to side slightly trying to calm you down "There's no need to be sorry Sweetie, i'm happy you've made a friend and your doing something you love. I don't want you to be afraid to take time for yourself, ok?" She asks pulling you away, so she can wipe your tear stained cheeks with her sleeve, you nod at her while sniffling "C-Can we cuddle?" You ask deciding that your Grandmother is right, sometimes it ok to be selfish. Your grandmother nods letting you lay your head on her shoulder as she holds you tighter.

----- Story 4 -------

Your grades were always bad, it seemed no matter how hard you tried or how many hours of studying you did, your grades well all the same. You wanted to cry as the test paper was placed onto the desk, it big red ink a U, was circled which means your work was unsatisfactory. By the end of the day you walked home from school feeling like a failure and wondering what your grandmother would think, she's always supportive, she tutors you and helps you when ever you need but despite all that you can't get past an F. Hiding the paper under your clothes you walk into the garden seeing your grandmother looking after some strawberry bushes "I'm back" You put on a big smile as your grandmother turns to look at you "Hay sweetie, how was it? Did you get your test back?" You don't like lying to her but you didn't want to disappoint her again, keeping the smile on you try to answer as confidently as you can "It was good but Miss hadn't finished grading the test yet, so we might get them back tomorrow" Luckily your grandmother didn't see through your lie, with a nod she gestures to the house "The baskets all read to take to Glykon, I know you don't mind taking it" She winks at you making you smile for real this time and run off into the house, grabbing the basket you rush back out the house yelling goodbye to your grandmother on the way out. On the walk up the mountain you had time to think, you know your going to have to tell your grandmother sooner or later about the grade but maybe you can soften the blow a little, you could also talk to Glykon about it.

The wise snake who is almost as old as time itself would know what to do, right? Placing the basket down along with the other gifts you make your way over to your usual sitting spot while pulling out the test "Hay Glykon, how are you today?" You ask while sitting on the grass and looking up at the black waterfall "Hello little one, it has been univalent but i'm sure you'll change that" The giant snake stays behind the waterfall as it lets out a small chuckle, you let out a small laugh but it sounded more pained than you meant it to be "Is something wrong little one? You seem down" His voice hisses out in concern, gripping the paper in your hands you sigh while looking down at the grade "I got another U, I don't understand, i did the homework, i studied really hard and Grandma even tutored me for it so... Why can't i get past an F?" You ask as tears start welling up in your eyes, Glykon didn't answer for a second making you feel worse, thinking that he might see you as a failure and stop talking to you all together. "I understand that it is upsetting and frustrating but i know you Y/N, you are smart, maybe not school smart but you are smart" He states making you look up at him in confusion, You have to be smart to pass school so your not smart, was he just trying to cheer you up? Seeing your confused face the snake lets out a heavy sigh "Your a practical learner, which means you learn by doing, not sitting down and reading from a book or listening to a teacher talk. You learn by physically doing stuff and Visualizing physical things like images or facial expressions. Its something schools don't use unless they have no other choice."

You nod at his words managing to understand what he's saying but if they don't teach like that and you only learn that way then how are you ever going to pass an exam? "So... how do i fix that?" You ask earning a loud deep laugh from Glykon, it echo's off the sides of the cave making it louder than it should be, Shock over comes you making your eyes widen and your body freezes, but he soon calms down "Little one.. You have a gift for seeing what most others can't, please don't ever get rid of that, you can pass school, you just have to do it your way. For example, associating things with colors or images. Use colored pencils to go over sections you need to remember or draw an image next to that part, when ever you think of the color or drawing you'll think of that section. It'll take some getting used too but your smart Y/N, i know you'll be able to do it and i'm sure your grandmother will be more than happy to help" You smile at his words but when it gets to your grandmother it fades your hands gripping onto the test paper "I-I haven't told her yet... I don't want her to be disappointed, she worked so hard to help me" You sigh looking down at the paper "I'm sure she'll understand and agree with what i have said, I'm also sure she'll be more than happy to help you learn in what ever way is best for you" You smile again at his words feeling more confident than you did before, hopefully now you can start doing better and one day get better than an F, heck you might even get an A if your lucky.

----- Story 5 -------

Sitting on a rock near the black water you look over your right arm and the long snake tattooed onto it. "Now i haven't gifted someone two snakes in decades so i may be a little rusty on the details but i do know it will take a lot of training and time to have both of them out at the same time, until then it'll have to be one at a time. now all you have to do is make fangs out of your fingers on the hand you want the snake to come from" Glykon explains to you as his head sticks out of the waterfall while the rest of his body stays in the cave "So, is there a wrong way to make fangs?" you ask looking up at Glykon who lets out a small chuckle and shakes his head "Now just do what ever comes natural to you" you were nervous to say the least but you stretch out your arm and go to make fangs out of your fingers but stop yourself "Something wrong young lady?" The giant snake asks moving his head closer to you, a sad sigh leaves your lips as you put your arm down and let your eyes wonder to the floor "What if they don't like me?" you ask earning a sad look from Glykon who nudes your side with his snout getting you to look up from the floor "They are you, they won't hate you" he states but you shake your head "Their a part of me, but they have their own thoughts and feelings right so what if they decide that they don't like me?" your eyes stay on the giant snake as his eyes soften lifting his head high "Y/N, do you hate yourself?"

The question shocks you and makes you stand up from the rock "What? no of course not" you glare only for the giant snake to let out a soothing hiss and lower his head so his good eye can look at you "Then they won't hate you, They do have their own thoughts and feeling, but they take on how you are feeling, for example if you love someone then they will feel that too and take more care with that person, if you hate someone then they will feel more weary of that person." Nodding you start to understand but you still have that slight fear. Glykon seems to sense it and lets his tongue flick out to touch your cheek "Young lady, There is a reason why i give my gift to kind and brave souls like yourself, and that reason is because i know you will take great care of them, you will love them like their your own children or siblings and you will keep them safe from harm. I assure you, as much as you love them, they will love you ten fold" Tears well up in your eyes at his words but you nod and wipe them away, Glykon moves his head back as you sit back on the rock and hold out your arm before make fangs out of your fingers. The tattoo'ed snake comes to life slithering out of your skin and onto the rock where it curls around itself before looking up at you. Looking at each other you soon let a smile grown on your face and hold out your hand to the snake "Hi, I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you" You whisper not wanting to scare it but the snake flicks its tongue at you before winding its body around your arm and up to your face where it nuzzles your cheek.

Letting out a small laugh you reach a hand up to stroke its head and down its body while leaning into its nuzzling. You've never felt love like this before or an instant connection that you know will never be broken "See, i told you it would love you" Glykon smiles looking over you and the small snake that turns its head to look up at the giant snake, your snake lets out a long sweet hiss which Glykon responds to by moving closer to nuzzle the tiny snake. You watch the two before placing your hand on the giant snakes cheek "Thank you for this, I'll make sure to love and protect them and i promise I'll get stronger so that they can both be out at the same time, so they can see the world with me" You tear up as Glykon moves his head to nuzzle you "I know you will young lady" he states with a low sweet hiss, your snake turns to you and flicks its tongue over your cheek before resting its head on your shoulder tightening its grip on your body as if its giving you a hug.

----- Story 6 -------

Sitting in the kitchen at the dinning table you flip the page over to the next section of the large book while your snake sits on the chair next to you its eyes staying on you. The book was all about how snakes communicate with each other and what their body language says but you wanted to make sure you got things right so turned to your snake "Ok, I'm ready, give me another one" You state watching your snake close as it makes a hiss and a slight head movement, you bit your lip trying to remember what that one is without looking at the book again, your snake does it again giving you another chance. A gasp leaves your lips when the answer pops into your head "Oh, thats a no, right?" you ask earning a nod from your snake making you smile and gesture to give you another one, your snake thinks for a minute before moving closer and flicking its tongue out to touch your nose, with a laugh you place your hand on its head and stoke down to his back "I love you too" Your snake happily hisses as you pull away, "Y/n honey, Remember the rules, no snakes on the table" Your grandmother sighs as she walks into the kitchen placing a large try on the counter containing fresh honey and honey comb from the bee hive outside. You let out a sigh and sit back "But its not on the table" Your proud of yourself for cracking the code but your grandmother turns and crosses her arms over her chest "Fine, no Snakes at the table" She states making you sigh and hold your arm out to your snake letting it slither up your arm as you stand and grab the book from the table.

Stepping away from the table your snake looks at your grandmother and bows its head low below your arm and let's out a long soft hiss at her, you tilt you head at it as your grandmother does the same both of you not understanding until it lets out that long soft hiss again "Oh!... Please" you look at your grandmother putting on a pout as you beg, your snake brings its head up to you and flicks its tongue out to touch your cheek before looking back at your grandmother. The old woman sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose while shaking her head "Fine as long as it stays on the chair" With a big smile you run over to your grandmother and wrap your arms around her waist as you snake happily hisses and flicks its tongue out to touch your grandmothers nose. Pushing the snake away the old woman pulls you off her to give you a stern look "A flick to the nose means i love you" you state making your grandmother smile and pull you back for a hug "I love you both too" she sighs giving into you while stroking your hair.

----- Story 7 -------

Before your snakes no one really talked to you since you were not that good at making friends and you were the person with the lowest grades but now suddenly people wanted to be your friend. Of cause, you wanted to say yes but it was overwhelming, the kids at school would come up to you during breaks and Lunch wanting to sit with you and talk, the topic was always on your snakes, the fight and Glykon, you didn't mind telling them about some things but you realized very quickly that if it wasn't for your snakes you would be sitting alone right now. Teacher would offer you extra credit work to get your grades up, something you were never offered before while also offering you after school tutoring. You love your gift and your snakes have before your best friends, you didn't blame them or Glykon for how differently people were treating you but you hate all the attention only because of them. You did tell your grandmother about all this, and she had a word with the school, you only heard from one of the girls whose mother works at the school what your grandmother said and did. Your grandmother was beyond angry with the school all of a sudden giving you what you needed years ago, if it weren't for the blessing they would never have offered her all the stuff their offering now. Your grandmother told the school that they could shove their kindness up their asses before flipping them off and leaving, you didn't believe the girl at first but when you asked your grandmother about it she told you it was true. You were doing much better with your Grandmothers help so you didn't feel like you needed the schools extra credit and tutoring.

The villagers were always kind to you so there wasn't much differences there, once in a while you would get offered free stuff but you always turned it down not wanting to be shown special treatment. Unfortunately there were some people who started to resent you, they'd give you funny looks or glare at you from afar, but they'd always act nice when up close. The one person who truly didn't change was a local stall owner weirdly names Mr Grump who was one of the nicest and happy'st people you know, it was always a joy to go to his stall to by food or head next door to see his golden retriever and walk it if he was too busy. He and your grandmother were the only two that didn't change at all, they still treated you the same which is why after your grandmother died and you graduated from form school, you asked Mr Grump if he wanted to buy the house you inhered along with the chickens and Bee hives. He always wanted a bigger farm but there wasn't many places to build so when you gave him that opportunity he couldn't say no. You both talked about prices soon settling on one that gave you enough to buy a boat and money left over while he could use the rest of the money he saved expanding onto the new property. You didn't care what he did to the house but you did tell him to take good care of your chickens and to make sure he brings at least 5 eggs up to Glykon one a week. With that all agreed on and the land signed over you left the next day knowing he will keep his word and hopefully have the farm he always wanted.

[haunted-xander]

When she woke up the next morning, she felt much more rested than she had in a long time. Probably due to her warm, breathing pillow. ...Ah, that's right... I hope Komaeda-kun slept well too.

Just as the thought passed her mind, she felt Nagito stirring beneath her. "...Ah, Nanami-san, good morning... Did you sleep well? I hope I was a sufficiently decent pillow... ahaha." It was clear he had just woken up, drowsiness lacing his every word. "Mmm. You're an okay pillow. Slept really well... What about you? Hope I didn't suffocate you in your sleep or anything... That would be bad."

"Ahaha, I'm perfectly fine, Nanami-san, there's no need to worry! Though even if you did suffocate me it'd be alright! I wouldn't mind at all!"

"Youe self-destructive habits will need to be worked on." Chiaki hadn't noticed Izuru getting on the bed, but now he sat up and looked at them with his usual blank stare. "...Oh? Do my eyes decieve me? Kamukura-sama's face looks almost fond today. Maybe you're not as emotionless as you claim, ahaha. How despairing. It wouldn't do for you to get sentimental now. You still have so much to do, to achieve! You won't let something as illogical as 'feelings' get in the way, will you?"

"...Be quiet, Komaeda."

"Ahaha, you're not denying it, Kamukura-sama. That means I'm right, doesn't it? Kamukura-sama..." Nagito's voice got lower, menacing. "I've noticed this happening an alarming amount recently. Maybe you're not empty after all. That won't do, that won't do at all." His voice got so low and quiet she almost missed it.

"I'll need to empty you again, it seems. How despairing."

A tense silence filled the room as Nagito and Izuru stared at each other. Chiaki had no idea what they were talking about, but she had a feeling that her input wouldn't matter. ...'Empty' him? What does that mean? Komaeda-kun... What's he going to do? And... isn't Kamukura-kun gaining emotions a good thing? Komaeda-kun doesn't seem happy about it, though... Maybe that's the brainwashing talking. ...I don't know what to do...

In an attempt to break the tension, she decided to comment, "...Hey hey, I'm hungry. Let's make breakfast." Both the men turned their attention back to her, their faces finally easing up. "...Ah, of course. My apologies, Nanami-san." As Chiaki moved to get out of the bed, Nagito followed suit, and took off his jacket while at it. Izuru had already gotten up, removed his jacket and tie, and was waiting for them by the door by the time the two of them were standing.

Chiaki filled the air with meaningless conversation as they went to the kitchen, not wanting the tense atmosphere to creep back in. "Oh, by the way. what kind of games do you guys like? I like just about everything, but right now I'm really feeling some party games or fun co-op games. I haven't really had anyone to play them with lately though, and playing with CPUs isn't nearly as fun. We should play some together! I don't have to work for a couple of days so we can play tons! It'll be really fun!"

"Why don't you have to work? I figured the Future Foundation would want to control this area as soon as possible."

"The message said it was so we could 'get settled' into our apartments. But enough about that. What games do you wanna play first? I brought my Switch and a few handheld consoles so there's a few options to choose from. Maybe one of the Mario Party games would be good? There's a lot of them available on Switch and they're really good-"

"Nanami, there are no chairs in the dining room. We can't eat here." Izuru cut off her Mario Party rant to bring up an... important point.

"...Why are there no chairs here? Ahaha, that's odd, isn't it? Did a burglar steal only chairs or something? What a despairingly ridiculous theft to make!" Bursting into a far too long bout of laughter, Nagito tried to joke about the absurdity of the situation. "...Oh, right. I forgot to mention that. There's no chairs in this apartment, for some reason. We'll just eat on the couch for now. We can watch something on the TV too that way, so it works out. ...Assuming it works, that is."

"It will work."

"...Can you elaborate on that?"

"No."

"Okay." She turned her attention to the shelves and searched for plates, glasses and utensils. "...So, what's on the menu, Kamukura-kun?" The man in question made a face. "I don't recall us ever deciding I'd be the cook."

"...Well, I can't cook and I doubt Komaeda-kun can either. Besides you've got basically every talent possible, right? Then you should cook for us... I think." A second of silence passed before he sighed and turned his back to her, going for the fridge and looking inside. Chiaki and Nagito took this as quiet confirmation that he would cook for them after all. "...We'll be having curry. There is nothing else I could make with such sparse ingredients."

"Oh nice. I like curry."

"If Kamukura-sama makes it, then it's guaranteed to be delicious!"

With that, Izuru went ahead and got started on the curry while Chiaki tried to set up her Switch on the TV, and Nagito sat down on the couch. "...The TV seems to work fine, and electricity here is fine too, so we shouldn't have any problems playing games. We should probably save multiplayer games until after we've eaten, so let's start with something simple. ...I'm kinda feeling Kirby right now, but what about you, Komaeda-kun?"

"I'm fine with anything you want, Nanami-san!"

"...That's not what I asked, thought." Chiaki pouted at his non-answer. I should've expected that answer. He's always been like that. "...Let's see... I've got some good RPGs here, but those are kinda long and intensive, so let's keep those on hold for now... hmm... How about Mario? Mario Odyssey is really good. What do you think, Komaeda-kun? ...And don't say something like 'Anything you want' this time. I want a real answer."

"...Ahaha, my apologies. ...I'm not well-versed in platformers, but I... would be interested in giving it a try?"

"...Is that your real answer?"

"...Yes. I promise I'm not just saying that to make you happy. I really would like to try it out." She continued to squint at him, trying to see if he was lying.

Satisfied, she let up her scrutinizing stare. "...Okay, good. Let's play Mario Odyssey then." She put the game on and handed the controlled to Nagito. His playstyle was clumsy, but he quickly got the hang to the controls and was doing well enough.

This was the sight Izuru walked into when he entered the living room, pot of curry in one hand and plates with spoons stacked on top. He silently placed it on the table, briefly left, then came back with three glasses and a pitcher filled with water. He sat down in between Chiaki and Nagito, who then immediately huddled close to him. "Kamukura-sama is so warm~ Is that from the kitchen, or just your body heat? Ahaha~"

"Mmm yeah... So warm... Like a heated blanket..."

"What an oddly specific thing to compare him to!"

"...Just eat already." Although his words were dismissive, his tone and expression betrayed a layer of fondness. ...Maybe Hinata-kun isn't completely gone after all.

They enjoyed an oddly peaceful morning together.

[kentofication]

🔍︎ — choso kamo ✰ fem!reader

♯ — choso spending too much time on his game.

∎ — 1k ✰ fluff & slight angst (mentions of intimacy & cursing).

ⅲ — i love choso so i decided to write this. please enjoy!

the sounds of your frustrated boyfriend emitted from your shared room. he was once—again—playing the same damn game for hours at a time. he's been lacking at giving you attention, and you're starting to feel distant from the relationship. 

a feeling deep inside of your heart is crumbling down to the bare bone to the point where you don't know what to feel anymore. as you stare away from afar—silently watching choso's fingers move against the various colored buttons on the controller—the pit in your heart starts getting colder and colder, breaking and breaking until there's nothing left but an empty, black void. 

he didn't even know that you were staring at him, nor did he notice your presence. his rgb headphones were placed over his head tightly, tight enough so he couldn't hear his surroundings. 

you watched as his digits moved quicker against the buttons, signaling that he was close to finishing the game. his fingers moving quickly reminded you of the previous, intimate moments the two of you had together during the times that he actually paid attention to you. now it's just "win this win that" all week long; all month long. 

"shit." that slur snapped you back into reality, finally hearing choso's voice after two hours of him focusing on the screen that was in front of him. he took his headphones off and hung them on the stand that was located on the desk. 

choso leaned back to the point where his back was on your shared mattress—it soaking up the scent of choso in remembrance. you shifted inside of your shared room as you looked at him with glossy eyes, those starting to dry. 

"hey baby," he said, as he got up from his previous position to look you in the eyes. those eyes, those damn eyes. eyes that have been burned a different shade of purple because of looking at that screen for hours at a day. those eyes who have all the emotions in them: sadness, happiness, lust, disgust, laughter. those eyes that have been ignoring your gaze for multiple weeks at end. those eyes; choso's eyes. 

"hey, what's the matter?" he asked, resting his elbows on his knees, not breaking eye contact with you. you snapped out of reality as you stared at his eyes. 

"n-nothing." you fiddled with your fingers attempting not to break down in tears right in front of him. choso huffed, "there is something wrong. you've been ignoring me ever since i bought this new setup." 

you thought to yourself, "no, you've been ignoring me ever since you got that new setup." you attempted to say a word, but it came out in broken syllables. it's come to a point where you can't even speak to your boyfriend without breaking down. cracks were building up in that dam you created in your heart, not wanting to tell choso the truth. 

"i-i have?" you questioned. "'m so sorry, choso."to be honest, it hurt when you said his name. it's come to the point where you don't even want to say his name anymore. 

suddenly, the feeling of warmth surrounded you. you felt like you were in hell, but more peacefully. it surrounded you, everywhere. every single atom in your body succumbed to the warmth that unreasonably came to you. 

"y/n, please, just tell me." choso gripped his arms around you tighter as you sobbed into his shirt. the same shirt that you used to wear to bed. the same shirt he fucked you in for multiple occasions. the same shirt that you washed and dried just for him (and you) to wear. "you, choso." you managed to mutter out into his shirt. "you are the matter." 

you started to fist his shirt—anger was taking control now. you felt choso's eyes widened as he looked at you. those eyes of his were now saddened, but slightly confused. 

"me?" he questioned himself, almost mockingly. "yes, you!" you exclaimed, punching him on his chest with intent to leave a bruise. "what have i done, sweetheart?" he asked, putting both of his large hands on your shoulders. 

you looked at him, those now dried eyes beginning to have a slight wetness to them. "ever since you bought that game, you've been ignoring me! you've been ignoring my cooking, my offerings, my love! everything!" you let all those feelings rush out at you all at once. choso took in what you said—like the good boyfriend he was aiming to be. 

"baby, why didn't you tell me sooner?" choso asked, caressing your cheek in his hand and rubbing the excess salty tears off your face. "y-you wouldn't listen to me sooner." choso sighed, "of course i would've. you could've just turned off my game and i would transfer all of my attention over to you." 

you gulped. 

you've seen how men (especially boys) act when their game gets turned off mid-round. you saw how angry they got and how their mood would change immediately. "it would be risky." you said. "risky?" he asked with a questionable expression. "how would that be risky, baby?" he asked yet again, looking at you with now confused eyes. 

you chuckled in your hand, "you would get all cranky 'n stuff." choso grinned, "cranky? me?" you two began laughing again, savoring the moment before his game automatically went to the title screen. 

"baby, i promise i won't make the same mistake again. if i do, i give you permission to slap me." you awed, "permission to slap the choso kamo?" you questioned. he nodded his head in confirmation as you giggled and ran away from his grasp. 

"dinner is ready! don’t be late mr. choso." you said as you ran down the stairs giggling all the way down. 

he sighed into his palm that was collectively held up by his knee as he sat down. he turned off his set up and closed the door to your shared room. 

"typical y/n." he murmured to himself as he made his way down to eat your delicious cooking.

2022 © originally posted by @k-3nt0. please do not copy, translate, repost, or plagiarize. (reblogs are appreciated!)

[chewingchan]

Affection - Chapter Three

Chapter Two of Affection

Synopis: Being in love with your childhood friend wasn’t the best feeling ever, even more so now that he got himself a girlfriend. Moving in with him didn’t seem like the best idea either, but life always brings us the most unexpected gifts.

Content info: Chan x afab reader, Changbin x afab reader, angst/fluff, best friend Chan, brother Felix, roommates Minho and Changbin, Minho x Jisung

Spotify Playlist.

It wasn’t easy to deal with a sad, angry and frustrated Christopher. I paced back and forth in the hallway, heart heavy with worry for my best friend. I just couldn't understand how his (now ex) girlfriend had betrayed him, the oh so perfect Bang Chan. The mere thought of his pain tugged at my heartstrings, amplifying, just for a little moment, the affection I had always harbored for him. Christopher had been my confidant, my partner in crime, and now I longed to be his solace.

With a determined resolve, I knocked on Christopher's door, anxiety fluttering in my stomach. The door swung open, revealing a disheveled Chan, his eyes red and puffy from tears.

- Hey, - I whispered, softly, stepping inside and enveloping him in a warm embrace. - I'm so sorry for what happened, Chris.

Chan sighed heavily, burying his face in my shoulder.

- I can't believe it, Y/N. I gave her everything, how could she do this to me?

- Sometimes, people change, and we have no control over their actions, it's not our fault. But what matters is how we move forward and heal. You deserve so much better than someone who would betray your trust. - I ran my fingers through his soft curls, trying to offer a semblance of comfort.

- Thank you for always being there for me. I don't know what I would do without you. - He leaned back, his gaze searching mine.

- You'll never have to find out, Chris. I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this together, I promise. - My heart skipped a beat, but I pushed my stubborn feelings aside, focusing solely on being there for him.

As the hours ticked by, I stayed by Chan's side, listening to his thoughts and worries. We shared laughter and tears, finding comfort in each other's presence. In that intimate moment, I couldn't deny the depth of my feelings for him, they never went away afterall, but I knew now was not the time to reveal my love, it never was. Christopher needed a friend, not a confession that might complicate his already fragile situation.

The following day, I returned to my own room, my mind still filled with thoughts of Christopher. It wasn't unusual for us to sleep together back in the days, but things changed, and I couldn't deny the butterflies going around in my stomach.

- Y/N, - Changbin said, his voice low and filled uncertainty. - Thanks for being there for Chan. It's... admirable.

My eyebrows furrowed instantly, unsure of how to respond. I couldn't grasp why Changbin was suddenly saying those things. Maybe he knew about my feelings for Chan? - Thank you, Changbin. But right now, I'm just focused on supporting Christopher through his breakup.

Changbin leaned closer.

-  Y/N, you're intelligent, kind, and beautiful. Chan is lucky to have you by his side, really.

Caught off guard by his sudden compliments, I stepped back, a whirlwind of emotions stirring within me. I knew where this was heading. What the hell was he thinking?

- Changbin, I... I value our friendship, but I need time to process everything that's happening right now. Can we talk about this later? I'm going out.

Changbin nodded, a mix of disappointment and understanding crossing his features.

- Of course, Y/N. Take all the time you need, I'm so sorry.

As I grabbed my jacket and stepped out of the house, I couldn't help but feel guilty for inadvertently hurting Changbin. She hoped their friendship could endure this newfound complication.

Days turned into weeks, and our friend group FINALLY gathered one evening to meet Minho's new boyfriend, who was known for his shyness. We ended up congregated in a cozy café, sipping hot beverages and sharing stories.

As per usual, the boys and I couldn't contain our excitement.

- We can't wait to meet this mysterious boyfriend of yours, Minho! You've been raving about him for months. - Chan exclaimed, smiling like a proud dad.

Minho scoffed, grateful for the dim lighting that concealed his blushing, I suppose.

- He's really something special. I hope you all like him.

As the group settled into a corner booth, a young man with cute cheeks and a shy smile joined us. He introduced himself as Jisung Han, and despite his initial reserved nature, he radiated a gentle charm that instantly endeared him to everyone.

Throughout the evening, I observed the interactions between Jisung and our friends, their smiles and laughter forming a tapestry of newfound connections. I couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness and hope, knowing that love had found a way into their lives once again.

Amidst the whispered conversations, laughter, and fleeting glances, my heart remained conflicted. I recollected the complexities of my old unrequited love for Christopher, my newfound dilemma with Changbin, and the quiet yearning for a love story of my own.

Little did I know that the winds of change were swirling, quietly.

Autor's note: Guys, the playlist for this series is finally out! I'm almost 100% sure it won't suit everybody's taste, but I added songs that made sense to me and my feelings while writing the fanfiction! Thank you for all the love <3 Make sure to comment or send me a DM so we can chat and get to know each other!

[jainiss]

hello!

bringing reactions of shanks, mihawk and buggy, from one piece, when they do something that makes yn very angry. Yn have an angry attitude towards them and walk away.

Hope you guys like it ~

Ps: forgive me if there are english mistakes. English is not my native language. 

Ps2: these are guesses at what I think it would be. all fictional.

Shanks stood on the deck of the Red-Haired Pirates' ship, a hint of recognition in his eyes as he saw you approaching. Your face was twisted with anger, and you marched directly toward him. Shanks greeted you calmly, "Yn, it's been a long time." Your fists clenched even tighter, your voice dripping with bitterness. "Don't act like you don't know what you did, Shanks!" Shanks nodded solemnly. "I remember, Yn. I know I made a mistake, and I regret it deeply."

Your anger flared as you shouted, "Regret won't change what happened! You left me to fend for myself!" Shanks's gaze remained steady. "I can't change the past, but I hope we can find a way to move forward." Your anger seemed uncontainable. "Move forward? After everything?" You turned to walk away. Shanks watched you go, his heart heavy with guilt and sorrow. He knew the pain he had caused, and he wished for nothing more than a chance to make amends. He knew that reconciliation would take time and effort, but he was willing to try.

---

Mihawk was taken aback by the sudden surge of anger in your eyes. You had always been patient and understanding, but now, you were seething with frustration. Your voice quivered with anger as you exclaimed, "Mihawk, you promised you would be here for my important event, and you didn't show up!" your disappointment was palpable.

Mihawk's heart sank as he realized his grave error. He had indeed promised to attend your significant event, but circumstances beyond his control had prevented him from keeping that promise. "I know I let you down, yn," Mihawk admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "Something urgent came up, and I couldn't make it. I should have informed you sooner." Your anger was mixed with a deep sense of hurt. "It was a crucial moment for me, Mihawk. I needed you, and you weren't there. I felt abandoned."

Mihawk reached out to you, but you took a step back. Your anger was still raw, and you needed time to process your emotions. "I understand if you're angry with me," Mihawk said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I will make it up to you in any way I can, yn. Please give me a chance to make things right." As you walked away, your anger remained, but Mihawk was determined to mend your relationship and prove that he valued your feelings and commitments.

---

In the bustling streets of Loguetown, the Straw Hat Pirates found themselves in yet another adventure. Buggy the Clown, had unexpectedly crossed paths with you, a member of the Straw Hat crew. You had always been known for your calm and collected demeanor. However, there was one thing that could set you off like a cannonball - Buggy's antics. And today, it seemed like Buggy was determined to push your patience to the limit.

As the crew gathered at a local market, Buggy, with his trademark red nose and cackling laughter, decided to show off his sword skills. Swinging his dual knives around with reckless abandon, he sent fruits and vegetables flying in all directions. "Watch out, everyone! Buggy's on the loose again," Nami shouted, trying to protect her precious tangerines. But you had had enough.

With a furious scowl, you stormed over to Buggy. "That's it, Buggy! Your childish antics have gone too far this time!" Buggy, still grinning foolishly, turned to face you. "Oh, what's the matter, yn? Can't handle a little fun?" Without warning, you reached out and grabbed Buggy's red, bulbous nose, yanking it hard. Buggy's eyes widened in shock as pain shot through him. His laughter turned into agonized cries. "Fun, you call this fun?" You seethed. "This is a market, not a playground!" With a final twist of Buggy's nose, you released him and turned away, leaving the clown pirate clutching his face in pain.

The entire market fell silent, shocked by the sudden turn of events. Later, as the Straw Hat Pirates continued their adventure, Buggy sat alone, nursing his nose. He couldn't believe he had finally met someone who could put him in his place. Perhaps it was time for him to rethink his childish ways. Little did he know that this encounter with you would be the catalyst for a change in his pirate career. Buggy the Clown would begin to mature and it all started with one angry, nose-twisting encounter with you.

Byebye~

© jainiss ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

[chaoslulled]

if you're not going to get drunk with me, i'm afraid i can't take you seriously. ( from haymitch, for cherri )

teeth clench so hard she feels the tick in her jaw.   red hair flares over her shoulder like a manifestation of the anger that knocks around her rib cage.  she is tired of the drinking;  her mind moves back to the night a few weeks ago, the one where he had cut his hand and gotten blood everywhere and then cried into her shoulder.  she remembers the way that he had been so weak, so broken down;  the way that he is nothing more than the guilt and anger that fills his chest and soul.  she doesn't know why she cares so deeply about this damn man  ––  there's no sense in it.  they are both victors and there is no use in trying to pretend that they do not both have blood on their hands, that they haven't killed in order to survive.  that they aren't both monsters  ––  no amount of alcohol will ever, ever change that.  nothing will ever change the things they've done or the fact that they will be forced to keep committing atrocities in the name of president snow no matter if they want to or not.

she has felt that brush with it far too often.  she remembers her brothers eyes, horrified and pleading that she say nothing, that she stills her tongue for the one that he no longer has.  she hasn't had it within her to inform her parents of the new avox that has joined the capitol.  instead, she has sat by herself with dinner gone cold, body perched in the window and wondering if there is a way to bypass the force fields that would prevent her from taking her own life.  if there is ever going to be a way around the things that snow wants from her  ––  her body, her soul, her mind;  or if she is merely going to be like this forever.  if he will pick them all off one by one if it means that she will cooperate with the delusions of a sick old man with control issues.

and yet her solace lays with a drunkard, who cares more about the drink and his own personal debts than he does her.  perhaps that's why she's so angry tonight  ––  why she wants to fight and smack him over the head with his own bottle.  there is nothing that is her own  ––  snow has stolen even her brother away and haymitch is the last sense of reality that she can manage to have.  every part of her aches because she wants him to understand, to want her just as much as she wants him  ––  and wants him sober when he says it, not when he's drunk and crying into the fabric of her dress.

eyes close and she counts for a moment, manages to get to five before she lets the shaky breath outward.  her hands are shaking and she grips at the fabric of her dress, tries to force themselves to stop.  but there is no way around the emotion that thrums everywhere through her ––  a hurricane of self loathing that clashes with his own and creates an even bigger storm.

❝  i just told you snow is demanding my cooperation.  do you know what that means?  ❞  her voice is steady, repeating things that she's already said, but that haven't soaked through like the drink has.  she swallows hard and moves so that she can crouch in front of him where he is seated  ––  her knuckles grip the fabric so tight that they have begun to go white.  ❝   that means i'm about to become the capitol's new favorite whore.  ❞

her voice trembles for a moment and the laughter that leaves her lips is bitter.   ❝  and yet all you're caring about is the drink.  you are a joke, haymitch.  and i'm a fool for ever thinking you might have an ounce of love for me.  ❞

[jungkookschin]

warrior jk pt 2.5 (warrior!jungkook x princess!reader)

warrior!jungkook's mood turns sour immediately proceeding his pleasant interaction with you. maybe it's his teenage angst, but he finds the whole situation bitterly ironic because you were the person he was actively trying to avoid, and you were the same person that he happened to run straight into.

he can't even go home and jump into his bed because his grandpa is taking such a long time conversing with your father, the emperor. so, he begrudgingly sits on a lounging chair that sits on one of the castle decks, and taps his foot on the ground, waiting until his grandpa calls him out.

thoughts are racing through his mind- mostly ones of confusion and jealousy. your careless demeanor when addressing him shows that you still didn't care much for him, so he has no idea why his heart craves for you. he has no idea why his heart aches in jealousy when you compared him to taehyung. he hates that the most. it is true that taehyung is undoubtedly one of his best friends- one of his brothers- but he is still bothered immensely.

because it's been you. it's always been you that's permeated his heart, mind, and soul. it's always been you that's maintained full control of his conscience, you that had the greatest power over him. it's always been you and he's mortified that he can't resist his feelings for you.

he can't resist that he thinks you're so cute, so precious, so adorable no matter how much you annoy him. he can't resist that he's sitting on this stupid lounge chair, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed - that he's upset because you did something as miniscule as compare him with taehyung. he knows he's being immature, but he can't help it.

thunk.

to his dismay, an apple is suddenly thrown onto the deck, and it rolls over to his sandals. he slowly picks the apple up, and blows onto it to get rid of the dirt residue. he knows that it's safe to eat- that it's not an enemy attempting to poison him because he undoubtedly, every single damn time able to sense when you are around. jungkook isn't considered top candidate of chief of the wind tribe for nothing- he's good at sensing any enemy's (or princess's) presence with mere intuition. but the fact that it's you and that his heart is soaring makes him so confused. confused in a way that makes his heart blossom.

when he sees your eyes peek up from underneath the desk, he rids himself of any animosity he was previously feeling. his heart melts as if your sunshine was sufficient enough to melt the icicles on his heart. "princess, what are you doing?" he asks softly. it was much different to how he was talking to you before.

"you saw me?" you ponder, which makes jungkook stifle laughter because you were making your presence painfully obvious. you climb up onto the deck, and lean against the railings. your lips are in a pout, and your eyes are wandering around- avoiding him.

"yes i saw you," he says, leaning back on the chair. a class smirk paints his face. "i've been trained in espionage, princess."

your cheeks puff up, and you huff. "did you get my apple?" you let out sheepishly. "it's-um it's an apology gift."

jungkook holds up the apple, and raises a brow at you. "an apology gift," he repeats, looking particularly unimpressed.

you shift your weight away and against the rails. "yes," you let out. "i'm-i'm sorry, jungkook. please forgive me?" and the pitch of your voice kinda raises at the end, and you're giving jungkook these stupid puppy eyes. and with your lips pouting so cutely, his eye practically twitches.

"sorry for what?" he asks, eyes boring into your own. he looks nonchalant, lips pursed in a thin line and eyes not conveying any particular emotion. but he's ecstatic that you've approached him- actually beaming.

"for comparing you to taehyung," you mutter almost immediately. "i didn't mean to make you feel like you aren't important to me- you are. i was waiting for you to write to me for months, and you never did," you elaborate, looking anywhere except him.

jungkook is perplexed- had no idea that you were waiting for him or that you were even thinking of him.

"refer to me as spoiled, but i like attention. when i saw you, i just wanted your attention, but you didn't even bat a lash at me- and it made me lash out because i really really missed you." tears are welling up at your water line, and jungkook feels horribly guilty. he realized he was so caught up in his own world that he never took a moment to consider how you feel. in his defense, he thought you were too caught up with your precious little taehyung to even think about him.

all he does is open his arms, leaning forward on the lounging chair. "c'mere and gimme a hug, princess."

when he sees you shift around a bit, he frowns before asking "please?"

and you practically waddle over to him, opening your arms to wrap them around his torso while he lovingly caresses your head. "i'm sorry," you mumble into his robe. "that was embarrassing."-

"no," jungkook softly interjects. "you never have to be embarrassed around me. never."

-

after that day, jungkook finds himself visiting the castle more often than ever. in fact he practically jumps on every opportunity to visit the castle, making his grandfather suspicious of his sudden enthusiasm, but jungkook just can't bring himself to care.

he just goes to hang out with you, for the most part. he follows you around like a lovesick puppy, and everybody notices it except you. he'll find himself doing childish things, like playing hide and seek with you when the two of you are bored, learning how to braid your hair, or helping you learn how to mount a horse.

he doesn't really have anything else to do, anyways. (that's a lie. jungkook’s heir of the wind tribe and has got a lot of responsibilities to attend to)

so one day, he's wandering around the castle, looking for you. he doesn't want to make it obvious that he's been looking for you for fifteen minutes, so he strolls around nonchalantly.

on cue, you pop up when he turns the corner of the castle's outside hall ways, which shocks him, but not really because he's used to your antics.

"jungkook!" you exclaim exasperatedly, running towards him before putting your hands on your knees to catch your breath. "jungkook- can't explain-" you inhale deeply "please protect me" exhale "he's coming" inhale. you're wearing your special occasion robes, a dainty yet opulent crown gracing your head. he thinks that something serious must have happened, considering your dramatic demeanor.

he furrows his eyebrows in concern, reaching his hand out to gently grip onto your wrist and pull him by your side. on cue, a familiar person turns the corner and bumps into you guys.

kim taejoon

namjoon's brother, and one of the princes of the fire tribe. he's got on his fanciest robes, black with perfectly painted flames distributed around its frays. his hair is adorned with in a bun, gold hairpins keeping it all together.

not this again, jungkook thinks to himself.

despite taejoon's brother namjoon being one of the coolest guys jungkook knows, he thinks taejoon's an idiot. he's got no physical or tactical skill let alone any competency in general. hopeless disgrace of the fire tribe, and ironically, one of your top suitors.

jungkook finds it pathetic that you've turned him down so many times, yet he relentlessly follows you, and yea he does the same, but you actually want him around.

"princess!" taejoon exclaims, approaching you and jungkook. "stop running away from me. you know you're so cute when you act like you don't want it?"

and when he takes a step closer, jungkook pulls you behind him, eyes glaring at the boy in front of him. "leave her alone, taejoon. she clearly doesn't want you around," he seethes.

"well if it isn't jeon jungkook of the wind tribe! long time no see jungkook!" and taejoon like the idiot he is, greets jungkook as if he was one of his old friends. jungkook may have known of taejoon since he was a boy, but he definitely doesn't consider him a friend.

but jungkook, familiar with how to manipulate his enemies for the wind tribe's political gain has been through situations like this before.he decides to drop the tough guy act, and play the nice guy act. being cordial with fake intentions is the best way to avoid conflict and maintain his best interest.

"taejoon! it's been a while. i came over last week to hang out with namjoon, but didn't see you there! what a coincidence to run into you now," jungkook fakes a smile, but uses both his hands to gently move your body and make sure you're secure behind his back.

"well i'll say! i was probably here talking to the emperor about creating relations with the princess," he smiles.

my ass, jungkook thinks. like the king would ever let that happen. jungkook recalls a conversation he'd had with the emperor when they were picking oranges merely a few days ago, where the emperor expressed his lowly opinion towards taejoon.

"oh?" a slight smirk paints jungkook's face. "why would the fire tribe be interested in creating relations with my girlfriend? has something happened to the flame act that namjoon negotiated?"

jungkook can't help but bask when taejoon's smile falters and his jaw drops.

"g-girlfriend?" taejoon chokes out. "y/n, darling, is that true?"

jungkook wants to gag at taejoon’s stupid nickname.

you take a quick peek from behind jungkook as if he was brick wall and then step out fully. honestly, you're shocked that jungkook came up with such an absurd lie, but impressed at the same time. honestly you would do anything to get this guy away from you

your face is the cutest crimson shade, and you're tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "y-yea," you shyly say.

fuck, if i admit she's cute then i lose, jungkook thinks, trying to stop himself from shielding you away from taejoon because this is a sight that only he should get to see.

"yea, taejoon, it's true. jungkook and i are dating, so i would greatly appreciate it if you would stop pursuing me," you do a little curtsy, and taejoon's face looks like it's exploding in anger.

taejoon hums, trying to make it appear as if his composure is maintained. "well, then let's duel for her," taejoon says smugly, and jungkook's mouth twitches. oh the things he would do to sock this guy in the face.

"y/n's not an object we can duel for," jungkook seethes, not processing the audacity of this guy.

"oh? you're scared?" taejoon remarks, an ugly smirk across his face. he draws his sword, and jungkook purses his lips. there's no way he was going to fight this guy in front of you. so jungkook does what he knows how to do best (among many other things), swiftly advances towards taejoon and disarms him, taking the sword in his hand.

he holds both ends of the sword and snaps it in half on his knee. "i find it quite revolting that you would attempt to shed blood in front of royalty," jungkook spits.

taejoon gulps, immediately apologizing before running away like the coward he is.

once taejoon is out of sight, jungkook turns to you. your arms are crossed and you've got the most endearing look of annoyance on your face. "he's so fucking weird," you complain, rolling your eyes.

"i agree," jungkook mumbles, and the two of you turn around, about to go off and do something, but you are both greeted by the emperor, he stands stiffly behind you.

jungkook immediately kneels, but you don't bother.

"dad!" you exclaim "can you please tell the fire tribe to start sending namjoon as a representative and not his creepy brother?"

the king laughs, his eyes moving towards jungkook's direction. "we wouldn't have to worry about him bothering you if jungkook here was always by your side," he remarks.

"i wish-"

the emperor cuts you off. "so jungkook, would you want to be y/n's body guard? i assure you a handsome pay."

jungkook can never say no, especially when you're right in front of him.

so that's how jungkook, at the age of fifteen became the bodyguard of the fourteen year old princess that he's in love with.

[everysongineverykey]

narrator and toriel exchanging tips on how to care for humans, especially stubborn and mischievous ones

it's ten at night and they're sitting (well, toriel is; the narrator can't "sit" anywhere perse) in toriel's new, sparse living room in her house on the surface as the crickets chirp outside and frisk sleeps soundly in the other room and it feels like the world's just sighed deeply, and everything's relaxing, and there are joke books and books on shrimp and snails lying around scattered on the table open to random pages and toriel chuckles and says, "my, your friend stanley sounds like quite the handful! although i find his dedication to the bucket admirable. it is good to have someone you can always rely on, no matter what others may do."

and the narrator scoffs and manages to pull off a very impressive verbal eye-roll, and says, "well, that'd be fine if anyone was actually trying to hurt him, but no one is! he's in no danger! he has absolutely no need to rely on a bucket!"

toriel frowns slightly. "did you not say, just a moment ago, that he was being... mind-controlled?"

"well- i mean- well, yes, in the past he was, before the story starts, but every single run starts him off at his desk, after the controls have been neutralized! he just has to walk down to the facility and turn them off for good! it's so unfathomably easy, and yet- and yet, he still manages to find ways to muck it up!"

halfway through, he remembers there's a child sleeping in the other room, and checks his tone, still adjusting to having to be conscious of the volume of his voice. it's a strange thing, being heard by real, feeling, speaking people.

fortunately, toriel doesn't seem to notice. unfortunately, her next question isn't easy to answer.

"has anything... undesirable ever happened to stanley under your watch?"

the narrator pauses, searching her unreadable face, thinking of something to say that won't totally ruin the atmosphere.

"oh, i do not mean to be rude!" toriel clarifies quickly, the perfect picture of motherly anxiety. "i only ask because... well... i have often found it... difficult raising humans in the past. i feel sometimes as if i will never... truly understand them."

this is a feeling the narrator knows all too well. "oh, i know exactly what you mean," he reassures her. "one time, stanley told me with a straight face that he genuinely believed a tractor was a bucket! and that nothing was a bucket! i swear, that obsession of his is getting the best of him!"

toriel is unable to contain her laughter, and the narrator congratulates himself on another Real Conversation Done Right. "why," he continues, "what've your humans gotten up to that's worried you?"

just like that, the mirth disappears from her face, and her features, though not having aged at all since her son died, suddenly look very worn.

it seems a long while before she replies, "every human child i have tried to raise leaves me and dies for it."

chirp, chirp, chirp. the cricket noise outside seems to grow louder in the oppressive silence that follows.

it's as if her sentence was scripted, edited for minimum length and maximum clarity, so if anyone asked she wouldn't have to explain it too deeply. if only the narrator had an instructional video on socializing he could watch to know what to say...

at a loss, he tries, "frisk's still here... aren't they?"

toriel smiles, and while the narrator isn't he best judge of monster facial expressions, he doesn't think they're usually supposed to look this sad.

"yes. frisk is still here. despite everything..."

she gives the child's bedroom door a long look, a look that carries too many emotions for the narrator to stuff into booths.

"despite everything," she continues, "frisk is still here. even after i fought them... even after i tried to trap them in the ruins forever... they chose to stay with me. but those seven children... they are not like your stanley. they cannot restart with the push of a button. they left. and they-"

she inhales suddenly and sharply, bringing a paw up to her face, and the narrator realizes she's about to cry.

the narrator is about to see someone cry in real life, for the first time ever. the thought shakes him, and he feels a sense of unease that he is sure fills the whole room.

(that's the problem with being everywhere at once- your emotions feel as omnipresent as your voice. it's not so bad, he thinks, when your only companion can't feel it, or speak to tell you it annoys him.)

she gives up on finishing the sentence, covering her eyes with her paw. she doesn't need to say any more. the rest is obvious: and they are never coming back.

to the narrator's surprise, she doesn't cry. not loudly, anyway. not in the sloppy, sob-ridden, theatrical way the narrator has only seen on television. no, she's just sitting there, paws rubbing her face, and from a distance you'd wonder if she was even crying.

suddenly, abruptly, she uncovers her eyes, which are now red and shiny and as glassy as stanley's, but they're shedding no tears. incredible, the narrator thinks. she can turn it off whenever she thinks it's her duty to be strong.

i wish i could feel as subtly as that, he thinks briefly before pushing the thought away.

"are you-" he starts tentatively.

"i am fine," she sniffs. "please, do not worry. i just... do not talk about this often. it is hard to-" she looks down, thumbing a page of one of the joke books. "-keep it all inside every day."

"but... you do?"

again that sad smile. what he wouldn't give for a happy one, like he's always dreamed of seeing. "yes. i do. i have no other choice. it is not something i can talk about with my friends, after all."

"i couldn't do that," the narrator says as softly as possible. "keep everything locked up like that. even if i did, my world would be affected if i felt too deeply about anything. the last time i started thinking in circles, the rooms started running in circles. if i kept something like that in all day..."

he trails off, deciding not to even imagine the effect one of his hypothetical breakdowns could possibly have on the game- and on stanley.

"fortunately," toriel murmurs, "nothing like that will happen if i spare my friends the burden of hearing a silly old woman cry over her past mistakes."

time passes. she's looking at the words in the joke book, but the narrator really doubts she's actually reading anything. based on his limited understanding of sapient beings other than himself, this is not right.

"if you'd like to talk about it," he offers, "i can do with something besides puns for a little bit."

she gives him a small smile in response, still not looking up. somehow, the narrator can tell it still isn't what a smile is supposed to look like- it doesn't quite reach her glassy eyes. he steels himself. alright. time to try a new maneuver.

"or, of course, we can keep reading from that book there. the one you're reading. i mean, i just felt, since you're so captivated by it..."

he recalls the comedy advice she's given him over the past hour, namely, please don't do anything you learned in that instructional video, and pushes on.

"...that you could use a tu-toriel!"

for a moment, her expression does not change- the narrator wonders briefly if all comedians' jokes are followed by a moment of silence to consider the quality of the joke- and then she does something that confuses him even further.

toriel scrunches up her face, covers her snout with her paws, and begins... crying? laughing? ...hyperventilating? he can't tell.

"i-i'm sorry," he stammers, "are- is that a laugh? are you crying? i'm truly sorry, i- i quite honestly can't tell."

at that, she doubles over, slapping her left paw on the table once very hard, and finally uncovers her mouth.

"oh, mister narrator!" she wheezes, "you truly have learned so much!"

...and, thank god, the narrator can see now that yes, she is laughing, and laughing hard at that- she crosses her arms over her stomach, giggling like it's the funniest thing she's heard in years.

and there's a smile on her face, a real smile. so this is what it's like to make someone smile, or laugh, the narrator thinks... he's always wondered. it feels nice, being the reason someone laughs. he can feel something bright rising up inside him... as if his very soul is glowing... it's almost as good as a perfect steam review.

(okay, maybe a little better.)

"yes," she sighs, calming down, "i have faith in you. your damaged sense of humour is, indeed... re-parable!"

the glowing something in the narrator grows two sizes, and whatever's been rising in him forces itself out... in the shape of an identical laugh. the sound's so ridiculous, it makes him laugh even more... if he had a body, he would make sure to slap his knee like they do in old human movies. that's always looked fun, he thinks.

her grin appears to grow at his reaction. it is nice, he thinks, to have some jokes besides your own to laugh at.

it takes them both a minute to calm down, but when they do, the silence is noticeably less heavy.

"i suppose," smiles toriel, "that stanley is not the humorous type?"

"no," the narrator replies, rather out of breath. "i told him bucket jokes for over an hour once. he didn't even flinch."

"do you think it is perhaps because you followed the rules of those instructional videos you mentioned?"

he sighs, but she can hear the smile in his voice. "oh, can you really blame me? they were the only point of reference i had. anyway, the jokes were funny! they were! i swear, i'll never understand him."

at that, toriel looks thoughtful. "they are confusing... are they not?"

the narrator's about to agree profusely, but then he recalls her question from earlier, the one that started them on this curious path in the first place...

he clears his non-throat, trying to adopt a more serious, yet not quite grave tone. god, he thinks, this is turning out to be harder than he ever expected.

"i..."

nothing comes to him. what could he possibly say?

i've lost stanley so many times, in so many ways, it's not funny? he never listens to me either, and he dies for it too? if you think YOU'VE failed as a guide, just wait until you hear about this incident with the staircase-

but some other part of him, the part that just saw a woman fall apart in seconds thinking of her regrets, rises up above these awful memories and steadies him, and for once, his worry doesn't expand to fill the whole space like a big balloon.

"yes?" toriel asks, searching the room for something to focus on in the absence of a real face and body.

"i think," he says, hoping it's obvious that he's not serious, "that humans are just about the weirdest damned creatures i've ever met. don't you?"

she stares into space for a moment, then fixes her eyes on the fireplace with a grin.

"you must admit, though, that they never cease to impress."

he laughs. "ha! 'impress' is one word for it. stanley once sword-fought an eldritch beast born from a bucket and WON!"

toriel giggles, clapping her paws. "i would love to meet this stanley of yours! he sounds like quite the character."

he's the MAIN character, the narrator thinks, and the best one i could ask for. he doesn't voice this thought.

suddenly, toriel's eyes light up. "in fact, i am certain he and frisk would get along splendidly! frisk would love their very own reassurance bucket!"

the thought makes the narrator chuckle and shudder in dread at the same time. "i'm sure they would. and that's why i don't know if that's such a good idea. didn't you say frisk fought the entire underground and won every time? i wouldn't want stanley getting strange ideas about rebellion or things like that-"

at that moment, the door to frisk's bedroom brushes open just a crack, making the narrator jump in his own metaphysical way.

the child still looks half asleep in their blue-and-pink striped jumper, one eye still squeezed shut and with a terrific case of bedhead as they lean on the doorway, and as they look around dazedly, the narrator reconciles their image with every stock photo of human children he's ever seen, and thinks: yeah, that checks out.

"mom?" frisk signs, their hands taking a minute to orient themselves, presumably out of tiredness. the narrator feels a tinge of guilt for waking them up. "i thought i heard you talking to someone..."

toriel blinks, seeming a little surprised, then moves quickly over to her sleepy child. "oh! oh, my, i am very sorry, my child... did we wake you?" she kneels down, smoothing their ruffled hair. "we will be quieter."

frisk looks past her, confused. "but... who are you talking to? i don't see anyone."

the awkwardness of having to interact with a child is just now hitting the narrator, he discovers as toriel attempts to explain the faceless, incorporeal, omnipotent, extradimensional being in their home.

"oh, no, my child, some things cannot be seen... mister narrator, would you say hello?"

oh. saying hello to a child. all right. this is fine. the narrator clears his head and says, "well, hello there, sport-o! smashing jumper you've got there! i hear you can cheat death. that affect your grades at all?"

toriel just stares. frisk fixates on one specific point on the floor, eyes wider than dinner plates at the sudden voice seemingly coming from nowhere.

really, thinks the narrator, he should be awarded for having no body and yet still somehow managing to very skillfully put his foot in his mouth.

(frisk's seen too much to be fazed, though. as far as they're concerned, a new person is a chance at friendship and some pie- both of which they receive in the hours after the narrator apologizes profusely.)

[buckybarnesdiaries]

white wolf: “the show must go on”

first part — second part

third part — fourth part (soon)

© gif credits to the author, i found it on google. if you're the author lemme know your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it’s a disaster, but he gets it.

word count: 1'9k.

warnings/tags: none. bucky being so innocent gives me life. + he being so damn cute as always.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Have plans with your girl tonight?”

Bucky clicked his tongue, putting down the weight to the holder, not turning to Sam still doing squats and an awkward noise out of breath. His partner couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and giggle while shaking his head, fast enough to steal the soldier's clean towel before he reached it.

“She's not my girl”.

“Not yet, you mean, uh?” He joked then, using the clothing like a whip to hit the metal arm. “But, you have plans or not?”

“Yeah, we have plans”. Bucky admitted eventually, glancing at Sam also stealing his bottle of water. “She invited me to watch a movie”.

It was the innocent and unworried tone of voice from him that made Sam choke, cough, and laugh at once.

“What?”

“Oh, man… Can't believe you're sinful enough to do what we do but too innocent to not see what that means”.

“It means we're gonna watch a movie”.

Bucky was confused at the laughter, trying to understand what he was referring to as he rested his back against the wall and crossed both arms over his chest. Expecting anything else from his wise friend.

“This is the twenty-first century, you ancient. We don't watch movies”.

“What d— What do you mean? You have Netflix, HBO, Prime Video… What's the point?”

Sam was deadpanned, staring in silence at the soldier, not believing what his ears were hearing. “We, guys, don't watch movies with girls, even less when they are the ones inviting us”.

Bucky squinted at him, tilting his head like a lost poppy would do, not being able to read between lines. His partner gasped exasperated, running a hand up and down his face.

“You know, man? Sometimes I feel alone, not having anyone to laugh with about that forties' manners of yours. Should I call Sarah, maybe?”

“Cut the show”. He hissed standing up and passing him away.

“Oh, no, no, no… the show has just started, man, and I have my popcorn ready”.

Bucky had been beating around the bush the whole day, trying to let it out of his mind. Of course, it was something that would happen sooner or later, and —more than of course— he wanted it to happen. The mere fact of thinking about you and him, flesh against flesh, hearing you moaning his name and making you feel good caused him goosebumps and an awkward sensation beneath his black jeans. Suddenly, swallowing saliva turned impossible, biting his lower lip while ringing the intercom of your apartment. Your response didn't last more than a couple of seconds, opening the door downstairs and waiting for him at the entrance of your apartment.

The butterflies fluttered within your bellies when Bucky stepped out of the lift, showing you that charming smile that could make you kill anyone who dared to erase it from his face.

“Trying to get me drunk?” You joked as he raised the bottle of red wine in his left hand.

“Maybe?”

“Missed you today”. You whispered at the soft kiss on your lips and his arm getting wrapped around your lower waist.

“So did I”. He sighed, sounding a little tired, caressing your nose with his.

Yesterday he talked to you about a routine medical check-up the government used to do every six months until he earned his pardon. Four hours of intense exercise to make sure the supersoldier serum was still doing its effect, as he started to feel somewhat tired since he stayed in Wakanda. For Bucky, it was really easy to open up himself with you and talk about his past and some of the things he did. And he didn't complain when you helped him to take off his leather jacket, watching him rubbing his left shoulder.

“I, uh… also was this morning with Sam. Training”. He told you, following you to your kitchen to find a couple of glasses. Turning at him, you couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Don't look at me like that… I know to perfection what you're thinking”.

“You're a telepath now?”

“God, no. I have enough with the voices inside my head, to hear someone's else”. He chuckled resting against the fridge. “But you're very expressive and I was trained to read body language”.

“So, what am' thinking?” You asked driven by curiosity, entertained on opening the bottle of wine.

“Look at this guy… He looks hotter than a barbecue”.

You broke into a loud laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed the drink and the glasses. “Not even close, Sergeant”.

“Liar”. He blurted into your face, passing him away to the living room where the Thai takeaway was waiting for the two of you.

“I'm not lying! You're a lousy body reader”.

“So… you can do it better, uh?”

“Didn't say so, but… yeah”. You replied, placing the wine and the glasses on the coffee table next to the big green sofa.

“Okay, go ahead. What am 'thinking, genius?”

Standing in front of him, some inches away, you squinted at his eyes in advance of touring his posture from top to bottom with your orbs.

“Look at that girl… she's hotter than a volcano”.

“Not even closer, soldier”. Bucky repeated your words, kissing his teeth and causing you to laugh again.

“Liar”.

The night went on, enjoying your dinner and watching the first part of Scary Movie. Since Bucky told you that he loved the horror genre, you thought that it'd be a good start. As you finished the Thai dishes, you two cuddled on your sofa, and it felt nice to be embraced by his muscly arms and had your head rested on his shoulder. He had never been that happier before, imagining for a moment —staring at you by the corner of his eyes— that he wasn't a retired lethal assassin controlled by a bunch of psychos, just a guy watching a movie with his girl.

For some reason that increased his pulse, having to clear his throat as the thought dried it. You couldn't let it go, wrinkling your nose with curiosity, raising your face slightly at Bucky trying to focus on the movie, and pretending everything was going okay.

“What?” He murmured about to laugh nervously, putting his head back a couple of inches to look better at you.

“Seems like you're gonna have a heart attack, what's the matter?”

The soldier breathed heavily through his nostril, expelling all the air in a sight through his parted lips. A lower giggle escaped them as your eyes widened a little more interested in his response to your question.

“Sam… Sam said something this morning”.

There it was. Your grimace turned skeptical, sitting up to borrow the control remote and pause the movie. Turning to face him and placing an arm on the headrest, you puckered your lips in a funny gesture watching him click his tongue.

“Things are different nowadays and… y'know, we used to watch movies”.

“And that's what we're doing”.

“Yeah, but… it's like… now there are some kinds of non-speak social rules”.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and seeing him somewhat troubled and tense just made your heart melt. It wasn't that he was scared, but it almost felt like.

“Is it your first time since the forties?” You dared to ask, clearly with no intentions of making fun of him.

“I've never really… y'know, I was in my twenties when I left Brooklyn. I me— mean, 'm not stupid, okay? I've done things but not… sex like… to the whole point”. Bucky didn't have his eyes on you when he made that confession, rubbing the bridge of his nose by inertia as his nervousness increased. “And now everything… is pretty different”.

“It doesn't have to”. You just replied, stretching a hand to his right one to intertwine your fingers. “Listen, Buck… We don't have to, okay? We don't have to do anything if you're not ready. We can watch the movie and then… you can go, or you can stay to sleep with me”.

“I'd like that”.

“Leave?”

“Yeah, totally, if you excuse me, ma'am… I gotta leave” He clearly joked, about to stand up until you pushed him down to the sofa bursting in laughter. “Nah, I, uh… I mean, I'd like to sleep with you tonight”.

“I'd like too, and to wake up tomorrow morning with you”.

“Yeah, would be very awkward if you go to sleep with me and wake up with another guy in your bed”.

Bucky smirked at you, biting his upper lip before leaning to press both on yours. He couldn't believe you were being so comprehensive with him, not making any other uncomfortable questions, nor kicking his ass out of your house. At that moment, he realized he was madly in love with you, bringing you closer to himself so he could embrace you tenderly between his arms. And you let him, not wanting anything else than to be with him.

At the moment the movie finished, you both stretched your hands to the ceiling with a yawn opening your mouths. You palmed his thigh to beckoning at him, urging the soldier to follow you as you rubbed your eyes using your knuckles, a little sleepy. Turning off the lights on your way to your room, you changed your clothes for a baggy Iron Maiden's t-shirt, as he stripped himself leaving his clothes on the chair in front of your bed, only wearing a pair of black boxers at the end.

You were about to ask him which side he preferred when the words died on your tongue, glancing at him with his flesh hand over his dark grey shoulder. It was the first time you saw the vibranium arm in all its glory and Bucky gave you the impression of being embarrassed. He'd never stop surprising you with plenty of emotions for things that for you didn't have any importance actually —like the fact of not having two real arms.

“Come here”. You murmured, kneeling on the mattress and palming the other lateral, observing every one of his actions till lying next to him, in the middle of the gloom of your room.

Covering both of you with the sheets and turning on your sides to face each other, Bucky took the initiative of wrapping you close to his chest, as he placed his head on your pillow. He couldn't help but take a soft breath from your heavenly smell impregnated in, provoking a smile to grow on your lips. Surrounding his neck with your arms, you sunk your fingers in his short hair, gently caressing his scalp while you started to spread tender short kisses all around his face.

“This feels good”. He purred with such a pleased tone of voice, closing his eyes as he adventured his warm hand under your shirt to draw invisible patterns on your back.

“So good”. You affirmed, peppering his cheek with a bunch of noisy smooches.

Bucky squeezed you between his grip, hiding his face into the gap of your shoulder and neck, causing you goosebumps because of his exhalation against your skin. He was comfortable being that close, with no distance separating your chests and your legs intertwined in a bundle. You saw how relaxed he was when he pulled his head back to the pillow, noses touching and his eyelids closed.

“Good night, Buck”. You whispered, still feeling his caresses on your back, leaning to kiss him one last time.

“Good night, doll”.

a / n: i hope you have enjoyed the fluffiness of these three chapters because the fourth is gonna be... chaotic.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

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