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#i didnt mean to make this so angst lol
hannieehaee · 5 months
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not sure if you’ve done this before, i’m sorry if you have but svt and their s/o fighting bc of a misunderstanding?
fighting because of a misunderstanding
content: established relationship, mentions of arguments, pettiness, angst but nothing too serious, etc.
wc: 790
a/n: since this was such a general idea i went in a different direction with all of them and how they'd react if you or he had a misunderstanding and then it led to a fight. hope u enjoy <3
masterlist
seungcheol -
he seems super stubborn so i think that if he misunderstanding was on his side, he'd try to brush it off and pretend he didn't realize what the issue was. would try and drag it as long as possible due to embarrassment at his mistake, but it'd just create a bigger fight. eventually, though, he'd swallow his pride and admit fault.
jeonghan -
he'd gaslight you the entire argument and end up winning ... just kidding he'd actually be really open to admitting his faults and excusing you in your own T-T even if it had all been caused bc of a misunderstanding he'd still be willing to talk it through and resolve it. would NEVER go to bed if u guys hadnt resolved things.
joshua -
he's so annoyinjwhdjsks i think he'd be super annoying in fights so he'd take any bit of ammunition he could get. whether the misunderstanding was on his part or not, he'd still somehow argue it to his advantage. if things got out of hand, he'd wave the white flag and call a truce.
jun -
just confused the whole time. had he missed something or done something without realizing? his first instinct would be to be apologetic (even if he didnt fully understand how this argument had come to be). if he at some point realized either you or him had simply misunderstood the other, he'd just let it go, being content that you had already resolved it.
soonyoung -
lol i think he'd immediately act like wounded puppy the moment he realized that a fight had formed between the two of you. would do gymnastics in his head trying to figure out how you got here, only to realize that it had all been due to some misunderstanding between the two of you. he wouldnt care who was to blame, he'd just take responsibility if it meant the two of you could cuddle again.
wonwoo -
he's so in touch with his emotions and such an empathetic soul that i cant even imagine a fight breaking out with him, even if it was caused by a misunderstanding. like jeonghan, he'd be super open to talking it out and would never try to antagonize you during fights. had it all been caused by a misunderstanding, he'd still be very calm and understanding about it all, even taking blame if necessary.
jihoon -
gives me the vibe that he'd rather ice you out than actually get into a fight. this would, of course, only make things worse. he'd stand his ground, though, convincing himself that it'd be better to wait for you to go to him. after a few days of silence for both sides, he'd realize his mistake and have to crawl back to you with an apology.
seokmin -
would be so disheartened at the concept of fighting in the first place lol. he'd be willing to get on his knees to stop whatever argument was going on. he'd take on the blame of any misunderstanding if it made you happy.
mingyu -
another wounded puppy. would pout and whine and not really take the fight seriously, just wanting things to go back to normal so that he could hold you. would apologize for any fault of his and entice you into forgetting about whatever misunderstanding had come up.
minghao -
not sure if this is an unpopular opinion but i feel like he might be a lil bit stubborn when it comes to arguments. he might let his emotions get the best of him (he's a scorpio ..) and need some time to cool off before having a productive conversation. he'd have to hold himself back a bit in the case of a misunderstanding but would still never be mean nor disrespectful during fights.
seungkwan -
if for some reason you had picked a fight with him due to a misunderstanding on your part, he'd never let you live it down. would bring this up in future arguments (lightheartedly obviously!!) to give himself an advantage in any fight. would claim you had a previous record of being wrong.
vernon -
he's too chill to ever get into a serious fight. he'd be willing to admit fault pretty easily, but he'd also stand his ground when necessary. whenever a misunderstanding came up, he'd try to be the voice of reason and be open to criticism.
chan -
lol have you seen him when he banters with his members? he never backs down and he'd give you the same treatment. would argue til the end, even if things ended up getting a bit heated. in the end, though, he would calm down and understand that misunderstandings such as these needed to be taken care of with more tact and would apologize if he got too intense.
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starlightazriel · 26 days
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bee 9
series desc: modern best friends > lovers (fem reader) tattoo artist az
warnings: 18+, az acting crazy and toxic haha, arguing/angst, just the beginning of the groveling, simp behavior hahaha, drug/alcohol addiction, reader struggling, heart break, time jumps, aa, depression mess, az is literally falling apart at the seams, don't expect good decisions from reader lol she's hurting that's all ima say
a/n: wow I know I ain't shit this took me so long I'm sorry angst central too ik
wc: 3.8k
other parts can be found on my az masterlist <3
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nine
"Say the word Bee, I'll knock on his door and knock him out." His jaw was tight, eyes dark with the desire to inflict pain. Real pain, sometimes that side of Azriel scared me, these days it would only make my panties wet.
"Im fine Az," I wiped tears from my face with the back of my sleeve, my chest tightened slightly at his willingness to put himself at risk for my naivety. "Hes not worth it anyway," I added, trying desperately to swallow the lump in my throat.
"Well that youre right about. Tried to tell you he didnt deserve you," he pauses, his face looking displeased. There's a moment of silence and it made me wish I had the courage to fill it with my feelings for him. "Please stop looking so sad though. Bings will help," he smirks, trying the only way he knew how to lighten the mood, he held up his bong, already freshly packed. I sighed softly, letting a small smile tug at the corner of my lips despite the ache I felt in my chest.
"Yeah they might," I smirk a little bit, and take the bong from him, taking one of my little baby hits, I shove the bong back in his direction, coughing obnoxiously despite the small hit. Normally he would make fun of me, I figured he was sparing me the embarrassment in light of the current situation.
"I can kick his ass," he repeats and I just shake my head at him. I didn't doubt it either— when it came to me, Az didn't have any limits. He would go down swinging for me, no matter who it was.
Thinking back on that memory... It made me feel sick, that now he was the one to hurt me.
I had made the mistake of trusting Azriel too much. I knew better. I knew he wasn't ready for this and still I let myself live in some little fantasy world for weeks. And now... Now I was dealing with the consequences.
My heart was shattered.
Incomparable to my insignificant couple of break ups in the past... This was so much worse.
Az... My Az. Maybe not my Az after all.
He clearly couldn't even handle a relationship.
Or maybe... The alternative made my stomach sink.
Maybe he knew the entire time that he was moving and he was just passing the time until he did? Az wouldn't do that... Would he?
You can know someone forever... As soon as there are drugs involved... Well, nothing is guaranteed.
It seemed to be just as hard for me to admit that he had a problem than it was for him. I hated it, but this pain— it made me see things more clearly, see him more clearly.
I couldn't bring myself to block him. I did have to turn my phone off for a while because not picking up was just becoming hard. 39 missed face time calls, 12 missed regular calls, and a handful of text messages that I was leaving on read.
baby please just talk to me
i'm so sorry shit was so fucking stupid
please come home
bee i swear i'll come over there and drag you out of that house by your hair
you know i didnt mean that
im sorry
i need you bee, don't shut me out
just talk to me
i'll stop drinking so much i'll do whatever please just fucking talk to me
cass is a fucking idiot nothing happened i swear baby i didn't fuck anyone.
The messages were spaced out minutes between some, hours between others. I couldn't help myself when I typed out a reply to the last one.
how do you know you didn't fuck anyone? do you even remember? You were getting your fucking grind on with a random ass bottle girl. or maybe she wasn't random lol who fucking knows with you. and you had your face in tits Az. Tits. WERE TOUCHING YOUR CHEEKS. AND YOU WERE SMILING LIKE YOU LOVED EVERY FUCKING SECOND. AND I BET YOU DID CUS YOU LOOKED HIGH OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND.
It was only seconds before he read it and was typing.
i didn't fuck anyone. i only want you. i'm just a dumbass. bro please do not do this shit to me. i will do ANYTHING to make this up to you that's on literally everything.
And another one.
you don't have a choice anyway and i swear if i catch you outside with any of these mother fuckers yo youre both done
And another.
its not a threat its a warning don't play with me
I groaned in frustration and tossed my phone to the side. It was all so... Exhausting. My chest quite literally hurt. And the audacity, please don't do this to him?
He did this to us.
And why the fuck did he think he owned me? I hated that it made my heart flutter— bottle girls, titties, Vegas. I reminded myself.
Sick.
I had confessed everything to my mom the first day I had came back to my parents house, which in hindsight I wished I hadn't. Knowing me... I would be back in Azriels bed within days of being back, my cheeks burned at the thought. No matter what he did, it didn't change the way I now knew how he could make me feel.
She had always loved Az, since day one... He had practically been a part of our family at one point, joining our family dinners every night, even my dad and him had a certain respect for each other. 'Some people are just better off as friends,' was my mom's response to the whole ordeal. Maybe she was right, but I didn't like it, not now.
How could we go back to that?
Was it possible to go back to that?
-
The stress, the heaviness of my heart... I couldn't stop myself from swiping a cig from my dad's secret stash in the garage. I was now sat on the rocking chair on my parent's front porch, debating on what I was going to do when I returned home. I had to go soon, it had already been weeks now I was starting to dip into my old wardrobe.
I had been commuting to class even though it was much farther than Azriel's apartment. I just didn't know what to say when I saw him. I didn't even know how to bring up the fact that I knew he was moving. Did he plan on telling me? What had been his plan for my living situation if he didnt have the apartment anymore? Had he even thought about it?
"So you're smoking now?" his voice causes me to jump, my heart nearly leaping from my chest as my head snaps to Azriel who's standing there, one hand shoved in his pocket other hand gripping a small bouquet of flowers. Scarred fingers against delicate stems, my cheeks turned pink remembering what he had done to me with those fingers. That feeling soon turned to anger remembering what he else he had done, he's frozen now, maybe half way up the stone path leading to my parents front door.
"Jesus Az what the fuck?" I breathed out, exhaling a shaky breath, my tone laced with a venom I had never used with him before. "You scared the fuck out of me, what are you even doing here?"
"You know what I'm doing here," his voice is soft but slightly strained, my stomach twists at the pain I can feel, radiating off of him. I didnt know how he did that, he was always able to change the air around me— like I was so hyper aware of him that I could sense his feelings.
"Az-"
"I love you," he cuts me off, my breath hitches, his cheeks are slightly pink, hand still shoved into his pocket. I set the burning cigarette down on the can beside me, I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat.
So long.
I had waited to hear those words for so fucking long. And now, here, under these circumstances— it didnt feel how I imagined it would. It didnt feel how it was supposed to.
"I love you too Azriel you know I do but I-"
"But what? You dont want me because Im so fucked up right?" His voice drops slightly, his throat bobbing and I noticed his grip tighten on the bouquet in his hand. His face was soft— pained, and my heart cracked again, remembering that boy so many years ago bruised and bloody with that same heartbroken face of betrayal, and now I had done that to him. "Im sorry, Im so fucking sorry please—"
"I didn't say that," I mumbled, my heart felt like it was bleeding in my chest, like there would be nothing left once he walked away. He didn't dare to step closer. "I just- I need some time Az," I mumbled softly and he closed his eyes for a minute before tugging at his hair, huffing out a frustrated breath. He looked like he would get down on his knees for me, like he would beg me if I asked him to.
"I know what that means Bee," he huffs out another small breath, his face slowly contorting into that hard cold stare I knew him to hide behind. "Anyway," he breaths out, looking away from me. "I'm going to change your mind, we—" he struggles again before giving up, I could see his eyes were bloodshot as he got closer, dark circles prominently underlining them. "Here," he finally says, he shoves the bouquet in my hand, there was an envelope taped to the side of it with my name on it.
"I'm coming home soon Az," I mumble, though, I didn't even know if I was ready for the conversation the two of us would be having. "I told you we could talk then," I add and he sighs, stepping back off of the porch.
"I'll see you soon then," he muttered softly and just shrugged his shoulders, I could tell he wanted to run to me... He wanted to wrap me in his arms and kiss me. He wanted to strangle me also— I could see that too, that deep rooted need for control, to make me see things his way. I couldn't blame him— it stemmed from years of physical abuse, traumas I would never truly be able to understand.
"Go home Az. Goodnight, thank you, for the flowers," is the last thing I say before walking back inside shutting the door behind me, in his face. I didnt watch him walk away, that short conversation had been painful enough. I put the flowers in some water and tore open the mini envelope despite how angry I was with him.... Seeing him, made me crave him so much more.
'I could lose every single thing I have in this world but I can't lose you. I miss you. Please stop shutting me out. I can't take much more of this Bee.'
His handwriting was rushed— desperate messy scrawl, guilt twisted in my gut. I couldn't help it... I had nothing to feel guilty about and yet... Imagining him alone, needing me, missing me... Enough to buy flowers and scribble out a little note. More than I'd ever seen him do for any other woman.
I couldn't fall for it.
My chest tightened and tears welled up in my eyes. Why did he have to fuck everything up? It had been so perfect. Leave it to a fucking man to ruin everything.
-
Azriel swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he stared blankly in front of him at all of the faces looking back at him. His palms were sweaty, ears hot with embarrassment and he couldn't stop tapping his foot. He had opted not to get up and stand at the front, feeling much more secure in his seat toward the back of the room.
"Hi, uh, my name is Azriel, I'm twenty five, and Im um— Im an alcoholic," it was the first time he'd ever said it out loud, it tasted horrible on his tongue. "I've um I've been addicted to drinking alcohol probably for about ten years- Got me into other- shit and I'm here today because I fell in love with my best friend and um- I don't want to lose her. Never tried to quit drinking before— never really believed I had a problem but— yeah, here I am," his voice had gotten quieter as he finished and he realized he was rambling. His cheeks burned, he hated all the eyes on him, hated that he was the center of attention. And he was craving a line, bad.
His introduction was followed by many 'Hi Azriels,' which only made him feel more uncomfortable. They tried to make him feel welcome, tried to relate to him— get him to open up. He thought he might explode but he listened though. He listened to each and every persons story that shared. And when it was over the leader gave him a small white chip, service, unity, recovery. A pledge to a new beginning, toward sobriety.
He sighed and shoved it into his pocket, he was sitting on the step now, to go coffee cup in his hand, black obviously. Isn't that what recovering alcoholics did? Drink black coffee and smoke cigarettes?
"Can I bum one?" a male voice asks and next thing he knows he's sitting down next to him, he was a bit older, maybe 40.
"Sure," he mutters and pulls a cigarette from the pack and extends it to him, he recognized him from inside the meeting.
"It's Max, if you didn't catch it in there."
"Azriel," he mumbles, looking straight ahead at the cars passing by. He didn't know how to feel. He didn't want to get sober. But he needed Bee. He couldn't lose her, after getting a taste? He couldn't handle not having her again. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
"You need a sponsor?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, Azriel shrugs, the new sobriety coin felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. The anxiousness... The insatiable desire to rid himself of any of his uncomfortable feelings by doing a line and buying a bottle... How the hell was he supposed to stay sane?
"You going to be my sponsor?"
"First things first, don't wear a cocaine vile around your neck to an AA meeting."
-
I was quiet, careful when I slowly pushed open the door to Azriels apartment, my apartment too, I guess. Not for long.
It didn't feel like home anymore— the sickening feeling that twisted in my gut as I took a step inside. It was quiet, he wasn't home... Fucking filthy. There was pizza boxes and take out containers, ash everywhere, multiple ash trays made from various things, there were unfinished cigs and blunts everywhere that made it smell awfully of cigarettes and stale weed. Cocaine residue and half crushed pills were out on the coffee table like it was normal. I swallowed thickly, a soft breath leaving my lips I knew I shouldn't feel guilty, shouldn't feel bad that he obviously wasn't okay... But I did, I just left him. Never, never had I ever done that to Azriel. I was the one constant in his life, the one person who was always there. Ever since that day in front of my house all those years ago.
Titties, bottle girls, moving to Vegas. I reminded myself, my stomach turned again. So angry. Fucking idiot.
I entered the kitchen for a glass of water, needing something to calm that sick feeling. The bile that rose in my throat that felt like I was about to hurl everything I ate for the past three days. I thought better of it quickly, before I consumed anything from this rancid kitchen I would need to deep clean and disinfect.
Dirty dishes in the sink, the dishwasher hanging open half loaded still with clean dishes like he had just been taking them from there and hadn't bothered to put anything away, empty liquor bottles overflowing from the small recycling bin, more take out containers, a bong tipped over, the foul smelling water from it still dripping off of the counter, a small puddle of brownish water collected on the white tile.
What the fuck?
My room was the only room that didnt smell like bong water and cigarettes, but still, he had been in here. Maybe even slept in here. Papers covered the floor, not just papers but drawings. There were drawings of me everywhere. Just me, me naked, him and I together, kissing, fucking, our hands intertwined— there were even drawings of us when we were younger. A little messy, like he had been pressing down so hard— drawing with such emotion that he kept breaking his utensil of choice that day.
I let out a soft sob, my hand flying to cover my mouth.
Fuck.
Kat. I needed Kat.
I tried to swallow the growing lump in my throat again and pulled my phone out to check her location. Of course she was at the shop.
-
"Hey," the bells chime softly as I walk into the shop, there was no one in the waiting room besides Kat and she looked up from her phone, our eyes locking.
"Heyyy baby," she greets, flashing me a smile that soon turns into a frown, her eyebrows drawing together. "Are you good?"
"No," I loosed a shaky breath, advancing to the counter, I leaned against it like I had so many times, but my chest was fucking aching. It was so fucking infuriating that nothing felt the same, nowhere felt the same. I guessed this was what heart break really felt like, seeing the world in every color one day and then black and white the next. "Is he here?" I dropped my voice lower, playing with one of the knick knacks on the desk to distract myself.
"No, he left a while ago, didnt say where he was going," she's still frowning, the worried look still plastered on her face.
"The house Kat?" I paused, making a face. "It's fucking disgusting, I don't understand how hes living like that," my harsh words could have only been brought on by anger, she softens, her look turning more sympathetic which annoys me only, I ignore it.
"He hasn't been the best at work either— snapping on everyone, late every day and fucked up," she lets out a small sigh, "Rhys is fucking pissed," she pulls her lip between her teeth.
"Fuck Rhys, honestly," I mutter quietly, she raises an eyebrow in response but I only ignore it. Of course, none of this was his fault, but still Vegas. Why fucking Vegas? "It's my turn to get fucked up, anyway, that's why I'm here I bought a bottle to pregame, just needed my bitch and one of her miniskirts," my words are met with a grin.
"Babes you know I got you."
-
I hadn't been drunk in a while, so to say the least I was enjoying myself. The pounding of the music, talking to strangers, dancing with Kat. I had needed all of this.
To slip out of my mind for a few hours and just let go.
Kat was definitely enjoying herself now too, and was dancing with some tall sexy man she had just met. I was keeping to myself for the most part, on the edge of the dance floor, swaying my hips to the music as I surveyed the scene with a fuzzy mind.
My mouth popped open in slight surprise and when I felt curiosity instead of the desire to leave immediately, I knew I had drank too much. There was Eris, in all his jewelry and expensive clothes, looking poised and composed as always. Long pale ringed fingers wrapped around a glass of amber liquid. I hadn't seen him since the night we shared.
"You ghosted me princess."
"I had other things going on— and I didnt finish," I smile boredly, not meeting his gaze, it must have been the liquor making me so bold, he scoffs slightly his eyebrows raising in surprise.
"Let me buy you a drink then, to make up for it, must have been an off day for me," he inquires, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction that my body was basically broken with anyone except for Azriel, I would let him believe it was his fault. His ego could be taken down a peg, anyway.
"I have one already," I raise it up slightly, smirking as I swirl the liquid around in the cup.
"Not anymore," in a swift motion he takes the glass from my hand and dumps the drink in a near by plant, a fake plant. I squeaked, looking around to see if anyone else had witnessed it.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? It's fake and you just filled it with liquor and juice! Have you even heard of a fruit fly?" I demanded, swaying a bit on my feet, liquor buzzing through my veins. If anyone did that at my bar, I scoffed slightly at the thought staring him down judgmentally for his utter carelessness.
"It's fake, so the liquor won't kill it," he flashed me his insufferable sexy grin before adding "there's wins and losses to every decision we make," his eyes flashed and I stopped for a moment, weighing those words.
No, I can't get caught up in this. I had to figure out what was going on with Azriel and I. "And now you don't have a drink and I get to buy you one, so I win, Im not really concerned nor do I care about any of the losses. Besides, I only ever come here looking for you, so I don't care if they get fruit flies." That cocky smirk he wore, the way he carried himself... He did look good. That piercing gaze, the confidence that radiated off of him along with his expensive dizzying cologne.
I remembered what Az had said about him 'theres a lot of people that would kill him in this city' hearing his words echo in my head, knowing how much he hated that I'd been with Eris... I swallowed, my cheeks turning pink.
Az didnt care when he was fucked up, when he was smushing his face between those two bottle girls titties he didnt think about me at home— waiting for him.
So I wouldn't care now.
I didnt think about him, I didnt think about what it would do to him when I wrapped my fingers up into Eris expensive shirt and yanked his tall frame down to me.
"Wins and losses you say?" I whisper before pressing a kiss to his lips.
-
a/n: cliffhangerrr only time and comments will tell if yalll are mad about this drama HAHA sorry I had to drag the groveling out into multiple parts Az WILL be on his KNEES in the near future
taglist <3: @smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta @honk4emoboyz @bookishbishhh @dakotali @blessthepizzaman @scooobies
IF ANYONES TAG DIDNT WORK IM SO SORRY
210 notes · View notes
sturnsmadl · 14 days
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enemy!chris headcannons!
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warnings!-mostly just angst and chris being a huge dick, swearing, mentions of self harm, slight bodyshaming, bullying, mentions of nudes, kissing, male masturbation, mentions of sex, light fluff, player chris.
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enemy!chris who hates all your boyfriends and ex's.
"wheres the ugly guy your always with lately?"
"we broke up.."
"thank god. he bored the shit out of me."
enemy!chris who makes you feel like shit for fun.
"im gonna go get lunch if you wanna-"
"of course you are. always eating."
enemy!chris who still denys he likes you.
"your in love with her. we all see it."
"no im not.."
"the denial is crazy."
enemy!chris who doesn't let you go on dates.
enemy!chris who constantly makes sneaky comments.
enemy!chris who is always looking at your body.
enemy!chris who never lets you get your own way.
"can we go target instead?"
"oh yeah! i love-"
"actually walmarts good."
"can you just fucking decide?!"
enemy!chris who makes excuses like crazy.
"i was drunk." "i dont know. i was tired." "phone got hacked."
enemy!chris who you regret hooking up with.
"wasnt saying all this when you were under me."
"shutup. i regret that everyday."
"oh.."
enemy!chris who goes through your phone while your asleep.
enemy!chris who is always harsh with you.
"im gonna go to the gym when i-"
"thats a shocker."
enemy!chris who blocks all the boys off your phone.
enemy!chris who always asks for you to send.
"hi."
"what?"
"you tryna send something?"
enemy!chris who doesn't let you get a word in.
"oh nick did i tell you about-"
"god no one fucking cares..shut the fuck up for once."
enemy!chris who hooks up with girls all the time so you know your just a number.
"u said i was.."
"different? yeah. i say that a lot huh?"
enemy!chris who breaks your lock when he finds out you hurt yourself.
"fuck..where are you?!"
"bathroom.."
enemy!chris who keeps an eye on you at parties.
enemy!chris who shows you up when your in a group.
"i got this new shirt and its like-"
"suprised you could afford it."
"chris.."
enemy!chris who feels slightly bad when he finds you crying because of his words.
"are you...okay..?"
"do i look okay?!"
"uhh..no..?"
enemy!chris who stares at you when you scream at him.
"AND YOU CANT KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS CAN YOU?!"
"well..i-"
"EVERYTIME I TRY SPEAK YOU HAVE TO INSULT ME!!"
enemy!chris who kisses you to shut you up.
"chris your really starting to-"
kisses you
enemy!chris who hugs you to his chest when you cry.
"shh..your okay.."
"its not i-"
"your getting makeup on my white shirt."
"oh fuck off chris."
enemy!chris who gets caught jerking off to your pictures.
"fuck!..nghm..y/n.."
"chris have you seen-"
"what?! get out!!"
enemy!chris who finally admits everything.
"sorry..i was just too scared to admit my own feelings.."
"oh..i mean..nick said-"
"doesnt matter. im sorry."
enemy!chris who actually feels guilty.
"but..you said all that stuff so quick like you didnt even think.."
"i know..i didnt mean it. i was just a dick."
enemy!chris who loves make-up sex.
"yeah? fuck your tight..you feel that?"
"yeah! fuck chris.."
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a/n this is a lot but its kinda my favourite one lol. i like angst so thats probably why :) needed to put some warnings which i probably should from now on for all tbh. im very aware that chris would never act like this!!! mafia matt might be out tommorow depends how im feeling tbh.
taglist! @bellaonthelow @hrtsdollie @moonk1ss3d @sturnclouds @christophersgf @ellizzyy @fratbrochrisgf @phoenix062 @pixxiies @conspiracy-ash @blahbel668 @monroesturnns @gwennybenny @sturnobsessedwh0re @xoxo4chriss @pixie-sticks-are-good @wurlibydominicfike @anitahunt @ilusa @mattstrombolii @stvrlighht @asherrisrandom @amelia-sturniolo3
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akoyaxs · 10 months
Text
Tì'eylan ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!human!reader ✮ Trope: Friends to lovers ✮ Word Count: 16k ✮ Tags: mentions of sexual partners, talk of sex, size difference, fluff, Aonung's pov (kinda mega horny for her), jealously, lap sitting, accidental stimulation, masturbation (m), slight slight angst if you squint, kissing, biting, munchiness, coming untouched, p in v, nicknames (Aonung calls reader tsawksyul, which means sunlily) ✮ A/N: so I kinda went a little overboard with this one - idk what to tell you - i had a lot to say and ngl had a lot of daydreams during boring classes that i didnt have time to turn into writing till now (>﹏<) Also lol, I'm on holiday w my family rn so writing this at times was quite risky but anyway, HOPE YOU ENJOY MY DARLINGS, I REALLY LIKED WRITING THIS ONE <3
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Never in a million years would you have suspected that you’d end up close friends with Aonung.
When you met him, shielded by the somewhat brotherly protection of Neteyam and Lo’ak, Aonung had been indifferent to you at the very best, and taunting and infuriating for the first few weeks in Awa’atlu.
All it took was a few skirmishes, several unorthodox verbal arguments, and one fucked up altercation with other humans for Aonung to get off his high horse of hazing the newbies.
You weren’t sure if it was Neteyam’s near-death and your inconsolable distress over it, or the closeness of you getting nearly kidnapped by the Recoms (the “pretty traitor” as the had called you left little to imagination of what sort of fates you would have met with the RDA), but there on that empty beach, watching the sun set in the safety of the village bay, left alone or maybe even forgotton, you had found his ridiculously tall form approaching.
Aonung sat slowly and silently beside your smaller, disconcerted figure. After a wordless moment, in which you continued to absently stare out at the empty horizon, he had placed a soft, woven blanket over you.
It was a little rough, but of course he didn’t mean to be. Moreover, it had just been a wordless loan of something quite too large for your human figure – so much so you were practically drowning in it – but the weight was warm and reassuring, as, surprisingly, was his still, quiet presence hulking beside you.
“Thank you.”
Your whisper – feeble and weak even to your own ears – would have been lost in the breeze and lapping waves, but you later reminded yourself of na’vi’s superior senses, as he let out a small sound of acknowledgment, silently noting how shaken you still were.
“Are you alright?” he had asked, following your unspoken rule and also quietly watching the ocean, and more importantly, keeping his gaze from your pale, unnerved face.
“Yep.”
And that had been just that.
No more words had been spoken, not so much as a glance or gesture was offered, but something had changed as the unlikely pair of you sat in ponderous silence, watching the gilded horizon.
You never really discussed the hiccup at your initial meeting (and the period that had followed before friendship was forged), but you never needed to. Aonung had wordlessly conveyed his apology, as had you accepted it.
It is an uncomplicated friendship; time spent together is full of teasing and laughter and often petty argument, and time spent apart is to gather new material to discuss, to scheme up new ways to make the other’s life an amusing hell, and of course to just fuck around.
Which leads to one fact; Aonung is a slut.
You could tell it from the moment you saw him, even before knowing his desirable position in the clan or noting the lovesick-lustful looks the village girls couldn’t tear off their faces when he was within eyesight. It’s not just obvious through his physical appearance (although, admittedly, that is the work of the lord), but through his walk and talk and everything in between.
Even before your friendship, you knew Aonung was off with a different girl every few days, and said girl would always then labour under the deulusion she alone captured the lustful gaze of her future Olo’eyktan – something that always reminded you not to fall for your friend in his hopelessly infuriating slutiness.
It came as no surprise to you when your theory of you friend being Pandora’s biggest slut was proved to be quite true, so you aren’t entirely sure why the outlines of your love life came as quite the shock to the Metkayina man.
“Tell me,” he says with a small, ponderous frown, as though something had just occurred to him, though you knew this look perfectly well to guess what he was about to say was not some casual thought that slid nonchalantly into his mind. “How have you been taking care of yourself?”
You look wearily up from your beadings to squint at him – all stretched out and full of lazy curiousity on the woven mat of your marui. This is how you often spent the warm afternoons in Awa’atlu; you beading or mixing herbs or cooking or something actually useful, while your friend bothers you.
You were still too weary of actually swimming with people, surrounded by beautiful, tall, slim, lithe na’vi girls, and although Aonung had tried to convince you a million times, those bikinis you brought with you remained secretly stowed away deep in the darkest parts of your marui.
Sometimes at night, you would slip out the walkway of your marui into the cool ocean below, but careful that there’s no one around to see. At least it meant na’vi were absolutely shocked to say the least when they saw just how curvy human bodies could get without your flowy clothing.
“What are you on about?” you sigh. “I’m perfectly healt-”
“I meant physically,” Aonung says casually. “Maintaining yourself sexually.”
Oh.
Your friend did have a habit of being carelessly blunt in his manners, but that was one thing that managed to take you by surprise.
“What do you think?” you laugh, throwing off your disconcertion and far too used to your friend - and all na’vi really - disregard for topics very much taboo for humans to be thrown off by the quite personal question.
“Well…” he shifts closer to gage your expression, a small furrow creasing his brow. “You are the only tawtute here, and I’m sure even your kind have sexual needs that must be met. So how…”
“Do I cope when I get horny?” you finished, raising your brows and wrinkling your nose at him. Aonung nods, throat looking a little tight but otherwise unbothered by the delicacy a conversation like this should typically have. “What sort of answer are you looking for, Aonung?”
He blinks, then shakes his head in a puppyish way and you grin.
“I don’t just take care of me myself, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you answer elusively.
You never told Aonung the truth. The truth that you have no shortage of Metkayina men offering to deal with your sexual desires, lost in their own curiosity of human-na’vi sexual experimentation.
And you’d be lying if you pretended you weren’t attracted to them. How could you not be?
Na’vi were nine to ten feet of practically pure muscle, cloaked in beautiful, smooth blue skin and glimmering with pretty glowing tahnì. They were slim and wire, agile and graceful in their movements and talented beyond anything a human could ever possibly possess.
So, discreetly, you would indulge in all sorts of capers. It was, admittedly, a lot of fun.
Sometimes you’d be offered pretty little gifts, clumsily complimented on your human looks and talents, or even simply carried away in heated moments of pleasure and experimentation.
But here was Aonung, nearly your best friend at this point, who just heard your vague answer to his curious question.
You can physically see the moment the connotation of your words sinks into his thick skull, and his eyes widen large as Pandora and his lips part in shock.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you grin, flicking him on the shoulder. “You didn’t expect me to sit all tight and pretty and alone while practically stranded on an island of mega hot people, did you?”
Aonung looks as though he very much did expect that, or at least the thought of you fucking other members of his clan had certainly never crossed his mind. In fact, he looks nothing short of stupefied as he stares at you.
“Who?” he demands, an unmistakable scowl settling over his face.
“Really?” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “Like I’d tell you.”
“Why not?” he asks sullenly, muscles tense and jaw clenched.
“Because I know you, Aonung,” you smile. “And I know how you act around Tsireya with Lo’ak, and I don’t need your stupid ass scaring away my possible companions.”
“Companions,” he grunts with derisive amusement, before his scowl fixes once again and he furrows his brow once more. “You do know I do not see you as a sister, right?”
“Yeah well… don’t tell me that if I share who I’ve been with that you won’t get mad at them.”
Aonung pauses, and you can see he recognises your point; at the slightest mention of a name, Aonung would be up with the guy pinned up bruised and bloodied.
“So you like na’vi then?” Aonung questions. “Even though we’re double your height and could throw you twenty feet?”
“On the contrary,” you say with a sly, amusing grin, “that’s exactly what I like.”
When Aonung’s face slackens a little in shock, you laugh openly and shake your head.
“But who cares if I like na’vi- they’re hot and muscly, so it’s totally justified in my opinion!” you say with a wide, shameless grin. “The real question is why the guys were attracted to me – if humans are so small and weak looking or whatever else you giants think of us, then why would they want to fuck me?”
“That really is a whole other question,” Aonung sighs, rolling his eyes as though you’re being stupid. “But be honest, what do you think of me-”
He’s cut off by your pillow smacking him heavily in the face, and resurfaces to find your little frown a foot away from his.
“Hey, I was honest with you,” you scowl. Lie.
But you weren’t about to admit the truth – that your irritating friend is just about the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. You try to put it from your mind; those ten feet of pure muscle sculpted to glorious perfection only masked his stupidity and secret superpower of infuriating you with the slightest of comments or even glances.
“And what do you keep in that little book of yours then?” Aonung grins, looking infuriatingly smug.
You set down your beading with slight annoyance now, and you frown at your friend. He’s sat up now, propped back on his hands, head tilted to stare at you with that dangerous gleam that makes you want to question everything, every tone and muscle in his body practically glowing in the afternoon light.
“What book?” you ask wearily, forcing your eyes away from his body.
“You know,” he snickers. “The one you quickly stash away when you see me coming, that you think no one knows about? The little one you hide somewhere in this-”
“If you ever read that Aonung,” you threaten, suddenly on your feet with your face flushed deep deep red. God, what were you thinking trying to keep a diary? You’re an adult! “I swear to bloody mary that I will castrate you and burn everything I chop off.”
Aonung just chuckles, and you scowl.
“If you don’t want me going back to thinking you’re an absolute dick again- leave it.”
And finally he does, reluctantly.
All afternoon you can see him itching to question you more about it, burning with the desire to find out who you had been with, still shocked by the revelation that you fucked around with people in his clan, and he never even knew.
But he knows better than to push you, so he stays quiet, watching you work quietly.
When the sun sets and Kiri drops by to offer you eat with her and Rotxo, you say a quick goodbye to Aonung, who nods and leaves.
“What’s up with him?” Kiri asks, raising her brows at Aonung’s fading back, which is unmistakably tense. “What did you do to him?”
“He just found out about my romping around,” you shrug. “And he-”
“He what?” Kiri gawks, freezing in her steps so you smack into her and instantly fall back onto the ground. “Oh sorry- but YOU TOLD HIM?”
“Yes…?” you say slowly, confused why she’s so shocked. “He’s my friend.”
“So is Lo’ak, so is Neteyam,” Kiri points out. “But you aren’t telling them that you’re going around with-”
“That’s different,” you say quickly. “Lo’ak and Tey are like my brothers, and Aonung… is not.”
“Right,” Kiri says unconvinced.
There’s an awkward moment of silence in which she’s clearly waiting for you to say more.
“He’s infuriating,” you finally burst out.
“Yes he is,” Kiri agrees. She continues in her pointed silence as you move into her marui, until you finally can’t take it anymore.
“Fine!” you snap, face flushed. “He’s absolutely irritating in every way, and now he’s suddenly all caring about what I do in my own time with other guys? WE AREN’T EVEN A THING-”
“Are you sure about that?” Rotxo grins from the other side. “Just think about the way he acts when you’re around.”
“Annoying and cocky?” you huff, but you know what he means.
“Come on,” Kiri sighs, shaking her head at you with affection, “don’t tell me you’re this oblivious all of a sudden. What happened to my friend who used to have half the Omatikaya wrapped around her little finger, who could charm even the coldest of warriors? Where did all your psychicness go?”
“That’s not a word,” you grumble, hiding your unease with semantics.
“Okay enough,” Kiri sighs, pulling you up from where you had just comfortably settled on the floor and dragging you out to the entrance. “No more obliviousness.”
“Where are you taking me?” you moan, lazily allowing her to drag you off through the village, Rotxo trailing contentedly and obediently behind his mate.
“To get you changed,” she says carelessly. “We’re going out.”
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Aonung wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he asked you that question. But he sure as fuck wasn’t prepared to hear that his little tawtute was getting her way around the clan.
You were his friend. Once even friend had been a loose term to describe your relationship, but he would be lying if he hadn’t know that from the moment he laid eyes of your small figure – barely even half the height of the Sullys as they landed in Awa’atlu with your curious eyes and strange clothing – that you were his.
But after some time when the two of you had warmed to one another, he had realised that he did not see you in a way that was even remotely platonic.
The reasoning for that was probably that he saw you everywhere; your face, your small hands, your little body.
On nights spent with various other girls, he found his eyes closing and his mind imagining it was you splayed out beneath him, your pretty little face twisted with the lewdest of moans. When, eventually, he gave up on trying to fuck these lustful profanities into other girls, cock in hand in the privacy of sheltered coves or his own marui, he would long for it to be your hand wrapped around his length, to feel your lips brushing over every inch of his body, sinking his fangs into your smooth, soft skin.
He tried to tell himself, all the rest of that afternoon which he spent fuming around his marui before the festivities of that night, that it wasn’t the fact that you were with other guys that was bothering him. You were a free woman, free to do what you liked, free to spend your time on other men.
But on the other hand, the men of his clan were of his clan.
They were Aonung’s people - not just in a metaphorical sense of belonging - they were not as free to do as they liked when Aonung would one day lead them. And they should damn well know better than to touch you.
They had no license to have you, touch you, even look at you.
Had Aonung not made it clear enough - even if you seemed completely oblivious to it - that you were his?
Sure, he made not have had you in that purely carnal aspect that you apparently had shared with worthless spineless skxawngs unfit to be in your very presence, but the way he acted around you, the gifts he brought to you, the way he protected you with all the ferocity boiling within him, even the way his scent lingers on your skin when he can’t be near you (even if your tawtute nose couldn’t smell it) marks you as if not his, then at least definitely untouchable.
So what were these shameless, perverted idiots playing at?
They, more than anyone, should know how Aonung can get when he sets his mind to something. And that one is you, and he’s not about to let anyone else dare lay so much a finger on your smaller body ever again. He’s already cursing himself for not realising all this sooner, letting you waste your time with men could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve you. Which is why – when he sees you next, across the fire at a party – Aonung doesn’t take any chances.
It's a pretty typical Metkayina gathering, full of young warriors, hunters, village girls and other various clan members. Flasks of unilpay are being passed around and the air is rich with loud laughter, conversation, and other various drunken atrocities. The beach – cool in the clear night breeze – is basked in the balmy, warm glow of a bonfire. Sparks are flying gracefully up; flaming glimmers among the silver stars of the heavens.
“What were you thinking?” he demands in a low voice, striding straight up to Rotxo and grabbing his friend’s arm to face him. “Why is she here?”
“Kiri thought it would be good for her to come out for a bit,” Rotxo shrugs. Aonung scoffs, far too used to his best friend’s continual obedience to whatever Kiri does.
“I thought you were just going to have dinner, have a little chat, you know?” Aonung grumbles, looking away to scan the party, making sure you were far on the other side and alone with Kiri. “But now you bring her here?”
Rotxo settles back, looking slightly amused amidst his dawning understanding, and Aonung’s hand slowly falls from its tight grip around his arm.
“And what is so terrible about her being here?” Rotxo counters. “She’s been hanging around the village for ages, she’s been to these parties before. What’s your problem now?”
Aonung growls low under his breath. Frustration is starting to course through him. Rotxo knows what the answer is – what Aonung’s deal is, why he cares, why his gaze can’t seem to stop drifting towards you, but he’s waiting for the words to be spoken.
Instead, with a small huff of exasperation, Aonung pushes past Rotxo to approach you.
Through that short conversation that seemed an eternity, Aonung had not missed all the glances snuck covertly in your direction, shot from the corner of eyes and over shoulders and between the flickering flames separating you from most of the festivities.
You had changed since the afternoon, Aonung notices.
He didn’t quite understand tawtute customs, particularly your strange clothes that frustratingly covered so much of your body that na’vi clothing would usually be displaying with confidence and adoration, but he had spent enough time with you to know he had never seen you wear something like this.
He would have definitely remembered seeing you like this.
It’s hard to describe when the style is from a completely different species, but the thought that first crosses his mind is black. It was the first thing he notices after all, the black material cloaking over your body, brushing lightly over your soft skin.
You’ve worn things vaguely in this style before (dresh… cress… dress or something) but they had all been long and flowy and beautiful, yes, but this was so much more than that. It was stupid, actually, that only a change of outfit has Aonung’s heart seizing in his chest, throat bobbing and jaw clenched at the sight of you standing there, unilpay in one hand, the other moving to push your hair from your face.
It barely even covers your legs, and your arms and shoulders are left completely bare except for a wispy black strand that winds over your skin to vainly hold it up from your breasts. From Aonung’s view of you, he feels like just watching you is sinful. It’s wrong, to be seeing you like this, to be thinking these thoughts of you, but he can’t pull away from his view.
He had always known tawtute bodies were different to na’vi (all slim and muscular), and sometimes he found himself pleading that the next day your clothing would not be as flowy and coveraging as it always was, but he’d always beat back those sinful desires with the reminder of your positions.
But now, with the smooth skin of your thighs and slim shoulders and the ample curves of your body on full, glorious display, Aonung wonders how he ever managed to go without seeing you like this before.
You are always so small to him, but every curve of your body, in your thighs and hips and breasts and fuck.
Aonung stifles a low groan at all the thoughts flooding his filthy mind, and wrenches his gaze from the glorious glow of your soft skin under the dancing light of the fire.
And then, in several unconscious moments where Aonung has no clue what he’s doing, in several long strides to get him by your side without the pain of seconds apart from you, he’s beside you. You look up at him through your long dark lashes, and he also notices your lips look plumper and shinier than usual; the smooth rosiness gleaming tantalisingly up at him.
Not for the first time, he has to swallow a furious desire to sink his fangs lightly into your silky lips, and he immediately darts his gaze away – the method he always uses in vain attempts to stem those filthy, forbidden, longings.
“What are you doing here?” Aonung asks coldly, staring down at you from his metre above.
“Same as you,” you shrug. “I’m here to have fun.”
Aonung is not happy to hear that.
His glare moves straight to Kiri, who’s watching his displeased reaction with mingled interest and amusement. Obviously, her and Rotxo have some stupid ulterior motive or plot or something, but he won’t have any of it, not if it risks other guys getting anywhere near you.
But he can’t think of anything to do. If he tells you to leave then you’d doubtless shout at him and be in that pouty, pissed mood that you sometimes get into. And he can’t just flat out voice the truth, not with this many people standing around, not during one of the most unromantic settings he could imagine with tipsy warriors and a blazing fire.
From the moment he stood beside you though, the gazes moved away. Aonung’s pleased to find less and less eyes roving quickly over you, and the ones that do are quickly averted when he scowls at them.
Just as he thinks maybe it’ll be over – that no one will bother you anymore – people start to dance. Aonung had been friends with you long enough to know this was your favourite part of any festivity. You loved to watch the sway and undulation and grace of the na’vi in their movements, the beautiful delicacy of the clothing gleaming under the stars and tails coiling and moving in timely leisure.
And he also knows it will surely be a matter of time before you want to join in or worse, someone else asks you to dance.
So he sits gracelessly down next to you, on that log you’ve perched yourself on top of. The weight of his body suddenly seated beside you makes your little body jolt a little, but you grit your teeth with a small eye roll and discreetly dig your fingers into the bark. He spreads out a little, ensuring there is no more room on the log, with you seated between Kiri’s slim, tall figure and his own broad, muscular body.
Kiri certainly doesn’t miss this gesture (or the meaning behind it), but she hides her small smile with a sip from her coconut. You, on the other hand, are so entranced by the dancing that you don’t notice when Aonung spreads his legs a little wider so his muscular thigh is brushing against your small, soft, slightly squishy one he wordlessly loves so much.
You continue to watch with wordless awe, and Aonung sits, contented with the fact that no one has dared approach yet.
Yet when some stupid warrior – Tsu’kae, Aonung thinks his name is – blantantly turns to stare at you with shameless, disgustingly lustful interest, Aonung decides he has to step it up. Has he not made it fucking clear enough that you are his?
Slowly so he doesn’t attract too much of your attention, Aonung leans back and slips his arm to rest on his hands on either side of his body. This way, you’re closed in between his firmly planted hand and his own body, without any space on the log for anyone else.
When you finally notice Aonung’s stretched out into your space, you grumble faintly about his stupid giant body and his lack of care for personal space, but you settle back to rest your head lightly against his arm behind you.
Aonung tries not to tense, completely unprepared for your comfort against him, thrown of by your soft hair cascading and your face resting gently against his arm, lips inches away from brushing his skin yet your breath ghosts warm and present against him.
“It’s beautiful,” you whisper faintly to him, and he tries to ignore the fact that each word is whispered nearly right against his veins, as though your voice is coursing straight to his heart. You shiver lightly beside him.
“Yeah,” he replies in a low voice, throat feeling quite tight and strained; it isn’t exactly easy to scare off any other guys when he’s already about to explode just having you this close.
He feels slightly stupid; you’re watching the dances with awe and appreciation and a distant melancholy, desirous longing, and of course, he’s watching you. With equal ferocity, just excelling past with unbearable, flaming tendrils of frustrated craving snaking through his veins, seizing his heart and freezing his mind.
It’s only when he finally manages to tear his gaze away from you, with the same effort it takes to fell an akula, that he notices Tsu’kae is no longer on the sand amidst the dancing Metkayina. In fact, he’s on the outskirts, conspicuously sliding closer with slimy, transparent steps to get closer to you.
With a fierce stab of selfishness for what is his, Aonung finds his arm – the one caging you beside him – sweeping closer and bringing you with it, so you’re gently slid along the long till you’re pressed against his solid side.
You squint up at him with slight suspicious confusion, and he almost misses that little tense, gleam in your eyes. He can also hear the gentle, warm beats of your heart pick up, but he puts all the possibilities of reasonings of that from his mind to watch with cold irritation as Tsu’kae finally makes his way besides you.
“May I sit here?” he asks, glancing dubiously at the log.
Aonung, with a sudden desire to kick himself for his carelessness, realises to late that in pulling you towards him, he mistakenly left space on the log for someone to sit.
Unfortunately, Tsu’kae misses Aonung’s glower, which was a clear dismissal of the inferior warrior. You, finally, seemed to have some tiny inkling of the situation, because you glance briefly up at Aonung as though asking if Tsu’kae can join you.
The clear answer was no, but Aonung knew you well enough to guess that your unfortunate habit of masterfully ignoring unspoken orders may be about to be practised. Instead, he settled himself on a much more enjoyable option.
“Sure,” he rumbles to Tsu’kae, who looks a little startled, as though he wasn’t expecting to get personally addressed by Aonung.
Before he can sit beside you on the log, Aonung’s reaching over to lift you up and settle you comfortably in his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise to find yourself suddenly lifted as though you weigh nothing. Tsu’kae watches with mingled fascination and strange terror at Aonung’s plain message – you cannot have her.
Yet maybe Aonung didn’t completely think this plan through.
You’d never sat on his lap before, and although he’d often thought about it, how your squishy thighs and curvy hips would feel resting softly over his own would feel, how light and small and delicate you’d be against him, this was completely different.
He can feel everything about you. Your thighs – almost completely bare as the fabric of your clothing hitches all the way up to your ass – are pressed against his own, your skin all warm and soft and so velvety, deliciously smooth. Your body is still slightly tense despite your feigned nonchalance, and he can feel the tightness of your body resting on his.
And he can smell you. It’s warm, just a comforting, familiar scent that he spends all day breathing in, memorising and filing away into the back of his mind where, in the shelter and privacy of his own marui in those helplessly longing night, he can build up that image of you in your imagined lewd actions for him and to him. There’s something over the top of it, something new and flowery you must have just applied for tonight.
He has to fight a physical urge to just bury his entire face in the warm of your neck – your soft hair falling around him – and simply scenting you to the point everything else just completely ceases to exist and with his eyes closed and heart thumping, all that surrounds him is you and your warmth.
It takes Aonung a moment to remind himself where he is, surrounded by everyone, sitting beside the still-gaping Tsu’kae. To remind himself that it isn’t just the two of you alone, and especially that you are only friends, and it would probably be a little surprising if he finally just succumbed to all the filthy desires that suddenly seem a thousand times stronger than usual.
You’re finally relaxing on his lap, muscles untensing and breath coming in soft nature. The only downside is that when you loosen a little and stop sitting like there’s a splint to your spine, the soft curve of your ass, barely even covered by your clothing now, settles inches away from his crotch.
Aonung has a small surge of panic when his blood rushes south, but he just masks his soft groan as a hum of appreciation for the dance.
Eywa, he really didn’t think this through.
Never once had he taken the warnings of his mother, father, sister and basically the whole rest of the clan to heart – never once accepted that one day, his impulsivity might have consequences.
But the thought of what you might do when you realise how hard your so called “friend” is by you simply sitting on his lap is too much to bear.
What if you think he’s some crazy sort of desperate perv? What if you never see him the same, and everything is ruined and awkward and dangerous between the two of you? What if you tell Neteyam and Lo’ak and they beat the absolute shit out of him for acting like this?
Fuck.
From the corner of his eye – Aonung’s too scared to move enough to properly turn his head – he can see Tsu’kae all awkward and stupid and helpless. It should now be quite obvious his position in this situation; that he has no place here, anywhere near you.
Now getting over your surprise of being suddenly nestled in your friend’s lap, you’re starting to settle back. You’ve rested yourself against his chest, and he grits his teeth, jaw clenched and fangs sinking lightly into his lip.
Your hair is pillowing your head lightly where it rests, barely even at his chest and right below the fang of his necklace. Your back – nearly completely bare with the low cut of your soft clothing – is settled firmly against his abs, and the warmth your skin on his is oddly comforting, mollifying his slight ferocity.
The soft, sweet scent of you is closer now, more obvious below whatever that other flowery smell you’re wearing is, and Aonung tries his best to keep his breathing even so you won’t notice how he’s breathing in your scent.
But trying to act like just the proximity and scent and feel of you isn’t getting him hard is more difficult than it looks, and Aonung strains his brain to think of ways to delay the inevitable of when you finally notice the ever-growing tent in his tewng.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Tsu’kae offers after a moment of tense silence that you don’t seem to notice. Aonung wonders faintly if your human senses just don’t pick up this sort of tension, or maybe you really are just infuriatingly, endearingly oblivious.
“Yes, thank you,” you say, shifting to give him a little smile.
A fierce stab of strange jealously blossoms like fire inside of Aonung, suddenly scorching his veins and he has a sudden desire to smack that returned, almost-shy-to-hide-his horniness smirk off Tsu’kae’s face. He probably would have, had you not leaned back against him and shimmied your soft ass to lay right over the ridge of his hardened cock.
Aonung gives a sudden jolt, nearly tossing you unceremoniously from his lap and even more mortifyingly - accidentally grinding his tented, straining tewng against the curve of your ass.
There’s a moment in which Aonung thinks you are about to scream at him, turn and curse him out for his lewd state. He can hear your heart pick up suddenly, see the tips of your small, roundish ears go slightly pink, watch a flush creep along back of your neck.
“Do you mind?” you grumble. “If you’re going to try cockblocking me, at least don’t nearly throw me around. I was perfectly comfortable, you bumbling skxawng.”
Aonung blinks in sluggish silence, your words sinking into his brain till he realises with an overwhelming surge or relief that you didn’t notice. Eywa, he’s never been so thankful of the simplicity of human anatomical function.
 “I’m not trying to cock block you,” he says instead, and you scoff.
“Please,” you say stoutly, and Aonung can just imagine you rolling your eyes in that amused way you always do. “You really have no idea how conspicuous you are, dumbass.”
“I am not,” Aonung says with a frown, ignoring the human name he doesn’t understand. “Besides, you could do much better than the likes of Tsu’kae.”
“Really?” you say coolly. Aonung suddenly can’t picture what your face looks like; your tone is completely unreadable as though you’re trying to make it even, hiding whatever you’re actually thinking right now. “And what is so terrible about Tsu’kae?”
“He’s dim-witted,” Aonung points out. “Slow, unreliable, terrible at spear throwing-”
“Ah yes,” you interrupt, “everything I look for in a hook-up; his spear throwing abilities.”
“And he’s obviously just horny,” Aonung adds, ignoring the now painful tent in his tewng and the heavy irony of his words. He looks pointedly across the party, and you follow his gaze to see Tsu’kae standing with his friends, drinking heavily from a flask, getting a few hyping smacks from his mates as they no doubt discuss you.
“So someone would just have to be horny to fuck me?” you huff, turning your neck to glare at him. Aonung bites down a small groan as you accidentally shift on his crotch. “There’s nothing else endearing about me, it would just depend on their arousal?”
“No,” Aonung says quickly, but your scowl is deepening the longer it takes for him to find the right words – ones that don’t give away his own… excitement. “There is nothing wrong with you-”
“Who said anything about there being something wrong with me?” you snap, brows furrowing and face now torn between fury and something he can’t quite make out.
“No one- nothing- what?” Aonung stammers, confused at why you’re suddenly so upset. “You are just far too good for Tsu’kae. He does not deserve your time.”
“Then who does?” you ask sullenly, slightly folding into yourself, yet you still don’t pull away from your seat in his lap. “What about Sokzu-”
“He is arrogant,” Aonung shoots the idea down.
“What about Ta’ru-”
“Incompetent,” Aonung interrupts again.
“Or Kayo-”
“Lazy-”
“Zäki?”
“Seriously,” Aonung says firmly, now frowning too. “Do you seriously think any of these skxawngs are worth your interest?”
Your mouth twitches at his words, though he still has no fucking clue what you’re thinking.
“What are you trying to say, Aonung?” you ask.
“I don’t know,” he says truthfully.
You’re still looking up at him, eyes large and shimmering in the light from the fire and scattered stars. Aonung swallows, gaze darting quickly down to your glossy lips before fixing back on your face. He can’t look away.
“I brought you unilpay,” a voice interrupts.
You both turn to see Tsu’kae standing there, looking a little rumpled and disorientated. It couldn’t have been more obvious that he’s drunk now, and Aonung doesn’t fail to notice your nose scrunch for an instant before you smooth out your face and take it with a small smile and a thank you.
Completely oblivious and obviously stupid, Tsu’kae continues to stand awkwardly, before he seems to gather enough courage to ask, “Would you like to come for a walk, tawtute?”
Instantly, Aonung’s blood has turned to ice. He doesn’t even look at you before snapping, “She’s good.”
Tsu’kae’s face falls in a small frown, and he, – stupidly – drops his own flask on the sand to clench his fists.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” he slurs. “I was talking to her.”
“And I gave you an answer,” Aonung counters, eyes narrowing at the disrespect this meager warrior is displaying. “She’s not going to go anywhere with you.”
Again, Tsu’kae fails to pull himself together and show the proper respect. He steps closer, face pulled into a little frown as he raises his brows at Aonung.
“And what are you going to do to stop her?” he leers. “If she wants to come?”
“Do you want to go?” Aonung asks you, a small furrow between his brows as he looks down at you. You’re all wide-eyed and wordless, eyes darting between Aonung and Tsu’kae who scowls.
“Of course she want-”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Aonung hisses through gritted teeth. “Do you want to go with him?”
Your lips part. You don’t seem to have any answer to give, and you just stare blankly at Aonung, still seated in his lap. Finally, Tsu’kae’s drunken patience seems to have run out, and his hand closes around your tiny wrist.
“Come on taw-”
You’re no sooner pulled helplessly off Aonung than he’s on his feet, then finding his fist sinking satisfyingly into Tsu’ake’s jaw. The stupid warrior lets out a surprised grunt and stumbles back, dragging your little figure with his weight.
“Let her go,” Aonung says coolly, reaching to grab your other arm.
It’s a little awkward, and you’re wincing slightly at the grip of each arm clutched by the two men. People are starting to turn and stare now, and you’re struggling to free yourself.
“Now,” Aonung adds.
Reluctantly, Tsu’kae lets go of your wrist with a frustrated huff, and you flinch at the angry red mark on your skin from where he touched you. Aonung’s heart thuds irately at the mark, and he gently pushes you behind him.
“Touch her again,” Aonung hisses, stepping closer to hide your nervously watching figure, “and I kill you.”
Tsu’kae just laughs, before making to shove Aonung backwards. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t shift in the slightest, and Tsu’kae stumbles into Aonung, who grips the skxawng by the back of his neck. Instantly, Tsu’kae winces away, averting his eyes and vainly trying to get away.
“Pathetic,” Aonung says coolly, pulling him up to study him further. “You actually thought you’d get to have time with her.”
Tsu’kae lets out a small hiss and brings his fist up to smack into Aonung’s cheek. It isn’t particularly painful,  but a blow is a blow and Aonung tosses him to the side. He slams unceremoniously into the sand, where he’s met with small stifled laughter and disapproving glances. You’re still gaping at Aonung, who gently kneels beside you.
“Are you alright?” he asks softly. You nod, eyes raking over his face before your fingertips reach out to trace lightly over the mark of Tsu’kae’s laughable punch. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”
No one else makes a noise, but Aonung can feel all eyes on your retreating backs as he leads you away. He can still feel the burn of disbelieving attention on him as the party fades away and the woven walkways of the village come into view. More importantly, he can feel eyes on you, and, desperate to make sure you don’t feel uneasy, he places a wide hand on your back to lightly steer you in front, out of the way of prying eyes.
When he drops you off at your marui, it’s with a strange ache in his chest.
You look tired and the gloss of your lips is nearly completely gone now. You smile up at him at the entrance, but when he turns to leave, he can sense your drunkenness. Not for the first time, he curses how strong na’vi alcohol is to you, and before you know what’s happening, he’s turned back and steered you all the way into your marui and laid you down on the bed.
“Here,” he instructs, handing you a small flask of water. “Drink this before you sleep.”
“You’re looking after me,” you smile stupidly. Aonung wants to kick himself for not noticing how tipsy you had been in the distraction of everything, but he just rolls his eyes at your dopiness.
“Well, I didn’t go to all this trouble tonight to just leave you like this,” Aonung says wearily, reaching for one of those black stretchy things you use for your hair and clumsily tying it back for you. “Eywa, you’re just going to have to sleep in this.”
“I wanted to look pretty,” you mumble softly, a small furrow forming between your brows.
Aonung could have sworn those words could have punched the breath out of him – and he fights down a desire to tell you just how pretty you look, how you always look.
Instead, he just gently pats your forehead and whispers, “Just get some sleep.”
You nod obediently, never taking your eyes off his face as he fusses about, straightening your bed, making sure there’s water beside you. But when he turns to leave, you softly whisper out his name.
Aonung turns back. You don’t say anything, just continuing to stare at him. It’s a tense moment of silence, until you finally sigh.
“Goodnight,” you whisper. Aonung doesn’t reply, just giving you a soft smile.
It’s not until Aonung’s back in his own marui, flopping down onto his bed with a groan, does he remember exactly what had happened.
It’s filthy and humiliating, that the second he remembers the moment – the scent and the proximity and the feel of you seated in his lap – his tewng is growing stranglingly tight once more.
This has happens much more than Aonung would ever readily admit. He tries his utmost to not even think about it. But once more, he can’t help but palm himself lightly through the thin fabric of his tewng that has put up quite the struggle tonight.
Eywa, just the thought of you at that party – hair flowing over your bare back, the glow of your skin and the softness of your thighs, breathing in your warm sweet scent, the same one that’s now slowly fading from his skin that you had been so gloriously pressed against.
Fuck.
Really, who is this hurting? he justifies himself as he impatiently tears away his tewng. It’s just to take the edge off. It doesn’t mean anything.
Filthy. Lewd. Wrong.
But he can’t bring himself to process all the copious issues of what he’s doing when everything about you is fresh in his mind, stuck in his mind, and using that young horny man logic that dubiously validates each of these moments, he lets himself sink into those coarse imaginations.
There’s a million of them, layered on top of one another, flooding and racing through his mind.
Ones in which you’re squirming under him, ones in which your soft thighs are nestled tightly around his face. Ones with your head thrown back as you top him, ones where you’re arched against the floor, tears streaming down your sweet, pretty little face as his hips rut into your own.
When he accidentally tightens his grip around himself, he imagines just how much better your hand would feel around his length, all small and silky and smooth.
There’s something just so filthy about this.
You are his little friend - his - but what would you be thinking if you knew he did this?
Even so, he can’t help remembering just how right it felt to have the soft curve of your ass nestled right up against his crotch, and then he’s speeding up with helpless, lewd desperation.
Your lips, all glossed and plump and parted to glorious perfection swim in his mind as he fails to stifle a sharp groan. The thought of them brushing over his own, over his chest, wrapping light and tight and warm around his length does him in with searing speed.
His release, spilling hopelessly and copiously into his tightened fist, blazes with the hot shame of it.
Aonung has felt this familiar embarrassed self-disgust before, quite a familiar after effect of these nights filled with thoughts of you, but this just feels so much… more.
Your words come to cross his mind again; “Why would people be attracted to me?”
The real answer is how could anyone fucking not be.
But that wasn’t entirely satisfactory, because Aonung was fully prepared to murder anyone who had the foolish balls to pursue you.
His little friend.
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That same blazing shame doesn’t go away after a restless nights’ sleep.
Aonung wakes up, amidst the unwelcome sunlight filtering into his marui, to find that he can’t bring himself to face you quite yet. Of course, it’s just his luck that when he drags himself up to deal with the impatient hammering at his entrance, he’s met with you.
“Morning!” you say chirpily, which tells him clearly that you’ve mostly forgotten the events of the night before. “Tsireya’s forcing me to come to the beach, and I refuse to go without you.”
Aonung’s about to make some lame excuse, based loosely of his clan duties and his tiredness, but then your words process.
“You will go swimming?” he asks dubiously.
“Yup.”
And that does it.
Aonung has been trying to get you to come swimming for months, and he has to fight that little twinge of jealousy that it’s Tsireya that finally managed to convince you. However, when you bound away to where Tsireya, Rotxo, and the Sullys are waiting, Aonung finds himself following thoughtlessly.
You’re chatting animatedly with Kiri and Neteyam, and Aonung allows his eyes to quickly wander over you as he trails behind the group.
You’ve changed out of your short black clothing, though Aonung is delighted to find that once again, you aren’t hiding as much of your body as you typically do.
The little shorts you are wearing are just that. Little. They barely stretch over the curve of your ass, and ties of bikini bottoms are poking up out of the low waist. The top you’re wearing – a simple white tank – is also perfectly tight enough that Aonung can see the faint outline of a triangular bikini top.
The part that nearly makes his knees buckle is the slim line of your stomach visible between your top and shorts, where he can see the perfect soft squidge of your figure, and the little jiggle of your thighs with every step you take.
When you make it down to the beach, sun warming your skin and the soft ocean lapping against the sand surrounding you, you manage to surprise him further.
You don’t follow the others immediately into the water. You unbutton those little shorts and shimmy them down your body, before reaching up to tug off your top.
Oh.
Fuck.
You really had been right; Aonung had no idea how conspicuous he was.
Suddenly, after all that training of mastering himself, he simply cannot wrench or drag or tear his gaze away from you. Instead, he stands awkward and gaping like an idiot at the sight of you almost completely bare.
After so long of needing his imagination to picture you like this, seeing your body this gloriously bare could damn well killed him. In fact, Aonung’s sure even with your tawtute senses, you would surely know his heart just stopped, his blood heating, his brain stalling.
But you just shoot him a cheeky, knowing grin before innocently asking, “What?”
“Nothing,” Aonung clears his throat, painfully aware of his flushed face. “Should- uh – should we get in?”
You just roll your eyes at him and race in. He doesn’t watch the sway of your body as you slowly go into the water. He doesn’t need to resist the urge to just pick you up again, maybe even help you with your breathing.
He supposes he should be impressed with your swimming, but your size and ill adjustment to swimming in the ocean – especially beside na’vi – slows you down, and eventually he ends up just offering you a hand. He highly suspects that you’re not even swimming, just allowing yourself to be pulled leisurely through the water, but he isn’t going to complain.
You have this adorable little look of awe on your face, as though you thoroughly regret only now coming swimming after months of being begged to. Aonung faintly wonders why you never did come.
After a while, you all swim back to the shallows. The Sully’s, Rotxo and Tsireya are all running and splashing around, and Aonung notices you struggling to tread water (he notices with a small smile that you can’t reach the bottom).
“You good there?” he grins, wading over to you.
“Yep,” you huff, kicking up to keep your head at least above the water.
“Need a hand?” he snickers. “You look like you’re having a little trouble. Do yo-”
“Just get over here skxawng,” you grumble.
The moment he’s in arms reach, you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck and straddled your legs tight around him. You huff a little for breath, resting your face in the crook of his neck, warm breath fanning across his sensitive skin.
Tsireya looks over, and she shoots her brother a small, knowing smile. Aonung just rolls his eyes back, but he finds himself shifting you around his body so he can somewhat cradle you – your body wrapped around his side, supported lightly by one of his arms.
“You know,” Kiri says with delicate mirth, “we should be heading back soon, right Ro?”
“Yeah,” Rotxo agrees, looking equally happy at the sight of you (even if unintentionally so) cuddled against Aonung. “You coming Neteyam?”
“We’ll come too,” Tsireya grins, tugging Lo’ak along behind her.
You watch them all go, still slightly breathless. Aonung has a small suspicion you know exactly why they’re leaving, but you make no effort to shift away from him, and you wave them off.
Tsireya has to give Lo’ak and extra hard tug to pull him away. The Sully boys’ brotherly protection has always been a reason Aonung kept the truth away from you, but he thinks at this point he really just is completely conspicuous.
“Are you alright?” Aonung asks, pulling back slightly to push your head from your face.
And suddenly, he notices something.
There’s none of that fierce, bantery spark that blazes between your eyes. Instead, you’re just staring at him with complete and utter… something.
Aonung has never wanted more that you had a tail and na’vi ears so he can better gage your thoughts, but you’re just completely unreadable.
Your eyes are raking over his face; he can feel their trail burning into his skin as though you were physically touching him. You’re inches away.
He clears his throat.
No no no.
Eventually, you tread out of the water to stretch in the soft sand cast into relieving shade, beneath the shelter of the tropical canopy. Aonung lies down beside you, throat feeling strangely tight.
There is something different. Something off.
And there’s a sinking feeling that tells him things just won’t go back to normal. Which is why he decides he needs to settle this out.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he says quietly, staring up at the canopy above.
It’s green.
You give a little hum of acknowledgement.
“What for?” you reply quietly.
“For causing a little scene,” Aonung says quietly.
He counts seventeen little pink flowers in the tree above.
“Right.”
“And cutting you off,” he adds in a mumble.
He thinks there might be several birds hiding between the spindly, delicate fronds.
You don’t reply. He still doesn’t risk a glance at you.
“And for upsetting you.”
There’s another moment of silence. Aonung swears you must be able to hear his heartbeat. You exhale slowly.
“I’m not upset,” you say quietly.
Aonung turns to look at you. You’re also looking up at the canopy, wet hair spilling over the sand, body glittering with the droplets of water still shining on your skin. You swallow.
“You aren’t?” he asks, trying not to sound too relieved. You shake your head slightly, still not turning to meet his gaze.
“Nope,” you sigh, wearily popping the p. “It’s just- um… why did you do it?”
“Do what.”
“The whole thing,” you say, gesturing in front of you. “Of protecting me and making sure I didn’t make a mistake. Plus the… the um…”
Aonung stares in disbelief. He’s never seen you go this long without loudly and shamelessly voicing your opinions. The struggle to get out a single sentence is really quite unnerving for him.
“The whole kill him if he touches me thing,” you blurt in a quick breath, face flushed and eyes refusing to meet his.
It’s Aonung’s turn to blink. He does so in owlish silence, watching the light filtering contentedly through the canopy above while his mind works furiously to find a legitimate answer to your question.
“You are small,” Aonung says finally, carefully tiptoeing around the truth, but really, any more time to think is quite unacceptable given the length of his ponderous silence. “And delicate and sweet. I do not wish anyone-”
“I am not weak,” you interrupt, a small frown on your sweet little face. “I don’t need you to protect me.”
He swallows heavily. Those words feel suddenly painful in his chest.
That’s who he was – he protected you, even if you didn’t know it yet. He was the one that stood by you, stood over you, and that warmth and shade he cast over you meant so much more than you thought.
Eywa, how well he could protect you if you let him.
You must have noticed how those words hit him – how his ears drooped and tail swept dejectedly through the sand.
“Aonung?” you say quietly, propping yourself up on one arm and staring at him. “Is there something bothering you?”
“No,” he says, far too fast to be believable. Your mouth twitches in a wry smile, and you scoot closer.
“You always were a terrible liar,” you whisper. At Aonung’s bitter little huff, your smile widens slightly, before fading entirely. He wants to do anything to bring it back. “At least - you could never convince me.”
“Fine,” Aonung mumbles, resigning himself to the fact that there’s no going back.
He knows you know something’s wrong, and he can tell that this friendship is already crumbling away into something else – something unintelligible and unfathomable to him.
“They are not fit for you, tsawksyul.”
You flinch back, and Aonung wonders faintly if it’s because of the name, or his words, or the harsh desperation with which he spoke them, and he reaches slowly for you. You lean back from him, face twisted with confused hurt.
“Then who is?” you say dully.
“Not anyone here,” Aonung tells you.
Once again, he has no idea how to gage your feelings. It’s strange really, that he’s gone from how lustful and filthy he was last night to how just overwhelmingly… fluffy he feels right now.
But apparently you aren’t finding his words how he intended them, because your face is twisting in a very obvious scowl.
“So… I don’t get anyone,” you say.
Aonung isn’t stupid, he sees the way your eyes are narrowing to indicate the very clear correct answer to your trembly question, but then again, he is stupid when it comes to you.
“You don’t need anyone.”
Instantly he knows that was the wrong thing to say. Your chest seems to swell and your face flushes as you sit upright and glare at him.
“Right,” you snap.
“Have I upset you?” Aonung asks slowly, wondering what he did when his brain feels as though it’s made of jelly.
“Nice observation sherlock,” you huff. “You’d want me to end up all sad and alone with no one to love me, just so I don’t fuck some of your clan mates? What, are you jealous or something? Do you think that you’d be that much better?”
No sooner are the words from your mouth then Aonung’s body betrays him – reacting before his mind can process. But the way he flinches back and flushes makes you freeze, and your eyes widen.
“Well…” he stammers, trying to dig himself out of this stupid hole he got into. “Yes?”
“And why is that,” you huff, standing up on your little legs, barely at his height and fist balled with rage. “You really think you’re that much better than everyone else? I thought you got over your cocky entitlement phase but now here you are, desperate to show that you’re the biggest, hottest thing in the clan.”
Aonung’s brain is too muddled to think. This is all going so, so wrong.
“No!” he says quickly, so desperate to try and speak properly that his voice comes out as something of a shout. You look shocked for a moment, flinched back from him, and he instantly reaches towards you. “I’m sorry-”
“You know,” you say stiffly, stepping out of his reach, “I thought you weren’t like this anymore. God, I wasted so much time, and you only ever started noticing me in this way when you found out I – as an adult woman by the way – was not some little … celibate fucking nun!”
“In what way?” Aonung asks, confused.
You let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a furious growl, then let out an unnerving laugh.
“Are you fucking serious?” you snap. “You’re the most self-centered person I’ve ever met! I thought we grew up, that not everything would be a competition and we could have a mature friendship if we could never be… UGH! But you are genuinely the most infuriating, entitled, interfering, emulous ass I’ve ever had the misfortune to befriend! I mean what is wrong with me?”
“Nothing is wrong with you,” Aonung says, frowning.
“Well there obviously fucking is if I love you!”
You freeze. So does he.
Your words – irrevocable, irreversible and so gleamingly inescapable hang in the still, tense air.
The beach is completely empty albeit the faintly lapping waves and drifting shade of the trees, and of course those words. The ones that change everything, break everything, ruin the friendship you have spent years building.
Aonung just sits in dumbfounded, perplexed silence. Breath after breath. He seems to have forgotten how to breathe, and in the strange, almost reminiscently ironic moments he takes to try and figure it out, you’ve turned faintly green, flushed deeper than the flowers above you, then paled in blunt mortification.
“Oh god,” you whisper, covering your face when your brain kicks in and you remember to move. Aonung still hasn’t said anything, and even though he can see that’s breaking you, he just isn’t able to speak. “Please… say something skxawng.”
Silence.
“Oh god,” you say again, shaking your head, lip trembling slight. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything- I’m just going to-”
“I love you too.” 
“Please just forget- wait what?”
There’s a moment when everything stops. The sea seems to stall, the wind dies and the canopy stiffens. Aonung notes that your hair is still being blown gently in some absent breeze.
Your eyes look slightly red and slightly wet and your lips are parted in surprise. The longer Aonung stares at you, the deeper that little frowning furrow between your brows grows. He’s vaguely aware of his heart thumping – so loud and fast that under different circumstances, he may have even been worried about it – but he can’t summon any thoughts into his brain.
“Since when,” you whisper. Your voice is nothing more than a trembly breath, and if Aonung hadn’t been na’vi, if he hadn’t been watching you so intently to gage that your lips moved, he would have still been trapped in this tense silence.
“Since fucking forever,” he groans, rubbing his face tiredly. “I thought you were supposed to be all smart and all-knowing when it came to romance and crushes and shit.”
“Just because you are completely and irrevocably stupidly oblivious,” you scoff, “does not make me a genius in comparison.”
“So we’re just two little lovestruck idiots, then?”
“Guess so.”
There’s a moment of silence before it really does process to both of you. Aonung’s head snaps up, eyes wide and lips stretched with a fat dopey smile only to find yourself already launching yourself into his arms.
When he catches you, he’s sure he’ll never be able to let you go. Your hands reach to cup his face, which seems comically large in comparison, smiling in delighted disbelief before you let out a small, wet laugh.
“God, I love you.”
Aonung doesn’t even respond- barely even processes your words beyond a surge of overwhelming ecstacy, and presses his lips to yours.
Fuck.
Eywa.
How had he managed to go this long without this.
All those moments staring at your lips meant nothing when compared to the actual feel of them; soft, warm, tentative at first as you brush them over his own. There’s something so sweet about you, and he has a blissful idea that you’re melting on his tongue.
Aonung can feel those last tenterhooks of your friendship splintering and tearing apart at the feeling of your lips against his.
Well, good riddance.
Aonung’s hand finds its way into your hair, hand resting steadily on the back of your neck. Your mouth is small, cushioned by those soft warm lips, but you open your mouth wide and eager, hungry and tentative and exploratory and everything in between.
You’re making all these little huffy noises, as though desperate for breath but unable to pull away from him. When your smooth, small body shifts to press itself closer against him, Aonung groans unrestrainedly into your mouth, and he swears to Eywa you could kill him.
When he’d imagined this – during those late nights hidden deep in his marui fisting his cock – you’d been different. Sometimes you’d be sweet and nervous and tentative, at others you’d be desperate and ravenous and impatient.
Nothing could have prepared you for this, not even his copious, overwhelming dreams and hopes and desires for this. Nothing could have readied him to have you here and now, lips against his, tongue pressed against his, bodies tight against one another.
He’s so hard he thinks he might actually die, but he’ll be damned to pull away to deal with his own needs. All that matters now, all that exists right now is you, your scent, your lips, your body all beside him and around him and so hungry for him.
When he’s worried you’re quite about to suffocate, he slides his lips sideways to press hungry kisses along your jaw. You let out small, breathy gasps, fingers tangling in his hair, arms clinging tight around his neck to steady yourself as his lips find their way steadily back to you.
As your lips smash onto his once more, Aonung marvels at the way his hand – splayed out to hold you up – spans across the whole damn length of your back. When his fingers lightly trace their way up your spine, you shiver against him, soothed by his hand carding gently through your hair.
Your tongue licks lightly over his fangs, and Aonung, surprised, jerks back at the strange sensitivity. That felt different, and he wonders faintly how in all the meaningless, irrelevant kisses he’s shared in his lifetime, that’s never happened before, or at least made him feel so sensitive.
“You good?” you smile against his lips, but he suspects it’s more of a smirk. You know exactly what you’re doing.
“Yeah,” he says, feeling breathless and completely inflamed. “Yeah… I’m good.”
Your tongue teases over his fangs again. When he moans shamelessly back into your mouth, you giggle and cuddle him closer. Aonung laughs with you. It’s an almost painful relief from the overwhelming heat of the moment.
You’re still breathing heavily with that wide smile on your face when you stop giggling, but when Aonung meets your gaze, he can’t read your expression. He thinks for a moment you’re going to push him back, tell him to slow down, but then your gaze darkens ominously.
“Let’s get back,” you breathe exultantly.
“Why-”
“Because I don’t really feel like fucking for the first time with you on the sand of an exposed beach,” you grin.
“So we’re going to fuck?” Aonung asks hopefully, the corners of his mouth curling with delight.
“Up to you,” you grin, standing up and backing away from him in the direction of the village. “I mean, you could stay here in the shade, listen to the pretty birdies and watch the ocean-”
You cut off with a delighted giggle as Aonung sweeps you up as though you weigh nothing and tears off towards the village.
He ignores the stares of the clan as he storms his way towards his marui, though he must admit you must be quite the sight – you nearly completely bare in your little swimsuit, bundled up in his arms and shifty smiles stretched wide across your faces.
He practically crashes into his marui, not bothering to slip his way through the woven entrance but bursting through it and kicking it carelessly back into place with his tail.
You laugh – sweet and clear and loud – as he tosses you against the bed and crawls over to you. There’s barely a thought in his brain than you, with your breathy little gasps and hands raking through his hair and soft, warm lips.
When he buries his nose in the soft, exposed crook between your shoulder and neck, you jolt in surprise. You smell so sweet. Aonung wonders vaguely if he’s in heaven, surrounded by your arms encircling him, buried and deluged in your warm, sweet scent.
He’s extremely pleased to note you’re already starting to smell like him – a faint trace of sea breeze and amber noticeable on you, but he isn’t about to stop until you smell of nothing but him, until every person in this clan can see his plain mark on you, know that you are his and his alone.
And then he can’t stop himself from sinking his fangs lightly into that warm exposed skin.
You instantly squirm underneath him, arching up against him with a surprised gasp. You are just so soft, and his teeth sink with impossible ease into your neck. No sooner has he done it then he’s lightly licking the small pearls of blood away and pressing a light kiss for good measure.
And then he does it again. And again – adorning you with a necklace of gleaming ruby bites, better than any jewellery he would make, prettier than any pearls or shells he would collect. He doesn’t know if you understand them, that claim and those marks, but he’ll make sure you know that you’re his.
“Aonung,” you gasp, gripping at his face to tug him away and force him to look at you. “Aonung!”
“Yes?” he asks, slightly irritated you stopped him from continuing.
“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe, pupils blown wide, chest heaving with the desperation of your gasps, face flushed in glorious exultation.
“Not yet tsawksyul,” he says. A small glare is forming in your eyes, and he nearly laughs at your ravenous impatience. “You are not ready yet.”
“Yes I am,” you snap, scowling at him. “I’ve taken na’vi men before, just-”
“Patience,” he whispers, hand reaching up to rest against your face, thumb brushing over your frowning lips.
You look like you’re about to shout at him when Aonung’s hand leaves your face and finds it’s way to the little knots on the side of your bikini.
“Is this alright?” he asks gently. No sooner are the words out of his mouth then you’re nodding with irritated fervour, and he pulls lightly on the strings and slides away your bottoms.
Fuck.
His eyes are glued to that paradise between your legs, the one he’s been dreaming about for months. Vaguely and almost unconsciously, he decides when he dies, he’d prefer this heaven over anything else.  His eyes quickly flicks up to you, and you must see something in his darkened, suddenly insatiable gaze, because your face is quickly flushing and your legs are squeezing shut.
“Do you want this tsawksyul?” he asks in a low voice, retracting from your body slightly so you don’t feel uncomfortable.
“Ye- yes,” you mutter, face turning an adorable pink colour.
“Are you sure,” he presses gently, reaching out to direct your gaze back to his. “We can do something else- we don’t have to-”
“No!” you gasp, eyes widening at those words. “No- I want this.”
“You have to tell me,” Aonung whispers, pressing a kiss to the perfect plush of your inner thighs, “if you don’t like anything. You have to say if you want to stop.”
“Don’t you dare,” you breathe, and he grins.
When he finally dives between your legs, it’s without the intent of ever resurfacing. You let out a surprised little gasp as he muscles his way between your pretty thighs, forcing them further apart from that meager gap you thought would satiate him.
He licks a long, tantalising stripe up your puffy lips, eyes practically rolling back at the sweet, heady taste of you, exploding over his tongue just as he spent so long dreaming about. At your reaction – accidentally bucking your little hips into his face with a choked gasp – he can guess you hadn’t been expecting the rough texture of his tongue.
He looks experimentally up at you, and you glare straight back with an impatient, expectant look on your usually sweet little face.
Fuck yes.
He sucks lightly and you practically shriek, hands tearing for something to grab onto. Unfortunately, your fingers find purchase closing around his hair – curls and kuru and all – and you tug.
Neither of you expected that groan ripped from him, the sound vibrating against you in a way that has your eyes rolling and moaning in glorious response. Aonung, who had already thoughtlessly been rutting his own hips against the ground in search of any salvation from that insatiable ache in his core, does not miss that warning heat start to coil in his abdomen.
But ever set on pleasing you, he does not lapse for a moment and ignores his own unravelling as you continue to desperately tug at his kuru. You’re already squirming and gasping for breath – only making hungry little moans and letting slip little gasps of curses and don’t stops.
He, in fact, has no intention of stopping soon. Not when you’re making all these pretty little noises, not when your own pleasure – the sounds and taste and scent of it – is nearly tipping him over the edge.
He can tell you’re close, and that’s what prompts him to slowly slide a finger into your soaked heat. With a choked moan your hand fists tighter around his hair. Aonung marvels at just how tight you are, clenching around his fingers like a vice as you struggle to adjust to his finger.
He vaguely revels in the thought of how amazing you’d feel, wrapped all tight and warm against his cock, and he moans into you.
When he knows you’re about to tip over the edge, when your eyes are rolling and your moans are becoming less words and more desperate pleading noises, he circles his tongue around your clit and sucks.
You come undone with a cry, clenching around his finger so much he can feel your whole heat aching against his ravenously laving tongue.
It’s only when your thighs (no doubt of their own accord) shut tight around his face in a glorious squeeze of soft, perfect squidge.
He isn’t sure why that’s what does it – though it is paired with your tugs on his kuru and his mindlessly rutting hips – but then he’s also pushed over that brink with a snarl you hardly even notice, too high on your own cresting pleasure.
But he has no time for shame or mortification at his early release, never even touched by you, because really, it’s a marvel it hadn’t happened earlier.
You’ve barely come down from your high when you notice Aonung still buried contentedly between your closed thighs.
“A- Aonung,” you pant, left breathless by your orgasm and the glorious sight of your best friend, all perfect and pretty, having the goddamn time of his life.
His only reply is to lightly tap the side of your thighs and mumble against your aching cunt, “Open these a little wider for me, tsawksyul.”
He vaguely notes your mouth drop open in surprise before he’s diverting his full attention to that heaven between your thighs. Your little huff of impatient is batted with your own gasp, but you – stubborn as ever – continue the struggle of attempting speech, “You-”
“Just one more,” he coaxes, licking another long stripe so his tongue catches on your overstimulated clit. Your defeated little groan is music to his ears, and a wide grip is stretched over his face as he victoriously resubmerges.
Your first orgasm has barely abated before your second is hurtling nearer with haphazard enthusiasm.
You’re whining and squirming from the overstimulation, but your desperate moans are punctuated with little gasps of don’t stop and encouraging tugs on his hair.
Aonung’s moaning into you, enjoying this quite as much as you are. His hands are holding you close by your soft plush of your thighs, tail sweeping and thumping behind him as he inevitably grows rock hard again, spurred by your euphoria.
All that exists is you. You’re so fucking wet, practically soaking into his mouth. All he can see and hear and taste is you, hips rutting against his face, hands clawing at his hair, head thrown back and moans spilling out of your gleaming, parted lips.
His jaw is aching in delicious wearing. The pain is satisfying in a strange way, and he contents himself with the knowledge he’s working.
It isn’t exactly best-friendly; the thoughts he’s having. He sincerely doubts his brain has never been this filthy, flying through all the lewd possibilities while he has you here.
“Aonung!” you slur out, thighs twitching over his shoulders as you near your high. “you need- slow down - ‘s too much.”
“You’re doing so well,” he hums against you, still maintaining his steady (and somewhat overzealous) pace.
Again, when he notices how close you are, he sucks your whole cunt into his mouth, tongue lapping at your little swollen clit as he sucks hungrily at you.
Then once again, your thighs are tensing and your moans are slurring into unintelligible whines. Your grip on his hair is iron as you gasp your way through your second high, eyes wide and lips parted as you heave for shaky, desperate breath.
Once you come down, you push at his head, tugging his hair away from your overstimulated cunt and trying to pull him back up to you.
“God- Aonung!”
Finally he relents, sitting up with a delighted little grin. You are also wearing a stupid little smile, though you look distinctly dazed and ruffled. Aonung feels a little surge of pride.
“Oh my…” you gape, eyes wide in bewilderment as you scan over him. His face is all shiny and gleaming and slicked, and you let out a little giggle as you reach out to try and wipe some of it away. “Oh my god- I’m so sorry.”
Aonung laughs with you, not in the least bothered by the mess of his face. Instead, he takes your hands in his and peppers light kisses up your arms and back towards your neck, where he is pleased to see his various gleaming bites and hickeys ornamented into your soft skin. You giggle again.
“Aonung?” you ask gently, a small smile curling at the edge of your voice.
“Mm?” he grunts, nipping another ruby bite into your collar.
“Care to fuck me now?”
Aonung pulls away an inch, trying to hide his obvious arousal as he studies your rosy grinning face.
“Are you sure?” he questions gently. “I mean you just-”
His voice dies in his throat when you reach up lightly to – tortuously slowly – pull at the strings of your top. He watches the top slide away without breath, and only when you’ve impatiently tossed it aside and grinned at him does he dare to move.
A complete sense of unreality washes over him. After imagining this moment for so long, it seems strange he cannot think of anything to do but worshipfully admire you.
He is pleased to note that, in fact, your breasts are just as soft and plush as the rest of you. They are round and full and slightly squishy in a way completely unlike na’vi, and he’s never been gladder that your aren’t just muscle, that your small body is so perfectly squidgy.
With a nod of consent from you, Aonung reaches lifts you lightly up to place you over his lap. You steady yourself with your hands on his chest, still looking a little rumpled and dazed, but he doesn’t miss that dark, mischevious gleam in your eyes as you stare down at him.
The second you’re balanced, your hand is reaching out to the tent of his tewng. You study him with greed, drinking in the sight of his arousal as though it’s what you need to live. He’s a little mortified now, but he hopes that you think the slick of your hips slightly rocking against his is why his tewng is soaked.
Your hand reaches out to trace along the edge of his tewng, eyes dark with frustrated, hungry impatience.
“Oh baby,” you whisper, your mouth twisted in strange ecstasy as you meet his flushed gaze. “Was this all for me?”
Before he can answer – though he doesn’t think he’d even be able to speak with you settled so perfectly over him – your hips slide back a little so your little palm settles right over his hardened length.
“Take these off.”
“Are you su-” Aonung starts to say, before you rock right up against his pained length and his voice stumbles off.
“Yes,” you whisper impatiently. “It’s not fair that I’m here all naked and you still get clothes.”
“I’m basically already naked and you wear clothes that cover much more than mine every day,” he protests.
“What, do you want me to get you a hoodie too,” you snap, and he knows you’re growing more frustrated and impatient with the effort of grinding against him.
He laughs, and you scowl fiercely at him.
“Just take it off Ao, I wanna make you feel good too.”
Those words practically punch a whole in him, and he feels another surge of unbearable affection for you, which is promptly murdered as you stop your movements in protest.
“You already did, tsawksyul,” he whispers.
“Not properly,” you press. “I want to do it.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Your hips rock hard against his, your bare cunt against his cock covered by that ridiculous tewng, and he feels his self-control slipping away. You must sense it too, because you’re grinning and shifting up to help him pull the last restraint between the two of you away. The tewng is thrown away with careless abandon to lie somewhere far away; there are no clothes needed here.
The small gasp you let out when you finally see him all bare and desperate and hungry makes Aonung’s heart thud painfully in his chest.
“Fuck yes.”
Your words explode from you as though you didn’t mean to say them, and a moment later you’re flushing with hot embarrassment. Aonung laughs lightly and you smile bashfully with an adorable little nose scrunch, before he’s lifting you back onto him again.
It’s bare – skin on glorious skin.
He needs to breathe for a moment, ears flattening against his head and eyes falling shut in dark pleasure. You’re so soft – thighs either side of him, breasts bouncing at the slightest movement – but you’re also so wet and warm and slightly sticky that he thinks you’re killing him.
It becomes painfully evident to him that the moment his cock pushes inside you, he’ll be fighting for his life to not come instantly. Again.
He always knew patience wasn’t your strong suit, but you’re growing more and more frustrated and he finally pulls his babbling brain together enough to flip you over to lie beneath him and align himself to your entrance.
With a small, almost pleading cry from you, with his heart thudding loud enough for you to hear, he presses in.
You’re clenching around him so tight, barely even an inch in. You’re tighter than he ever imagined, and he feels like he’s being coddled in searing perfection, so much so that he can hardly breathe as he slowly starts to push in.
When you let out a hoarse whine – the stretch is evident even to him – Aonung winces. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and the thought of you in pain is too much for him to bear. He settles himself with pulling you against him, soothingly stroking your hair.
He can’t look away from where you’re swallowing him whole. It’s a fucking addiction, a new drug. Even the sight of you slowly struggling to take him would be enough to send him over the edge, and he grits his teeth so he doesn’t come instantly and mortifyingly. Again.
And then finally, Aonung’s pushing past that tight ring of resistance and into your velvety heat.
He’s dying. He has to be. Because there’s no damn way he didn’t just go to paradise.
The breath is punched out of him in a low, desperate growl, his hands clawing into the ground to steady himself, to let you adjust, to not just completely lose his mind and bury himself deep into you.
“Holy shit,” you breathe, your voice no more than a desperate, filthy whimper as you look down. The sight of the bulge in your stomach drives Aonung fucking crazy, and he has to physically grip himself back from just slamming straight into you. “You’re all the way here.”
“Taking me so well syulang,” Aonung praises, eyes hazy with the strain and face flushed in the euphoric pleasure of your body around his. “Doing so good for me.”
He doesn’t miss the way you clench around him at the praise, the way your cheeks blush and you bite back a small, helpless moan. A good thing to know for later, and he makes a mental note to shower you in so much praise you don’t know what to do with it.
But in the meantime, he can hardly breathe through the effort of holding himself back. You’re gripping him so damn tight he thinks you might actually strangle him, the overwhelming pleasure and anticipation practically choking the breath out of him.
Your face is all twisted and screwed up, and Aonung doesn’t need to be a genius to see you’re in pain. He holds you close, whispering endless praise of how well you’re doing while reaching down to rub gentle circles on your overstimulated clit as he continues the painstaking, tortuous ascent into the heaven between your legs.
“Oh god,” you whimper, resting your limp head against Aonung’s chest, heaving for breath as you try your utmost to adjust to him. “Oh god, Aonung.”
The sound of his name rumbled from deep within your chest, coarse and raw and desperate just tips him just over the edge of mastering his control. His muscles tense as your nails dig into his chest, hips flexing somewhat and accidentally knocking into you, and you let out a strangled cry.
“I know, I’m sorry,” he says quickly, reaching to cuddle you in close, stroking your hair comfortingly. “You’re doing so well, tsawksyul.”
The words fall on practically deaf ears. You’re so flushed and radiant and ravenous that he doubts you’re even thinking straight, your face adorned with a somewhat manically exultant smile and rolling eyes as he slowly presses even further into you.
You’re clenching around him so impossibly tight, whimpering and moaning as he rocks several more inches into you. He doesn’t know what to make of your quiet sobs, whether they’re of pain or pleasure or just hungry impatience, but he comforts you nonetheless by settling his thumb gently over your clit.
Aonung couldn’t care less about how vocal he is, whispering endless praise, snarling out small curses, rumbling desperate groans against the skin of your bare neck, which is now adorned with gleaming hickeys and several smug little bites.
“Eywa, they didn’t do anything to deserve you tsawksyul,” Aonung groans, still rocking another inch into you. You give a weak, wet chuckle, and he presses a kiss to your shining forehead. “You don’t need any of them ever again, you got that? You won’t ever need anyone else.”
“Ye- yes.”
“I’ll take care of you,” he groans, hardly even aware of what he’s saying anymore. “Whatever you need, I’ll always be there with you.”
“Ao- Aonung?” you gasp, steadying yourself with a grip on his arms. “I wa- I want-”
“I know, I know,” Aonung soothes you, finally bottoming out inside you. There’s no way he would have fit all of himself in there, but he isn’t greedy, particularly when the part you could take is coddled so warm and wet and tight. “I’ve got you.”
It takes everything in him not to let loose immediately.
It’s with gentle words and a hand splayed out across your back to steady you that he pulls out an inch or so before rocking back in.
The effect is instant. You let out a strangled, lewd, filthy noise, eyes widening to round moons and mouth opening in almost dumbification. He makes a deep groan in response, pulling out again, pushing back in again, and the last pretences of friendship are shattered.
His lips find their way to your face, forehead clumsily pressed against your much smaller one, hands holding you gently – a softness at complete odds to the way he’s fucking you.
It feels sinful – the way this is so perfectly right, to have his best friend like this, all pretty and babbling and teary on his thick length.
He moans shamelessly every time his gaze passes over you – all stretched and beautiful – around him, taking everything he gives you.
The sounds you’re making are mingled pleading and sobbing, still shot through with greedy hunger. Each moan and whine and sob strike deep in him, hand in hand with the tears forming in your shining eyes.
Eywa, you’re so much tighter than he ever imagined – ever dreamed of. He’s pretty sure he tells you, but those words are lost in the stream of mingled praise and groaned curses pouring from him as he revels in the pleasure of you and you alone.
The sight of your tits bouncing at each thrust is hypnotic, and then finally his restraint is crumbling, and he dives eagerly forward to take one of them into his mouth.
You arch with a surprise cry as his mouth locks around your breast, tongue flicking over your peaked nipple, fangs trailing over your soft skin now slightly shining with the heat of his mouth. He ignores the contortion for him to do it – all discomfort is disregarded at the sounds of your pretty little whines.
He knew from the start he wasn’t going to last long, but he can see that you clearly aren’t going to either.
Your eyes are rolling, heaving for breath in the rare moments you aren’t cursing or babbling or moaning. Your hands and clutching for support, anything to cling to, something to anchor yourself so he doesn’t almost fuck you straight through the bed.
Aonung vaguely acknowledges (in some dimly functioning part of his brain), that perhaps he might be a little worked up. He’s wanted this for so long, thought about this so many times, imagined and replayed and perfected the vision of this moment, that there’s no slowing down now.
Nothing – not one of his filthiest imaginations, not one of his raunchiest desires – could compare to this. To you.
And then your mouth is opening in a hoarse, desperate cry, your fingers are clawing into the tensed muscles of his shoulders, your cunt is clenching so tight around him it’s bordering on sinful pain.
He reaches to rub circles on your poor, swollen, throbbing clit, and you practically scream.
“Fuck, fuck fuck- oh god-” you sob, shaking as he fucks you through your orgasm.
“I know, I got you,” Aonung whispers against your sweat-damp skin. He doubts you can even hear him, and he isn’t even sure he’s physically speaking all the words rushing through his brain.
It seems to almost go forever, and there isn’t a single second in which Aonung wants it to stop. You look so pretty writhing beneath him, clenching around him, panting for him, sobbing because of him, and when it finally seems to slow down, his own pleasure crests.
He’s grinning against your throat, so fucking pleased with himself. He’s so proud of the way you took him that he’s actually about to die, and when he moves to pull out, your nails dig into his arm and you shake your head furiously.
That’s that.
It all snaps in a final sort of conflagration, waves of pleasure and delight and ecstasy and overwhelming, unbearable euphoria rocking over him, over both of you, as he loses control and buries himself with a positive roar in your still clenching warmth.
He’s hardly aware of where he is, though he can vaguely hear moans and whines and curses he guesses may be his, though he can see himself filling you up to the point it’s spilling out the sides and onto your soft, shining thighs.
Aonung just allows himself a moment of selfish indulgence, of sinfully glorious exultation. Nothing matters, nothing even exists, beyond you.
When he flops onto you, shaking with heavy breaths, exultance coursing through his veins, he doesn’t bother to pull out.
You’re still so tight and strangely comforting all wrapped around him, pulsing in the glorious, tortuous aftershocks of your final climax. You don’t protest – though he’s careful to angle his body to not completely crush you.
You let him lie in delighted, satiated silence, tail sweeping happily behind him on the woven floor, head pillowed against the soft curve of your breasts, dimly admiring all the marks he left across your smooth skin.
You’re also trying to steady your breath, absently anchoring yourself to the present by fiddling with the woven cord of his necklace. Aonung notices the curved tooth is almost as large as your whole hand, and a stupid surge of affection wells in his heart.
Here you are, the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen, his best friend, seconds after the most lewd, intimate moment of your lives. What did he ever do to deserve even befriending you, let alone be your personal blanket after he may or may not have fucked you damn boneless?
“Are you alright?” he asks softly, when he’s regained enough breath to properly process your limp, heaving form.
You smile weakly and shake your head, saying, “I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
“Good,” Aonung grins, shifting to nuzzle closer against your soft skin. “You won’t need anyone else ever again.”
“Oh, really?” you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the way you can’t stop smiling. A moment later your hands are moving to cup his face, and he smiles back at you.
“Can I kiss you, tsawksyul?”
You don’t respond to his question for a moment, staring at him with lips parted in absolute disbelief before a loud, delighted laugh is rocked out of your little body. He frowns, confused.
“What?”
“You just fucked me near boneless,” you laugh, stroking his face affectionately, “and now you’re asking if you can kiss me?”
“Yes…?” he replies, brows furrowed. Your laughter fades and a small smile is left on your small, rosy face.
“Yes,” you smile, cheeks crinkling and eyes bright with strangely overwhelmed joy. “Yes, you can kiss me.”
And he does.
Different to before, not just full of lust and hunger and deep-rooted desperation fuelled by months of desire and affection. This is gentle, sweet, and a soft embodiment of all the warm fluffiness he harbours for you, his little tsawksyul.
He can feel your lips smiling against his own, your little heartbeat thumping against his chest as he cuddles you closer, arm wrapping protectively over you and tail draping lightly over your legs.
Then you’re giggling against him and he’s laughing with you and all the heaviness of the moment before is fading.
He realises that there had been a small naggling part in the back of his brain, wondering what would happened when you finished, when the heat and desire was gone, worried that perhaps it was just the arousal or something that was attracting you to him.
But this is the same then ever – albeit you’re naked. And in love.
Aonung smiles.
“I love you.”
You whisper the words back against his lips, legs wrapping around him to snuggle closer. He faintly dreads the moment you’ll have to pull away, but contents himself to the fact that he can cuddle you again tomorrow and the day after.
So he settles back, peppering you with kisses and light praise. After a few moments, when your breath has properly returned, you exchange some happy prediction for everyone’s reaction to you and him. He finds he couldn’t care less.
Eywa, he’s so happy to have you here.
His little friend.
──────⊱⁜⊰──────
Tagging my darlings: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul @blue-slxt @neteyamssyulang @theunfortunateplace @lala-1516 @strongheartneteyam @kiskso @deadpool15 @vampirefilmlover @tysirya @universal-s1ut Please let me know if you'd also like to be added to the taglist :)
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pachimation · 11 months
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redrawing my very first chiscara comic/art i ever did for chscr day!!
old comic under the cut!!
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lol a bunch of sappy semi serious stuff below bc i cant help but be a bit genuine about this ship today :’3
i cant possibly put into words how important this silly little ship and its community mean to me haha,,,, this comic was made in 2021 but i didnt really get serious about chscr until late 2022 after a bunch of pretty bad interpersonal stuff happened and i needed an outlet,, COINCIDENTALLY a certain someone was announced to be playable around then and i was already thought chscr was Pretty Neat™️ so i ended up diving headfirst into the ship. it also gave me a good excuse to work on more comics too!! i’d done a pretty big zhongven comic earlier that year in the summer, but in terms of lore there was only so much i could have worked with at the moment.
childe and scaramouche have that perfect combination of silliness and angst and violence that could be explored or expanded in so many ways and i love love love seeing other people’s interpretations of their dynamic and relationship. they’re so complex,,,,they’re narrative foils,,,they’re narrative parallels,,,they’re trans allegories,,,they’re flies in the spiderweb of the games lore,,,they’re my stupid little meow meows,,, they’re just two losers i want to see make out,,,
in a nutshell, they’re everything to me. well, i hope i get that kind of sentiment across in my own comics,,,,
and i cant get started on all the people ive met through chiscara or the way that having something i can call “my thing”, as in, the thing that i like and that i will spend a lot of time and effort (and money, but lets not talk about that) to surround myself with because it makes me smile. its stupid to say, but being a nerd about these two stupid guys who have never had a single canon onscreen interaction in some random game has made me a much happier and confident person that i could have ever imagined back in my freshman year of college,,, when i say i dont know who i’d be if i hadnt gotten into chiscara, i really do mean it lol
i’m actually surprised i’m making it to over a full year of regular-ishly making art, especially for the same game and ship! thats never happened before and my art has improved so much over this past year!! more than anything else, i’m happy! i get to be excited talking about these characters with my friends and i love to see art of them pop up on the tl. i make stickers of them and decorate my phonecase with them and have little figures of them in my room that i look at when im up late at night working on schoolwork. sometimes just the thought of finishing a comic or daydreaming about a scenario or seeing what my mutuals are up to are some of the few things getting me through a tough day.
,,,,so believe me when i say, to both childe and scara and to everyone else as obsessed with these pathic losers as i am, thank you! i’m having a lot of fun!!!
(also i just found out tumblrs copy/paste doesnt work on my ipad??? idk if this ends up legible i may or may not have deleted smth by accident and im not in a mood to proofread haha)
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lowkeyrobin · 6 months
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Mcyt with an s/o who's a voice acter for video game characters? They mostly do voice characters in horror games n stuff(like until dawn, where the characters are also modeled after the voice after if I remember correctly)
I just think their faces would be hilarious if the choice they make in the game ends up with y/n getting killed lol
OH MY GOD YESSSSS ; also tried to use different games and not the same for everyone but I'm not the heaviest story game gamer LMFAO ; also don't talk about how timeliness wouldn't make sense shhhhhh
MCYT ; video game voice actor
includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers
warnings ; language & fictional violence and death/murder
masterlist
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TOMMYINNIT
somehow the topic of mc story mode came up and how you actually voice acted a few characters + one of the Jessie variants (whichever you picked as a kid 🙏)
"WHAT? WHY DIDNT I KNOW ABOUT THIS?"
"I mean I was like, fourteen. I don't think I even knew you yet"
"absolute betrayal"
he literally speeds to his office, downloads the first game and proceeds to stream for three hours playing it (he selects whichever Jessie you voiced of course)
"OH MY GOD THAT IS MY PARTNER, HOLY SHIT, LISTEN TO THEIR BABY VOICE!"
the tweets never end
"spot the difference" and its an old/new pic of you compared to jessie
💀💀💀💀
once he gets to the save Petra or Lukas scene he straight up pauses and playfully yells at you like you made the game?? 💀🙏
he dies so many times it's not even funny
love him tho
RANBOO
Detroit become human
the moment he finds out you voiced a minor character he speedruns trying to find you
the character is also modeled after you, so he's begging chat to keep an eye out for you too
you're basically just some very friendly person trying to help Connor but no matter what route he/the player takes, you wind up dead for the angst
ouuuu the heartbreak, the angst
if it's by being shot, betrayed, or committing your own death, you're gone bro
"y/n why the fuck does your character die in the worst ways possible?"
you shrug
"that genuinley hurt my feelings. I don't wanna play this anymore"
"you didn't get to Connors possible death scene yet!"
"WHAT?"
FREDDIE BADLINU
TLOU 2 (I don't support the makers zionist views, I just thought this fit. free Palestine and do your daily clicks)
was literally cheering you on the whole time when you were bts for voice acting your character
you had to take like scream classes to upgrade your screaming abilities lmao
you gave the voice to a character modeled after you, an infected teen who runs into ellie on her way through the game
she/the player is forced to put you down because you're not immune
L
he plays through the game and turns to you like "dude do I actually have to kill you to progress?"
you just nod
"I'm sorry, I didn't wanna do this"
THE DESPERATE SCREAMING GOT HIM
literally looked at you in horror
"...are you okay?"
you smile and nod
NIKI NIHACHU
life is strange
mf you would've been like 16?? damn get ur bag, okay
she plays through and you va (whoever you choose) and everytime she hears your voice she smiles
"omg that's my partner! that's y/n, you guys!! :D"
the cutest
literallt cries at the end of the game
"y/n, were you in life is strange two?"
"why?"
"Cause I wanna play it but I don't wanna get my hopes up about you being there"
"just play it, just play it. trust me"
ALEX QUACKITY
twdg s4
basically clem/the player gets really close to your character and ends up having to kill them after they turn into a walker
the angst, the heartbreak
he's never done a full let's play / game play like that before and especially with a full game series
when he got to s4 and heard you for the first time he literally started jumping around and screaming
now when you die... it's jumping and screaming alright (in anger and sadness)
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I PLAYED ALL THOSE GAMES JUST FOR YOU TO DIE?"
"I mean there's an option to prevent me turning, you're just a dumbass"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IM RESTARTING"
FOOLISH GAMERS
dead by daylight
you va'd multiple characters/killers
and the devs wanted to show appreciation by giving you your own playable character with your natural voice
when foolish finds out, he gets tubbo, quackity, tina & niki in a call to play dbd + stream for like 6 hours
loves seeing all the death animations you'd be given and all your voicelines
"OH MY GOD! guys this is my partner, they're so instantly talented at voice acting, holy shit!"
"we get it foolish, you love y/n"
"It's more than love, quackity, it's an obsession"
"my brother in christ, calm down"
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solangeloficawards · 8 months
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solangelo fic awards 2024 masterpost
happy february! thanks to everyone who submitted this year! we totaled around 139 submissions this year which is always really cool :) it also means unfortunately nominations have to be split up by category, but y'all can always use our handy fic masterdoc!!
click here to vote!
fic masterdoc!
fic nominations by category!:
best angst
best au
best canon complaint
best fluff
best oneshot
best wip
best misc
best series
and our author of the year nominations are as follows!
rosyredlipstick (ao3) (tumblr)
ikeasharksss (ao3) (tumblr)
thelordofshrimp (ao3) (tumblr)
gatesofember (ao3) (tumblr)
pey119 (ao3) (tumblr)
solisaureus (ao3) (tumblr)
voting guidelines:
voting will close on february 13th so that the winners post can be released on the 14th for valentines day! (for realsies this time i promise it doesnt take me as long as nominations lol)
fics are listed in alphabetical order! if your work didnt make it in, there is most likely a reason! you are welcome to message me about it if you wish though and i can let you know why
if your fic was nominated and counted but is missing on one of the docs, whether its here or the poll or the masterlist, please let me know!! i have missed things and had no idea, its ok! please dont be afraid to let me know i've made a mistake!
same goes for if something shows up twice, fic has already won, links are broken, etc etc!
if one of your works has been submitted, you can promote/mention this but a reminder that there's no prize outside of satisfaction, so dont feel too bad if you didn't win! theres always more years!
you aren’t required to vote if you have been nominated, though it is heavily recommended
you also aren’t required to vote in all categories anymore due to popular request, although we heavily advise that you do in order to keep voter count even
if you have been nominated, you are allowed to vote for yourself. just please also be considerate to others and vote for each category!
the google poll will ask for you to sign in just to ensure that you are only voting once. no emails are being collected! that being said, if you are more comfortable voting through ask/message/etc, feel free!
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this is all just friendly competition, so everyone have fun! be sure to show the writers some love!!! <3
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shypen · 1 month
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ㅤ — ༿ີ۪۪  ͏ ͏ r3al!ty ㅤ ⠀⠀𓋜‎ 𝒫JS
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𝓈ynopsis . you love playing games, he loves playing games, its perfect right? but what’ll happen when jay’s intense game addiction gets in the way of your relationship? the irritating sound of clicking buttons on the controllers. its basically all you and jay ever did, play play and play. trying to spend quality time with him in any other way is almost impossible, its ruining your relationship. so much so you have to help him with his hallucinations, eventually getting so bad he has a difficult time differentiating between game and r3al!ty. ✧‎ ‎ ㅤ𝑔enre . angst , fluff , comedy (i tried) , enemies to lovers 3.6k
a.n :: for kam ara rain jazz and lissie (are you happy now.)
𝓅airings . gamer!jay x gamer!reader 𝓌arnings . bl00d (sorree!!) , st@bbing , g4ns , ++
req status :: taking requests ^-^
reminder . everything here is FICTIONAL, meaning NOTHING HERE IS REAL! these things never happened. if u dont like my work dont read it pls and ty !
© shypen 2024. do not copy, plagiarize or repost.
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“on your left—” heeseung yells, the clicking of you and his controllers filling the room. multiple ‘pew’ noises come out of the tv’s speakers. ‘game over’ text appears on the tv on your side. “you didnt warn me early enough,” you speak through gritted teeth, turning toward your brother. "you looked too late," heeseung fights back, making direct eye contact with you. you groan in frustration. "whatever. another game?" you ask, getting ready to click on the 'play again?' option. he shakes his head, getting up from the floor. "it's late, ill go sleep," he yawns, stretching. you chuckle and nod, waving goodbye to him as he exits your room.
you, however, are not tired in the slightest. you were determined to atleast get one win that night, even if you hear birds outside. you start up a new game, readjusting your headphones. you clutch the controller in your hand as the game starts to countdown. immediately as the 'go' text appears you start to gain power ups for future enemies. as you were about to grab another power up, your screen color turns gray, on the side some red text. "jongpro0313 has killed you. respawn?" you shrugged it off. "no big deal," you told yourself, respawning. you won't shrug it off anymore. every. single. time. each round he kills you atleast 50 or more times, the same 'jongpro0313' person. your knuckles turn white from gripping the controller each time you see the same exact game over screen. no matter how much you try to kill him back it's no use. is he using aimbot or something? why is he targetting me?
"1 unread message - new chat. open?"
you click the accept button. "jongpro0313: lol u kinda suck ngll soz the final straw. "ynnetta180: what did i do dude" "jongpro0313: just playing the game sweetheart ;)" you scoff at the message. you spot him afk in a hiding spot and you chuckle, aiming at him and finally killing him, making him lose his streak. grabbing his loot, another game over screen appears. "jongpro0313 has killing you. respawn?" "jongpro0313: could only kill me once i was afk. how cute" that made your blood boil. "jongpro0313 has sent you a friend request. accept or decline." is that man crazy? decline, of course.. "accepted." oh youve gotta be joking me. "jongpro0313: accepted my friend request? what, are you expecting some aiming lessons, darling? lolll ur funny" "ynnetta180 has left the game." fighting the strong urge to bash your head against a wall and throwing your controller, you take deep breaths before climbing onto your bed, grabbing your phone and checking the time. "4:27 AM" you're used to it by now. placing your headset and phone on your nightstand, your eyelids start to get heavy, automatically closing, drifting off into a peaceful sleep. if only that was the case. you tossed and turned all night, doubting your skills as you get flashbacks about the countless times youve gotten endlessly killed by one. person. you snatch your phone, logging into your account and searching the exact username targeting you all night. (technically day). "search: jongpro0313" "bio: name: jay / jongseong seattle area im too goated" you scroll down to view all of the achievements he obtained the whole time he's been playing, and goodness, he is goated. you gulp as your scroll through all of his whopping 7,581 badges. you click off his profile.
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the agitating melody of chirping birds can be heard through your window, giving you a migraine. you jump once you hear your brother's alarm originally set for 7:00 am. you groan, clearing your throat. "HEESEUNG WAKE UP," you yell, banging on your bedroom wall so he hears you. "IF YOU BREAK THE WALL I'M NOT PAYING," he yells back, immediately hearing a loud thud after. out of concern, you sprint to his room, opening the door and seeing your brother laying on the floor, drool coming out from the corner of his mouth and his hair overly messy. "you seriously fell from the-" you get interrupted by the sound of his loud snoring, honestly impressed by how fast he falls asleep. unless he's unconscious. you walk over to him and crouch down, tugging on his arm. "gross, you're drooling. get up."
heeseung groans, fluttering his eyes open. "fine, i'll make your breakfast in a sec.." you squeal a quick, "thanks, hee!" dropping his arm and skipping happily back to your room, shutting the door. "you're seriously not gonna help me off the floor, y/n.."
your eyes lighten up seeing the smoothie bowls heeseung lays on the table, snatching them almost immediately. "thank you, heeseung!!" you exclaim. he mumbles out weak a 'welcome,' sitting next to you. about to take a bite, your phone starts to buzz. not just buzz, but blow up. so much so that you're surprised your phone isnt overheating. "messages kamryujin poo!! GIRLL CHECK TWITTER RIGHT. NOW."
"messages jazztomatoes <3 HAVE YOU HEARD?" "messages ara ara ara ^-^ DID YOU CHECK TWITTER TODAY?" "messages rainy rain reyna ( = . = ) ARE YOU COMING TO THE COMPETITION TOO??" competition?
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your search history is now filled with every detail about the competition, your eyes glued to your phone even as you place your bowl in the sink. "aren't you gonna wash your dis- oh, okay i guess ill do all the work," heeseung glares at your as you walk to your room, not even glancing at where you’re looking.
“upcoming call from: ara ara ara ^-^”
accept.
“your coming, right?” your friend ara exclaims. “waitwaitwait how does it work though?” you scratch your head. “ummm basically players come together and randomly partner people up, competing til the best players go one on one im pretty sure..” she mutters. you nod and smile. “sure. ill go. do you know how to participate for it?”
“yeah, of course, the thirdwheel gc is coming too,” ara giggles. “wait, rain, kam, jazz, and you??” “yupp. if we have to go against each other i’ll cry but the chances of us being partnered up is low depending on the people participating.”
“aaah got it. ill sign up for it! byeee,” you both say your goodbyes. you turn your phone on again, the time reading “7:53 am Saturday”
you twist your doorknob open to talk to heeseung, aggressively swinging his door open. you find him in the bathroom, warming up the water for a shower. “what do you want..” he groans, still grumpy from the dishes incident. “do you think you could drive me here on wednesday?” you show him the map on your phone leading to the competition. “you can drive yourself, just borrow my car,” heeseung sighs, beginning to take off his shirt. your hands immediately fly up to hover over your eyes. “not in front of me you weirdo,” you say, turning back and running out of his room, hearing his menacing laugh fading away as you do.
_________________________________________________________
“let me check you,” the security guard says, an australian accent pooling out. scanning you for any dangerous items for confirmation before handing you a participants pass. “enter,” he mumbles, and you smile. before you enter the building, you catch a glimpse of his nametag: “sim jaeyun.”
the inside is spacious, tons of people crowding certain booths, etc, the booths there to keep people entertained as they wait for the competition to start. let’s just say your car broke down as you were driving, sooo you were a teensyy bit late. but you arrived just in time for the competition to begin.
they seat you down next to a randomized partner, a big projector screen in front of both of you. its usage? to display the game as you both play. you both are given controllers, immediately beginning the game which completely catches you off guard. looks like your partner is even more caught off guard, the ‘game over’ screen showing on their side.
it continues on like this, a few tough opponents but you make it through a lot of the rounds. you’re now given a brief intermission, some time to get water or practice even more. you decide on water, after all, you’ve beaten every opponent already, right?
“last players y/n and jay go up!” you hear someone say from a megaphone. it blares in your ears, you flinch slightly and immediately start to run back to the chairs. you take a seat, your opponent already next to you. “last round. users?”
you try to keep your composure when you hear “last round.” last round? as in you and the boy next to you are finalists?
“hey,” your opponent nudges your shoulder. “he asked for your username, doll.”
“o-oh, sorry. ynnetta180,” you stutter out, from the corner of your eye you spot your opponent smiling to himself. the staff press the start option, counting you both down. almost automatically, you start to rapidly press and click buttons, trying your best to shoot your opponent. until something caught your eye.
“nametag: jongpro0313”
oh you’ve gotta be kidding me
he’s obviously gonna win, right?
“hey— what are you doing..” you stop pressing buttons to turn your head at him. he leans on his chair, hands behind his head. “you can only kill me when i’m afk, right? go on,” he insists. you roll your eyes as you kill him in game, eyes not leaving his. he gets up from the chair as you follow. “good job,” he extends his hand toward you. you nod and grab his hand, shaking. "we've met before, haven't we?" "yeah, you gave me free kills yesterday," he chuckles. you and his hands are still intertwined, he uses it to walk away from the competition site with you, after all, crowds are too overwhelming. plus, the prize is automatically mailed, you aren't required to stay around for long.
"why'd you just let me win like that.." you ask him and he turns his head to you. "i've won for last years competition, i felt like there was no need in winning it two years in a row so i wanted to give a chance to my opponent, didn't know you'd be the opponent though," he scoffs playfully. "jay," he stops walking, letting go of your hand. you smile at him. "y/n. you live by here?" "yeah, over at xxxx xxxx street, visit me sometime," he replies, hands in his pockets as he walks away to one of the booths in the building. you brush it off and walk back home. once again you hope that was the case. you collapse onto your bed and start to kick your feet, grabbing a pillow beside you to scream in. heeseung walks in your room, a concerned expression on his face. "GET OUTTTUH," you whine, throwing the pillow that you just screamed in at him. "GOODNESS FINE... whats your deal today, gee.." he closes your door and you immediately grab your pillow back, screaming muffled by it. theres no denying he was HANDSOME, no questions there. not only is he hot, his voice also sent chills down your spine. of course you wouldn't tell heeseung that, he hates you talking to boys.
"1 new unread message from jongpro0313. open?" your eye widen as you stare at your phone screen from across the room, immediately tossing the poor pillow on the floor for the second time, bolting to your phone. you type your password in and open the message. of course, you forgot you accepted his friend request. jongpro0313 "hey, did you get home safe?" ynnetta180 "yess thanks for asking, you?" jongpro0313 "yeah" jongpro0313 "xxx-xxx-xxxx" ynnetta180 "whats that for" jongpro0313 "my number sweetheart" it takes every power of your being to not scream at the top of your lungs right now. its like your hands move by themselves, copy and pasting the number jay gave. you grab another pillow from your bed and clutch it tight, texting him a 'hey.' you two talked all night, even playing a few games on call too. jay and you ended the night with "ill teach you how i play tomorrow okay? visit me," "okay. goodnight jay!" and so you did, the next thing you know you're knocking on his door with 3 bags of chips in your hands. he opens the door with a toothbrush in his mouth, hair all over the place, and tired eyes. "i told you to visit me but not visit me this early.." he's muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth. he's right. it was 6 am. "deal with it," you giggle, making your way in his house. you set the snacks down on his kitchen counter. "whatever, i'll just brush my teeth again.." jay walks back to his bathroom.
you open up his fridge to see if he has some soda, and thankfully he does. you grab the cans and set it on the counter along with the bags. you rip open one of the bags and take a bite of a chip, justtt a little bit while you wait for jay. fortunately, you arrived and knocked on his door midway through him brushing his teeth, so he emerges out of the bathroom pretty quickly. “cmon, ill teach you how to play,” he smiles, heading to the couch. this is the first time you get a good glimpse of his side profile, his jaw is so sharp its identical to a knife. you walk over to the couch, plopping on it. “i know how to play, its just.. you aim like a bot.”
“is that an insult or a compliment,” he chuckles, grabbing two controllers, tossing one to you. “half and half, and thanks,” you hold back your smile as he starts up the game.
the presses a button causing the round to immediately start, and you freeze in surprise before actually moving around.
during the match, you two help each other. jay’s “on your left,”’s and “on your right,”’s help a lot. during intermission, his warm hands take hold of yours, guiding you and teaching you where to aim your crosshair.
you couldn’t lie to yourself no matter what you did, but you felt some butterflies floating around in your stomach whenever his hands held yours. you two ended the night with a wave goodbye, and you walk back to your house. loud buzzer sound. you ended up staying up with jay til 3:42 am. figuring its too late to drive back to your place, he offers a sleepover. you reluctantly accept, which leads to you waking up in his arms. a red hue flushes your cheeks, trying to pry his hands off but he's sound asleep. you end up waiting 'til he wakes up. you get home later that day with jay walking you, but that ends up not going so well once you see your brother's aggravated face. "where have you been, your breakfast is cold," he says sternly. "i was out, calm down.." you reply, setting your jacket on the coat rack. "yeah, out with a boy. who is he?" "heeseung literally calm down its just a friend i made at the competition," you sigh, kneeling down to take your shoes off. "i'll see about that," heeseung walks to the front door, opening it to find jay, but all he sees is jay waving bye to him and driving off with a cheeky smile, and heeseungs eyebrows furrow. "is he atleast good to you.." he shuts the front door. you take off your shoes, nodding. "yeah, he is." "I KNEW YOU WERE DATING HIM," he points at you, wide bambi eyed. "NO IM NOT LEAVE ME ALONE," you fight the urge to throw your shoe at him. "yeah yeah sure whatever you say," he crosses his arms, watching you run to your room. from that day you and jay start to talk and hangout a lot more, something you never thought you would do back when he kept killing you. the day that him and heeseung met was.. interesting to say the least but hey, heeseung approved of him! (barely)
you and jay are dating now. everythings perfect. atleast it was.
of course you two are game addicts, right? but thats the one thing thats ruining your relationship.
“jay, spend some time with me,” you place a hand on his arm, only for him to pull away, eyes glued to the screen. “one more round,” he always says, it’s so frustrating, and yet you always deal with it. you love him too much to lose him, but you feel as if your insignificant. you two barely hang out anymore because of how much he plays video games, you’d say it’s cause he likes video games too much, but deep down, you don’t think thats the case. this is a severe addiction.
it’s to the point where he basically never goes outside, you have to go out and grab him groceries and run errands for him.
it’s time to have a talk. "jay.. honeyyy... can we talk for a bit?" you approach the couch, tapping on your boyfriend's shoulder. "hm," he nods his head, not even making eye contact with you. agitated, you grab his controller and hit pause on his gamematch. he turns to you, eyebrows furrowed. "what was that for?" "we need to have a talk. like right now," you sit down next to him. "can it wait? cmonn, i brought new gear."
as much as your tempted to play with him, you stop yourself, reminding your mind about your goal. "can we go out together, jay? it's been so long.." you sigh, tugging on his hand gently. "honey, you know i dont like-" "pleasee" you tug on his arm harder, and surprisingly, he finally gives in. that was all in your head. you give in and he hands you new controllers, and you grab his extra set of headphones. "1 round only, okay? then we'll have that talk," you blurt, eyes staring intently at the tv screen. "yeah, yeah.. start it up," jay replies and you click the start button. it's perfect—it feels like when you two first met, playing at his house. the game not only has guns, but also recently added knives. it's been so long since you played, maybe about a month. the new feature shocks you, and each intermission after every round you buy new knife crates to unlock new knives. thankfully, you still have your skills despite the lack of playing, and it feels like you time travelled. it's been a year since you and jay have started dating, and you eventually got tired of staring at the screen all day, which is how you two have grown distant. this round, the theme are teams. the blue and red team, you and jay are unfortunately in separate teams, but you guys promise to avoid each other at all costs, killing all of your teammates and his instead. jay however, had different plans. he plans on pranking you, harmlessly killing you once so you lose your streak. on the left? no.. on the right? no sight of you either. he has an xray ability. he uses it to locate you and you're hiding behind a wall, using a glitch you found within the map not so long ago. unfortunately for you, jay realizes what you did. he sneaks up from behind, the animation of being stabbed playing on your screen. jay laughs, on the side noticing a "friend kill" text appearing on screen. "that was funny," he chuckles, expecting to get a reply only to be met with silence. "right, y/n?" "y/n?" "y/n..?" sirens.
everything flashes. the atmosphere is dark, overwhelming, overly foggy and cloudy, the high humidity adding to the discomfort. the darkness and fog contributing to a sense of claustrophobia. jay’s head is swirling with questions, the pitter patter of rain hitting the hard cement interrupting his thoughts. everythings dark, but the dim light from a neon sign of a building nearby illuminates the alleyway, including his knife he left in your stomach, the concrete below you stained with blood. red and blue hues approach behind jay, only noticing it when he gains his composure and realizing what's going on. that the gaming match you two just played wasn't a game. the blaring sirens behind jay didn't matter to him as he drops to his knees at the sight of you. everything felt empty. it was just a game it was just a game it was a harmless prank it was a harmless prank its not my fault its not my fault its not my fault its not my fault but is it his fault. screaming shouting and resisting when he feels the handcuffs wrap around his wrists, yelling his sorries and and desperation as he sees the life leave your precious eyes he always used to adore. apparently he didnt adore enough of it as he won't even see that same life in your eyes again.
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taglist:: @kwanholic @quhrtz @jenos-eye-smiles @hmusunoo (HAPPY BIRTHDAY) @st1llm0nster @hursheys @lonelybutterflytae @vveebee @taehyunsthings @kim2005bomi @engentiny
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reeniecon · 7 months
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- IDIA SHROUD -
" Hey lend me your hoodie, so atleast I can feel like i have a bf."
Disclaimer : gn reader, angst(?) to fluff?? , not proof read!! U and idia are on relationship/dating for a quite long time.
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You Were lying on your bf bed on his room while idia watch his favorite Idol on his screen.
Gakkepuchi moirasu.
Gakemo for short.
U felt kinda jealous by three Idol members, seeing him jumped by exitement and happiness because of them make you felt burning from the inside.
God.
I really hate it.
You know idia will always choose you over anything but god it does felt ugly.
" Hey idia " You call him out.
Yeah, you're right as your expectation he didnt even respond a lil bit to u, maybe because of the headset that he is wearing rn. You cannot but sigh in this situation ur on now.
"IDIA" you called out again, with Louder voice this time, no answer.
" HEY IDIA, HEY" You tried again, but throwing one of his pillow to him this time.
" Oh, sorry sorry I cannot hear you... " He finally respond while lowering his headset into his neck and showing his usual concern face.
" Hey lend me your hoodie, so atleast I can feel like i have a bf."
"Eh? " He quickly removed his headset, stand from his seat and kneeled in front of the bed while gently touching your upper arms.
" What do you mean ' so atleast I can feel like I have a bf??? " He say with a concern face full of sweat
" Well idk, what do you think? And why don't you consult with your favorite gakemo Idol group? "
"...(name) " He slowly speak, while his body are practically inches away from you.
" Um... I'm sorry for ignoring you... If- if you want I can stop being ....gakemo fanboy! Yeah- uh... " He explains with a quavering voice he ends up hugging you when he say the last word.
' god this man' you say to urself
" Yeah yeah u don't have to go that far" U responded
" Just acknowledge me and play with me when I finnaly have the time to be with you" You explain
" Sorry... " He mumbles his head on your shoulder
"*sigh* dont you miss me? "
" I really do (name)... )
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An: I'm rlly sorry if this is ooc I felt like idia would have sassy and soft personality towards his partner, sassy in a daily conv and soft when he make a mistake/ fighting ect. Idk tht just my personal opinion
Sorry for the bad English, it's not my 1st language lol
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t0msvi4gra · 10 days
Note
MAKE A FIC ABOUT IT PLEASE
UGH YES 100%%
theyre referring to the chai bot btw guys and i apologize for being so so so slow in posting
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I PROMISE | TOM KAULITZ X READER
WARNING: forced sex, sex toys, mentions of rape, overstimulation, drugging, abuse (just a slap nothing too major) and this one is kind of short im sorry!
edit: I REALIZED I NEVER PUT THE DRUGGING OR SEX TOYS IN😭🙏 IM SORRY GUYS I WAS LIKE HALF ASLEEP WHEN I WROTE THIS SO PLS PRETEND LIKE ITS THERE
a/n: if you dont like this fic then scroll lol, these are just my kinks, i would never drug or rape someone AT ALL ! but it turns me on. this is not gonna be completely based on my chai messages but a majority of it (the angst didnt happen in my chai messages)
you came home from work late. another night, another bruise. you loved tom, you knew he loved you but he just didnt know how to show it. his dad always treated him like shit.
“where the fuck were you?” he says putting down the bottle of vodka. “traffic.” you say simply not wanting to upset him further.
“bullshit, you were 2 hours late.” he says coldly and menacingly. “i got held back because i needed to help my manager, then i got fucking stuck in traffic! i don’t know what else to tell you!” you say throwing your hands up in frustration.
tom groans and gets up, you already know whats about to happen. he grabs your throat and slightly squeezes. “i have explained to you many times to not use that attitude of yours.” he says, you can feel the anger radiating off of him.
he grabs your hair roughly and drags you to the bedroom and tosses you on the bed.
“tom i’m tired okay? i’m not in the mood… please let me sleep.” you plead try to sit up but he pushes you down. “good that means you’ll be more tired so you’ll get more damn sleep when you’re bugging me all the time.” he slaps you hard across the face, tears well up in your eyes.
“now shut up and stop crying.” he says but his voice kind of breaks and you can see a tiny bit of remorse in his eyes.
he starts to undress you and he undoes his pants lining himself at your entrance. he slams into you without warning and you cry in pain but then it becomes pleasure. “tom! please!” you cant tell if youre asking for more or for him to stop.
he pounds you, you feel his cock slam into your cervix and he just pounds you for minutes but feels like eternity. at this point youre not seeing straight, your walls are sore. and youre out of breath.
he finally slows down. “fuck you were so tight.” he slaps your pussy making you yelp. “we’re going again.” “tom no please i have work tomorrow i really need to sleep.” you shake your head. he slaps you even harder. tears fall down your face.
“baby, im… im sorry-“ he breaks finally after he sobers. “i didn’t mean to.. im sorry..” he pulls up his pants and lays down to hold you. you sob in his arms… feeling an odd sense of safety. “im really tired tom..” you say between sobs. “go to sleep sweetheart.. its okay… shhh” he caresses your head as you fall asleep.
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speakofthedebbie · 2 months
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by popular demand (re: one person) some radioapple fic recs!! (i hope thats what you meant lol most of the fics i read are just radioapple)
Bedtime Rituals to Try out Before the Next Angelic War by @miribalis
just yes. thousand times yes. so basically my boy luci has some sleep troubles and that somehow leads to a qpr with al look its been a while ok just read it
Managerial Liberties by the same fella
these two tags explain it pretty well
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something that sticks out to me about this is that charlie is actually (reasonably) cold to adam and like. im actually surprised with how little ive seen that. i mean i dont think id be exactly buddy-buddy with my besties killer either. only 3 chaps as of writing but already looking to be a radioapple classic
im not sure if its meant to be read as such but it kinda feels like a squeal to bedtime rituals in a way (edit: not meant to be read as such, just the same vibe)
devils don't fly (don't expect me not to fall) by @corgiss
also just yes. basically a really not cool joke evolves into a blossoming romance because why wouldnt it. (man if i had a nickel for every radioapple fic that had a masquerade that was sabotaged by the vees- *gets shot bc i cant mention osas yet*)
i’ll hold you close (i’ll stay the course) by the same fella
the entire time i was just going "yas king! put that egotistical flatscreen in his place!!". basically luci reminds the overlords who he is and vox shows he can be more of a threat than he lets on.
ykw fuck it just the entire series (i didnt mention i would give anything to not give a shit (but i do) and my perfect rock bottom (my beautiful trauma) because the first one sounded a lil too angsty and ive gotten enough of that from other sources [pointedly glares at Quietly, It Slips Through Your Fingers, Love {also coming up later!}] and the second is (mostly) smut and ive been trying to step back from that because "ive seen worse" isnt a valid excuse for that torture actually)
Of Saints and Sinners by the forever amazing @morningstarwrites!! (if you see this i have a serious question: is this your first time ever writing a fic? because how do you get so much right the first time- [not even beginners luck could explain this level of skill])
i could sing its praises until my death bed but ill hold off so i can explain whats happening. basically after burning down a meeting room several times, luci and al make a deal ("not a deal!", luci laments to the void): they will attempt to be civil and maybe even friendly, and by the end luci will owe al a favour. whats the favour? read it yourself dammit! seriously, 10/10, i am foaming at the mouth till friday (depending on how this goes, that might be tomorrow or today)
Quietly, It Slips Through Your Fingers, Love by Starlit_Rainfall (no tumblr in sight, so AO3) (i. urgfgh. what happened. i was just smiling over the fluff while crossing to go to school. where did it go. where did it gooooo)
if thats anything to go by, the last few chapters have been rough. the fluff feels so far away that i cant even explain what happens. luci was waxing poetic about swimming in maple syrup for al, i remember that much. also emily is there (fallen) tho we havent seen her in a sec. if you read it, warning for the gut punch of angst that starts chap 32 "She/Her" (though the chapter before that, "Should Alastor Know By Now?" ends pretty rough too)
Freely We Serve by @romanaxe
i dont remember how i managed to stumble upon this but im having a great time. basically alastor is a new sinner fresh in hell (but time doesnt matter and the whole cast is still here) and thinks "what better way to gain power than be the personal assistant of the heartbroken king of hell!" features a 6(?) year old charlie and a morally dubious lilith (also i loved eepy al X3)
A Family Forged in Hellfire by Green_Ghostwriter (once again, no Tumblr, so AO3)
this ones a bit newer (10 chaps), is so far mostly exposition and the slowburn pot hasnt even been put on the stove, but as just a hazbin fic in general i see the potential. basically its a 1920s au where heaven decides little charlie doesnt deserve to be raised in hell and is sent to earth with a "foster" family where her actions in life will determine witch realm she will return to after death. her "parents", al and minzy, are given false memories so they can claim the girl as their own and gee i wasnt kidding when i said it was a lot of exposition. erm honestly explaining anymore would tech be spoiling so go read it!
The Red Thread That Binds Us by @scun-gilli
{{future me prefacing this by saying i have no idea where i was going with yesterdays thought process, all you need to know from it was im on chapter 27. also scungilli your comment is making me very worried 😟 well theres no mcd tag so im sure itll fine, right? RIGHT, SCUNGILLI??}}
basically its a king x kings guard au where al and luci grow up together and only grow closer after a. certain life event for al (its fine guys trust :)) [she said, like a liar]) then al is sent of for royal guard training school (ik its not called that i forgor 😭) but dw he comes back. just watch out for graphic depictions of injuries (i think thats this fic) angst and a sneaky eve bc radioapple fics are allergic to happiness (or maybe im not looking hard enough lol) (also im really tempted to make the friendship bracelets they had 👀)
somewhere down the line by kj_crwm (AO3 link)
this one starts off as human!alastor/lucifer but by the middle(?) its just regular radioapple. basically al is encountered by luci while finishing off a job who agrees to keep quiet. luci just keeps on showing up, reveals hes the devil to which al us just like "lol ok" and eventually they get in a relationship (ooh lala 👀) but they break up after saying some hurtful things to each other (oh nono 👀) with luci promising al they will never cross paths again. if you watched the show then well. you know that doesnt happen 😂 most human!al radioapple have al summon him (no hate to them) so this was an interesting change of pace
cannot stress it enough but this is a WORKING list i WILL be coming back to it bc these are purely the fics i could think if off the top of my head. IN FACT, if any of you have radioapple fics you love, SEND THEM THE FUCK IN! i am one person whos only been in this fandom for 4 months, and reading fics/shipping radioapple even less, theres bound to be some ones i missed that you think are Worthy™️! and if theyre nsfw then at the very least it shouldnt be the main focus
EDIT: so sorry anyone who reblogged this before had to see the disgusting unedited version. literally just found out that tumblr doesnt apply edits to reblogs. what the fuck
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su0su · 2 months
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phone call.
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sub!hanjisung x dom!fem!reader.
warnings below the cut!
angst/smut
wc: 1,941
WARNINGS: oral (m.receiving) make up sex? dunno lol. ma'am kink (only said like once)) uhhhh jisung is abit pervy hehe.
couldn't get this thought out of my head, so i had to share it with youssss🙏🏻🙏🏻
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this is my first ever drabble!! im sorry if there are any errors!!
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"look i... i dont think we could work.. we are both overworked and i dont think this is good for us." your weakened tone of voice blurring out from his end of his phone. your excuse to break up was hurting you. you were down into ur negative thoughts, thinking he doesnt love you because you're never home. work always takes both of you away from eachother, and you despise it.
jisung was walking back from work. it was cold outside and wet due to the rain. he stopped his tracks shocked. his eyes rounded with startledness as his hand began to tremble holding the phone to his ear. he mouth was agape.
"what..?" he choked up, as he was trying to understand what was going on, still confused and shocked.
"ji im sor— i want to see you in person, y/n.. tell me this in person! p-please.. i need- i need to see you." he cuts you off, he was felt like he was dreaming. his chest felt like he was getting stabbed, a pain he never knew he could feel just from a few words.
his mind was asking so much questions but he just couldn't get them out, his mouth was just open willingly to say something but couldnt. its like time has stopped for him.
"w-where are you? at home? please dont leave me like thi—im at home." you werent ready to see him hurt. you didnt know what to do without him. so why are you doing this? you didnt even know, you were just scared.
"im gonna hang up. please dont do anything stupid, yeah? stay home, and we can talk about this, okay? " he shuddered. the thick, cold air was burning his nose and cheeks.
"okay..." he could hear your small sniffing through the phone. he couldnt bare it. he needed to see you.
he hung up and made his way quickly back home. his feet moved swiftly on the wet concrete making a squelch with every step.
after running a few miles, he has met up with the front door. he bent down abit to catch his breath, his hand on his knees choking up some air to calm down. his lips are chapped and his chest was heaving. the thickness of the air was too much on him. making him gasp for air every second.
he got up and brang his hand to the door to knock. before he even knocked, the door opened quickly, a presence hugging him tightly and pulling him inside. jisung was taken aback, he didnt know what to do.. as you hugged him, he grabbed your chin to see your face.
his heart shattered. your face was all puffy, and your eyes were filled with tears. your pretty face stained. he couldnt help it but burst out in tears too and pulled you into him, his arms wrapping around your head to hold you more.
as you both weep in eachother brace, you both calmed down, breathing slowly together and waiting for anyone to build up courage to speak up. you both broke the brace. he looked at you to realise you were wearing a skimpy singlet with no bra, and only in your panties, his face started to burn up. he then threw those inappropriate thoughts out of his head after hearing your hurt voice, making him feel upset again, instantly forgetting about those dirty thoughts.
"Im sorry... i just.. didnt know what to do anymore and- and—.... i just cant handle it.. i cant handle you being alone for so long without me. you barely see me at home. you fall asleep alone and i hate that you wake up with just yourself... im sorry i–i just.. sorry.. i hate leaving you.. and i cant stop getting hurt by this.. im sorry that everytime i get home, im so r-rude and mean, i just—" you get cut off by his lips on yours. you didnt expect that. his soft palms gently cup ur cheeks. deepening the kiss as your whimpers cry out from it.
"i love you, y/n. i dont care that you're barely here at home with me. all i care about is that im with you. i love you so much, so please y/n dont be so harsh on yourself. im okay with you not being here because of work. im just glad i have you. i love you, okay? i would never stop loving you." his voice is strained and raspy. his tears are stained on his cheeks as his sparkling brown wide eyes look into yours filled with love.
you were abit taken aback but happy that jisungs okay with it. he understands, and it warms your heart. he then leans into ur face again, and his lips touch yours. you could taste the sweet cherry chapstick on his lips he would always wear. you loved it, you loved him so much, and it hurts that you treated him so stupidly. but you are glad he understands and doesnt despise you.
the kiss soon turned into a deeper, passionate one, too passionate, that turned into a messy makeout session. the both of you stopped kissing and moved to the living room couch to continue. you sat down as he sat on your lap in an instant, his hands around your neck.
a few whines came out of jisungs mouth as you bit onto his lip without realising. the lust taking over you. you wanted to make him feel more loved than ever, wanted to show how much you love and care for him.
your hands go under his hoodie, roaming around his bare waist, squeezing his hips as you kiss down to his neck.
"im sorry.. i miss you so much.." you say as your out of breath from sucking onto his neck. "f-fuck, dont say sorry... i l-love you so much." he whimpered into your ear, making you suck on his neck harsher, making him moan out louder into your ear. your hands roam further up to squeeze his chest harshly, making him let out a high-pitched whine.
your fingers pinching and rolling his pecs as you kiss his mouth to hush his loud whiney moans. you could feel his hard cock poking your stomach cause how close his waist is to your lower area. you found it cute that he kept trying to scoot closer to you as possible, needy for you.
you smiled into the kiss as your right hand slowly went down to his crotch area. his grey sweats had a small wet spot, you palmed around his clothed cock as he let out moans into your mouth. needy and loud.
"feel good? mm?" you whisper out as you broke the messy kiss, a string of saliva connected to your lips.
"yes, yes so f-fucking good ma'am" he whines as he starts to rock his hips closer to your hand. his arms around your head and face on the side of your neck. his moaning and whimpering for lust gradually becomes louder as a few tears shed down his cheek.
you push him back as you hold onto the lower bit of his hoodie and bring it up to take it off him, showing his bare lean torso. your hands roamed around his chest as your eyes twinkle with desire.
your hands squeeze his small chest, then move your face close to one of them to suck on. your lips around his pec, making him grunt and whine.
tongue licking around his pec as your other toyed with the other, his back arched closer to you, making you smirk. his hand gripping onto your hair and pulling it from the shocks of pleasure he gets from your tongue.
"p-please i want more.." he mewled out as his head fell back and around to meet up with your eyes as you stopped playing with his pecs. you look into his round, shiny eyes as you grab onto his jaw, forcing him to look closer to your face. "fuck your so pretty jisung.." he whimpered out from the praise as he looked into your eyes with lust.
"lets go to our room before we take things further." you smirk at him as he got off your lap quickly and grabbed onto your hand, dragging you off the couch to the shared room upstairs. he then opened to door and shoved you inside, he then closed the door rushing towards to bed like a needy slut.
you stood at the end of the bed, seeing him lay down whining and squirming around for your touch. you then crawl onto the bed right on top of the male, right on his boner and he lets out a breathy moans. his hands on your waist squeezing them. your wet clothed pussy on jisungs clothed cock, you grind your hips onto his. he moans and flick his head back on the pillows as he bites his lip.
you then got off his lap and scooted back to go on your knees and bend down to where your face is near his crotch.
your hands roam from his thighs to the waistband. you pulled them down and took them off, throwing them away in the room. you look down to see his hard on in his briefs. you bring your hand to palm his area, making him cry out from being toyed with for so long.
"p-please need you so bad.." you chuckle at his eagerness and took off his briefs to reveal his hard length smacking to his stomach. his tip was an angry red, throbbing, and waiting to be touched.
your hand latches onto his cock and squeeze it softly causing jisung to mewl out whimpers. hands starts to move slowly to tease the poor male as his hips start to twitch and rock up from the pleasure. he starts to whisper and mewl out pleases as he shuts his eyes close.
you start to work your hand and move you head closer to latch your mouth to his tip, sucking and kissing it as your hand moves swiftly on his cock.
his waist rocks up, and hands roam down to grip onto your hair tightly. you then let go on his cock and take him into your mouth fully making him moan out cries as his back arched.
your head bobbing on his length as your right hand roam up to his pec, squeezing and rolling the nub between your fingers.
you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth so you used your free hand to play around with his balls, squeezing them and fondling them with a gentle touch. your mouth goes to his tip sucking on it abit harder than before adding more pleasure to him causing him to scream out your name as his hips twitch around waiting for release.
a wave of shock and pleasure came over him as he bucked his hips to your face, his back arched and head fell back. his eyes rolled back as his grunts and moans were basically screams. his cock leaked out with his semen onto your mouth. your hand moved to his length to work more of his cock, milking it.
his hands scrambled onto your hair and pulled onto them hardly as he whimpered out from the sensitive overstimulated feeling in his stomach, moving his hips away from your touch.
as he calmed down from his high his cock was hard again. he needed your pussy around his cock or he'll go crazy.
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ninmnoi · 10 months
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— Stop, you’re losing me.
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mingyu x reader || angst.
summary ; trying to save an already failing relationship is a lot harder when he forgets your birthday.
(not proof read lol)
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Its your birthday, you’ve never made a big deal about it tell you met him. You still remember his shocked face and loud “WHAT” when you told him you dont found your birthday a big deal, its just another day. Ever since then, he always celebrated your birthday in fun surprises and dinners. He made it so important and meaningful for you, and the big part of that is because you know he’ll be there.
So your nothing short of despair when its past 5pm and he hasnt once messaged you. It’d be another thing if he just didnt message happy birthday, you wouldve been okay with goodmoring.
You sigh putting your phone down, bitting your lip as your eyes water. It shouldnt be this serious, you’ve never even cared about your birthday before, so why dose it hurt so bad now?
Mingyu
That god damn Mingyu.
He used to be such a soft spoken soul, aiding to your needs as you do with him, those first few years of your relationship. He confessed to you in your own backward, he put his effort and time into it. You can even smell the flowers that lead to Mingyu, see the lights that brightened his soft smile, that swift hair and tall figure standing nervously fiddling with the bouquet in his hands. And who could forget the blush that tainted his face and ears, tears threatening to jump out after you said “yes.”
Now, your even lucky if he stays with you a whole day. Its always this or that driving him away. When he left your sisters engagement dinner because a friend of his needed help moving in, or when he canceled a date because he forgot a “really super duper important project” as he said. The nights he wouldnt call, the empty king bed. The second toothbrush that hasnt been moved in 2 weeks.
It drove you insane, but you still gave him the benefit of the doubt.
“Maybe he’s busy”
“Hes probably sleeping”
“God his phone must’ve died”
Your friends would yell at you over text, spamming you with the reality check you needed, but never could deposit. After pacing around the kitchen trying to ignore the cute cake you bought with a sad candle slowly sinking into it. You pick up your phone and call him.
Ring…
Ring…
Ring…
*click!*
Did he just hang up on you..?
No, he would have to be crazy.
You call again.
Same fucking thing, even quicker just 2 rings in.
You open his contact info, trying to see where his location would put him.
“No Location Found.” You curse, what is he hiding? Your mind leads to the one scenario you’ve been dreading, infidelity. The thought of him cheating makes you wanna throw up, but sadly its a most common event. You’re just so done with everything, putting the cake away into the fridge and changing clothes. Its now 6:42pm and with the major headache you have, you simply decided to sleep it off. Hugging the build-a-bear Mingyu bought you a year back, it muffles your sobs, soaking in the tears.
It’s cold and dark when your awaken by an extra weight adjusting it’s self onto the right side of the bed. You recognize it all to well. Mingyu pulls the covers over himself, giving you a small peck on the tip of your ear.
“You’re home” you say, your drowsy and hurt voice clear.
“Yeah- im sorry im so late” he whispers to you
“There's cake in the fridge”
“Cake? For what”
You sigh, “My birthday”
You can hear his breathe hitch.
“Fuck- Baby im so sorry. I didnt mean to forget. I was just so bus-.”
You sit up.
“Busy,? from what? So busy you couldnt even text? Because clearly it wouldnt have taken as much time as hanging up on me and turning off your location did. So if ‘busy’ is some new slang for ignoring then that makes way more sense.”
“I didnt even know you called, i swear. My location should be on babe.. I” He mumbles on
“Then whos hanging up on me? Making sure i dont know where your at? Is she fun?”
Mingyu’s eyes widen
“What are you talking about?”
“Her, you know.. Is she attractive? What is it huh? Skinner than me? Or maybe blonder? Or is because you dont need to be responsible for her?
“Baby no, its none of that.” He grabs your shoulders.
“I love you, calm down”
“How can i?” You exclaim, jumping off the bed.
“You missed my birthday! I waited for you like some stupid dog! I felt so stupid.”
“I dont understand, birthdays were never that big of a deal for you”
“They werent until you made it a problem! Now look at me” you say, the tear stained face and puffy cheeks evident.
Mingyu gets up, walking over to you.
“I know ive been distant, let me make it up to you”
“Where were you tonight?”
He stays quiet for a moment, taking a deep breathe
“My friend he uh… invited me to a club” he quietly says.
“Oh. Okay.”
“Okay..?”
“Mingyu, get out”
“What?” His heart drops.
“Get out! Did the club music deafen you?? I want you gone” You yell, tears streaming down your face as you push him out. Though you have little to no affect of moving his body, it makes it all the more depressing.
“Okay…Okay..” He quietly says, grabbing his phone off the dresser. Looking down at you with remorseful eyes. His heart aching at the messed up state your in. And its because of him, god.
You slam the door behind him, locking it. You sigh before faintly walking back to your bed.
And theres your build-a-bear, ready to be hugged and to soak all your tears again.
Atleast, that comforts you.
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fivestar-outlaw · 1 year
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New Horizons (Park Seonghwa) (Ch. 3)
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Chapter 3: Scorpions
Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader
Words: 3.5K+
Warning(s): insecurities and discussion of insecurities, angst, someone's rude to MC :( (None of the guys), slight hurt/comfort, dumbdumbs in love but dont realize each others feelings
A/N: Here is chapter 3. I think this one is the second hardest to write (The fourth chapter is kicking my ass rn). I'm not sure how I am feeling about this chapter? I had like three/four different ideas for it. Sooo I did a 'spin the wheel' and went with what it landed on for this lol. I feel like this is the weakest chapter but it has some charm. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy <3
Reader is implied to be living in the US bc uh TIMEZONES ARE FUCKY and i didnt realize how reliant i was on mine (PST) when looking up KST
Summary: Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.
Series Masterlist | Navigation
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"I can't tell her, Woo." Seonghwa sighed.
Wooyoung nearly ripped out his hair at the very similar phrase he has heard you tell him before. The others all groaned as they lounged around in the recording room, 10 minutes before they needed to start recording and re-recording lines for their last song on the next album.
It was now February, two months since Seonghwa figured out his feelings towards you that night you fell asleep on video call. He immediately told Wooyoung the next day he had been right and ever since then, the younger has been trying to push Hwa into confessing. He even tried assuring the older male that you most likely returned his feelings without giving away you told Wooyoung you developed a crush on Hwa just a few days before Hwa told him.
Woo's mind thought back to his conversation with you a week ago.
"I don't think he likes me like that, Woo. No matter how much you tell me." He heard you say with a dejected tone through the call. He had snuck away on his own during practice, having the choreography down before the others. "I mean, I met him as a fan. I don't want him to think I offered him to sell turnips for this outcome."
"I don't think he assumes any ulterior motives, (Y/N)." He said softly. "He speaks fondly of you."
"And that's another thing. He is Seonghwa. He is the super kind, very lovable, handsome, and talented guy who loves to mimic his villagers, build Legos, and is an all around great person. It's hard not to fall in love with him... and then there is me. The average looking, college student working at the local bookstore. I feel so inadequate-"
"Hey. Don't speak like that about yourself." He scolded, his tone and facial expression serious. "You are amazing. You are beautiful. You've been a great friend and we all deeply appreciate and love you."
"Sorry." You sigh. "I just... I want to believe you, but it's hard, you know?"
"I get it, I do. Just... keep thinking on it, okay?" Wooyoung smiled sadly. He could see the self-doubt was still eating at you and his words didn't fully penetrate the self-conscious wall you built up. He just hoped you'd keep holding out long enough for him to try and push Seonghwa into confessing.
"Okay, why not then?" Yuhno asked, exasperated.
"It's clear she only views me as a friend. And I am fine with that."
"You don't know that for sure, hyung." San offered a kind smile.
"Are you guys sure (Y/N) likes me like that?" Hwa gave them each a pointed look. Everyone tried arguing that it was clear to them you did, though the only one who knew for sure was Wooyoung. "I... I truly come to appreciate her and every time we speak I feel like I am falling further and further for her. She is sweet, funny, gorgeous, and I feel my heart is always about to burst when talking with her..."
"He's a love sick puppy." Yeosang teased, making everyone chuckle. The eldest's face adorned a bright blush but he made no attempt argue against the notion.
"It's adorable seeing you crush so hard on someone, hyung." Mingi cooed.
"Why not try and talk to her now? It should be..." Hongjoong looked at the time, seeing that it was nearly 10am for them. "... about 6pm for her. Try gauging her feelings for you and bring up wanting her to visit next month for her spring break."
"I don't know..." The eldest unlocked his phone and had your contact pulled up. Wooyoung immediately moved spots and sat next to Seonghwa.
"Seonghwa-hyung, just go for it. We are all here cheering you on." Jongho smiled softly and the others nodded in agreement.
"And its not like your confessing now either. We've told you the signs, now watch for them." Wooyoung added. The others decided to join in on the call, hoping to catch anything that gave away you had feelings for their friend.
Seonghwa took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling as he pressed the call button. He felt two large hands on both shoulders pat him and give a firm squeeze as he slowly extended his arm to make sure everyone could be visible to some extent. He felt anxiety building up with each ring, waiting anxiously for you to pick up.
They all smile when you finally pick up. You were sitting at your desk, adding what looked like the finishing touches of your makeup on your face. You looked at the camera with a small smile before you looked down, picking up a tube of lipstick.
"Hello boys. Usually you text me before you start a call. What's going on?" You ask, eyes flickering to the phone again before you focus on your hand mirror.
Seonghwa felt Wooyoung nudge him off camera. "I wanted to check in on you, (Y/N), and they all decided to join me."
"Aw, really?" Your face seemingly brightened at the fact and the eldest could feel Jongho on his left excitedly tap his leg.
"Compliment her, Hwa." Hongjoong hissed into his ear, a toothy grin was on his face as an attempt to mask any suspicion.
"Did one of you say something?"
"O-oh it must of cut out." Seonghwa nervously chuckled. "I said you look amazing. Is there a special occasion going on?"
You got a bit bashful and smiled, though everyone could tell it didn't fully reach your eyes. "I got asked out on a date."
Seonghwa felt like he was punched in the gut.
But his face remained soft with a smile.
"Really? Who is the person?" He asked, his voice steady.
The others eyed him in concern but did their best to mask it while on video.
"His name is Charlie. He is in my English course this semester. We worked on some in-class assignments together a few times before he asked me out today."
"I'm happy to hear. Well, we better get going. We are about get to recording." Hongjoong could pick up some shakiness in Hwa's voice. "Have fun and please periodically message me, just to give me peace of kind on your safety."
"Thank you, Seonghwa, and I will." You gave them a wave goodbye before hanging up the phone.
It was silent in the room. Seonghwa slowly lowered his arm, resting his phone and hands in his laps. The smile he had dropped just as slowly as he took in a deep, trembling breath.
"Hwa, are you okay?" Hongjoong hesitated, placing his hand on his friends shoulder.
"Yes. I'm fine, Joong." He asserted, getting up from the couch.
"Are you sure?" San asked.
Languidly, the eldest turned to face the rest. Their breaths caught in their throats. His eyes were full of tears, his lips were quivering as he still maintained his smile.
"I told you guys I am just a friend to her. And I will be fine with that." He sniffled, one tear rolling down his cheek. He hastily wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. "Please, lets drop it and get work done today."
"Of course, hyung." Yuhno spoke with a comforting voice and stood up, wrapping an arm around the older males shoulders. "Lets grab some waters together." Carefully, the taller of the two led Hwa out of the room. The second the door closed, everyone exhaled.
"Maybe...Maybe we were wrong." Jongho mumbled.
"No we weren't." Wooyoung insisted, pulling out his phone.
"Wooyoung-" San tried to speak but the younger male kept talking.
"We weren't! (Y/N) told me herself she likes Seongwa!" The others watched as he called you, pressing speakerphone.
The phone rung a few times when they hear the line click.
"It's just me, (Y/N)." Woo gave the others a look to be quiet. "What was that? What do you mean date?"
"Exactly that, Youngie." You sighed, your voice sounding as if it lacked any confidence.
"But you like Seonghwa... You love him."
"... I do." The others in the room looked at each other in shock, their eyes wide.
"Then why did you agree to the date, (Y/N)?"
There was a moment of tense silence before you spoke again, starting your sentence off with a sniffle.
"Because I can't logically believe he likes me the same way. He just see's me as a friend and I just feel so inadequate to be on any level with him." You faltered. "I don't have any particular feelings for Charlie but I... I just wanted to try to get over loving Hwa."
"(Y/N)..."
"I need to get going Woo. I'll... message you tomorrow." Before he could say anything more you hung up.
The room was just as tense as before. No one knew what to say. Wooyoung pressed his lips tightly together as he kept his own tears at bay. When they heard the door open everyone else started getting up and getting ready to start recording. Seonghwa looked to have calmed down. Wooyoung refused to look at his oldest hyung until he could calm down.
---
After the video call with Ateez and the call with Wooyoung, you decided to try to to push any negative thought aside and finish getting ready. You put together a outfit that wasn't too fancy but still looked nice. You styled your hair the way you liked most for things like this. Overall, despite the heavy heart, you felt cute. You left your place with an Uber, figuring you may have something alcoholic to drink, with enough time to get to the restaurant on time, sending a message to Seonghwa letting him know you were heading there...
You glanced at the clock on your phone for the umpteenth time. It had been an hour since your uber dropped you off at the restaurant, 50 minutes since you were sat down at a table, and 35 minutes since that sinking feeling in your gut that you had been stood up started kicking in.
You sighed dejectedly as you finished paying for the meal you ordered. You may have been stood up but you weren't going to let that stop you from a nice meal. Luckily your waitress was kind and nobody paid you much mind. You felt that any pity sent your way would make you feel worse.
You slowly walked outside the restaurant, your phone out as you get ready to order another uber, when you heard loud cackling. Your head turned to the left and just a few cars down in the parking lot was Charlie in a car full of people. They were all laughing and looking at you.
It felt like a bucket of ice water was poured over you.
Ignoring them and the button to confirm the uber, you started walking in the direction of your apartment. You needed to get away. You could feel your chest tightening with humiliation and panic.
"Oh come on, (Y/N). It was a joke!" You heard Charlie yell but you just kept walking. You heard the car roar with life and could hear from their rolled down window various jokes directed at you.
They all cackled and decided that was enough teasing. Charlie then nearly squealed his tires as he drove away. The tears you kept at bay finally spilled over. You hiccupped as you glanced down at your phone. It was 8pm for you, which meant it would be around noon for him.
You didn't think, really. You just knew you needed to hear his low toned, comforting voice. You opened your phone and immediately dialed Seonghwa, pressing your cell to your ear as you walked back to your place. You felt pathetic but you knew you needed to speak to someone or else you would be a sobbing mess if you were left to stew.
---
It was lunch time in the canteen area at KQ when Seonghwa heard his phone ring. His brows furrowed when he saw your name on the screen. He finished his last bite and quickly wiped off any possible crumbs on his hands with a napkin.
"Didn't she leave for her date like an hour ago?" Mingi tilted his head, everyone else had a confused look.
Seonghwa pressed the green answer button and raised his phone to his ear.
"(Y/N)?" His voice with smooth and low. "You're calling me so soon-"
"Seonghwa..." He heard your voice trembling, making him freeze. His face must of gave away to the others something was wrong, as they stared at him intently.
"Hold on, (Y/N). Let me go somewhere private." He quickly got up fron his seat and wasted no time getting into the hallway where there were less people. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
"I-I got stood up." You sniffled.
"What?"
"I sat there for an hour looking like a fool. And then... And then I went to leave and I saw him outside in his car with his friends." Seonghwa could feel his blood start to boil with anger. "They laughed at me. They made fun of me." He could hear you take in a shuddering breath.
"Where are you now?"
"I'm walking home..."
"How long until you get back?"
"Maybe... Maybe 10 or 15 more minutes?"
"Stay on the phone with okay? I want to make sure you get home safe." He needed to take deep breaths to stay calm. In the corner of his eye he saw the others leave the canteen, though they stayed back, giving him and you some privacy.
"I just don't get what I did wrong to-"
"You did nothing wrong, (Y/N). Don't start blaming yourself for some asshole's behavior." He glanced to his friends, feel a pinch of confidence. "You are a wonderful person. It's his loss."
There was silence for a moment.
"Did I interrupt work?" You asked in a small voice.
"No, I was just finishing lunch. Did you eat?"
"I had something small after I realized he wasn't showing up." Hwa felt some relief when he heard your voice getting steady. "I'll probably have some ice cream when I get home."
"It better not be mint chocolate chip." He joked and smiled when he heard you giggle. "You really did look amazing, by the way. You should send me and the group chat any selfies if you took any. I'm sure the others would like to see the full look."
"Really?" Your voice was meek.
"I would never lie to you... You truly look beautiful. You always do."
"Thank you, Hwa. I really needed to hear that, especially from you." He could hear your voice tremble again.
"Don't start crying because of me, jagiya." He gently teased, the petname slipping out seamlessly.
"Where are the others?"
"They are watching me down the hallway I'm in." He looked over and saw that they were still there. Wooyoung, San, and Jongho kept their eyes on him while the others were looking at their phones, occasionally looking back at the eldest.
"Am I keeping-"
"I want to be talking with you. They can all wait." Seonghwa huffed, which pulled a giggle from you. He was glad he was able to get you to cheer up, even if it was a miniscule amount. "They are very concerned for you though."
"You can tell them what happened. Woo will bug me when he can until I tell him."
"He is good at that isn't he?"
"Too good." You snort.
There was another moment of silence before Hwa spoke again.
"How close are you to home?"
"Uh..." You pause. "I'm pretty close. I'm passing the park thats nearby. I'll probably be there in two minutes."
"Good." He hummed. "I'm glad you called me."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. Besides enjoying the sound of your voice, I am glad you felt comfortable enough during this vulnerable time to reach out to me. It warms my heart."
"I'm glad you answered."
"For you? Always. Well, unless I am on stage or Joong is lecturing us." He couldn't help but beam when he got you to laugh again.
"I see my apartment. I'm walking up to the door now." Hwa heard your keys jingle in your hand. "I'll let you go now. Thank you for everything, Hwa."
"It wasn't a problem at all. I'll check in on you when I have the time okay?"
"You don't have to." He faintly heard you unlocking the door and then heard the door close.
"I want to." He smiled. "Get comfortable, have that ice cream, and smile for me okay, (Y/N)? I'll talk to you soon. Have a goodnight in case you fall asleep."
"Have a good rest of your day, Hwa." There was a lingering pause before you ended the call.
Seonghwa let out a deep sigh, his face dropping into a scowl as he pocketed his phone. The rest of Ateez took that as a sign to approach him. They nearly froze when they saw the angry look on his face.
"I'm going to need one of you to stop me from buying plane tickets right now." Hwa muttered.
"What happened?"
"Why are you so upset?"
"Is (Y/N) okay?"
Were questions all asked at the same time.
"Let's get back to the recording studio first." Hongjoong offered. It took a lot of restraint for them to not run down the hallways.
The second that door closed to the studio, everyone turned to look at Seonghwa, who still looked pissed off. He sat down on the couch staring past the glass that viewed the recording booth. He needed to take a moment to calm himself down.
"Did something happen to our dear (Y/N)?" Wooyoung sat next to the older male, looking at him with desperate eyes.
"She called me crying, saying her date stood her up." Seonghwa finally spoke. Everyone let out shocked noises and some curses. "That's not even the worst of it. She said he and his friends were waiting for her to come outside to make fun of her."
Wooyoung pulled out his cellphone. "I'm buying you and I plane tickets."
"Count me in, I want to beat that guys ass for making her upset." San sat on the other side of Seonghwa.
Hongjoong quickly snatched Wooyoung's phone.
"Hey-!"
"You won't be making a spontaneous trip to her place and you all are definitely not going off to fight this guy." He said, using his captain voice.
"Come on, hyung. It'll be worth it." Jongho tried bargaining but quickly stopped at the look he got from their leader.
"Seonghwa." Seonghwa's attention was on Hongjoong's face after he called his name. "You already did most of your recording today. Unless you want to hang out with those who still need to record and need to re-record, or do some choreography practice with Yuhno, you should head back to the dorm and spend some time with (Y/N)."
"Thank you, Joong." Seonghwa smiled and gathered his belongings.
"We want to spend time with her too." Wooyoung whined.
"Too bad. You're assisting Yuhno after you re-record your lines." The eldest male smiled at his friends playful banter as he left the room.
He quickly fished out his cell and called you as he walked down the hallway. He was heading to his managers office to get home. He wasn't entirely sure if he had the confidence to confess right now, nor did he want to spring on a confession to you after the night you had... but he wanted to let you know he would be there for you. That he would never let you feel less than or alone. That stupid guy lost his chance and Hwa wanted to be the one treasure you. He was going to confess and tonight would be the start to his plan to do so.
"Seonghwa?" Your voice sounded confused when you quickly answered.
"Hongjoong is giving me the rest of the day off. Do you want to watch a movie with me? Or we can play Animal Crossing? Whatever you want, I want to do it with you." He took in a deep breath. "I'll even pick up mint chocolate chip ice cream and we can eat it together."
You laughed. "Sure, I would love that."
There was a pause in the conversation. Seonghwa was now waiting in front of the manager's office.
"I have a question for you, (Y/N)." He wanted to wait for later to ask his question but Seonghwa felt he had the confidence to ask now.
"What is it?"
"You said you took time off work for your spring break next month, right?"
"Yes, I have the Friday before that week off to Monday after it. Why do you ask?"
"Come visit me." He was shocked he got it out.
"What?"
"Come to Korea and visit me. I'll help pay for the flight and you can stay with us at the dorm. Is the issue with your passport?"
"My passport is fine." You sighed and took a moment before speaking again. "Are you sure, Hwa? Are the others okay with that? What about-"
"Everything will be fine. The others, our manager, and I have already discussed this in length and will probably want to discuss with you later."
"Well..." You didn't speak, which had Seonghwa feeling rejection would soon follow. "I would love to."
"...Is this a yes?"
"Yes it is." You chuckled. "I've been actually thinking of planning a visit after I graduate in May, but honestly, the sooner the better."
"Make sure to message the others about this, they'll be so happy." He smiled, unable to hide his excitement. "I am about to leave the office here soon. I will call you when I am back at the dorm."
"Get back safely."
"Of course. I will talk to you soon."
"And- Fuck!" You swore loudly.
"Is something wrong?" Worry seeped into his veins at how your voice sounded.
"I got stung by scorpion while island hopping."
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Taglist: @stopeatread@hee0soo@pocketjoong-reads@seonghwaddict@tridkeys
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lunarw0rks · 11 months
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cod dudes with a nurse y/n but make it lowkey realistic: bc lets be real, after a 12 hr shift you do NOT want to hang out with friends, party, or socialize. ur feet hurt from walking and standing all day, your ears are tired from hearing the IV pumps beep all day, and the smell of C.diff makes u want to vomit. nurse y/n just wants to sit down or lay on the couch and be non-verbal... Gaz, price, and rudy are the sweetest. they pick that up real quick after mistakenly asking "hows ur shift" and y/n trauma dumped them for 5 hrs straight. they don't immediately ask for hugs and kisses bc they know u overwhelmed. they just pour u a cup of wine and sit next to you until YOU talk to them first. you lowkey gossip with them on ur day off or randomly be like "omg look at that dude over there next to the parking spot its giving edema". and then theres soap and ghost. Soap is clingy, yall really think hes gonna survive 12hrs of not seeing you? this man was waiting by the door at 7:15 pm. on the dot. wants to hug and kiss you and tell you about his day. but ur just so. fucking. tired. you tried to be as responsive but it always ended up with a tired "mhm". He legit got upset a few times but he'd be a good sport about it tho. eventually he caught on a couple of weeks in and now he just comes and hugs you from behind, kisses ur face, and cuddles you silently (AFTER you throw away ur dirty scrubs and shower. that C.diff smell is yucky yucky). Tells you he appreciates your care and effort for the patients every day :). Ghost.... omgg he said something lowkey offensive to you right after u got home from the worst shift of ur week. and he didnt even know WHAT he said/did, hes kinda bad a picking up ur cues. nurse y/n just turned around slowly, gave him the NASTIEST side eye, and stared at him for a good 2.5 min. This man immediately retreated from ur couch to wherever he was b4 like a hermit going back to its shell lmao. 2 hrs later you find a small written note and ur fave gurl dinner on the dining table.
Alejandro..... this man is SO PROUD of his s/o being a nurse. hes showing you off every chance he gets!!! He takes Nursing week SERIOUSLY. give you massages, spas, gifts, ect. but he doesnt get how tired and overwhelmed you are. you have to physically tell him to stop asking or letting his family asking medical question. "No ale. I will NOT look at auntie's mole on her stomach. when im off the clock im OFF THE CLOCK :("
Valeria threatens to beat up the management for you lol. she hates how you get treated by them sometimes. you didnt get the recognition you deserve. Def bosses her cartel men around to buy you gifts and such. one time she organized a whole day to spoil and pamper you. she gave you her own version of Daisy Award 🥺💞 Konig observes and internally analyzes ur every move. he panics tho. like "OMG she home but she already has a bottle of wine its different from the one she had yesterday.. omg omg she didnt even say hello that means her shifts was extra shitty today.... why is she sipping on the wine for so long and the last sip is longer than all previous sips........" He eventually learned you just need silent company. you were laying on the bed feeling burned out when he came over with some soup, kissed ur hand, and wrapped you in a blanket burrito :).
ah, realistic nurse!y/n. this is a breath of fresh air for me.
they're all trying their best. and honestly, what better pair? they also have an overstimulating, kinda gross (blood and bodily fluids), exhausting career !!
it's a match made in heaven !! (aside from the whole... miscommunication and barely seeing each other thing. but what's a good ship without some gut-wrenching angst?)
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starsstuddedsky · 1 year
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Slice of Love
Haechan x reader
summary: birthday cake and boyfriend material
genre: fluff, non idol au, not really angst but haechan is so dramatic
warnings: swearing, food/dessert, i dont know anything about art, pls lmk if i missed any
wc: 1.8k (who is she???)
a/n: finally wrote something short and sweet :) it's been so long since i've done that lol. this is heavily inspired by 7dream cafe cake-making and my full belief that none of these boys should be unsupervised in the kitchen. thank you to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta as always <3 (even though you didnt edit anything smh)
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It’s not horrendous.
Donghyuck stares at the cake in front of him. The process started well: he made the tester cake last week week that the council (also known as his friends) approved with generous support (“wait, what’s actually kind of good,” from Jeno, “it’s edible,” from Renjun, “the hint of orange really sells it,” from Jaemin, “it’s not burnt so it’s already better than anything I could make,” from Mark, “you didn’t buy this?” from Chenle, and Jisung, who just stared at him with wide eyes). 
No, the problem isn’t the batter. He slaved over it all last night and chose the two cakes that rose most evenly in the oven. Everything but his tears went into making them. 
“Wow,” Renjun says, leaning over the counter. “You fucked up.” 
Donghyuck smacks him, leaving a trail of lavender buttercream on the wool sweater. 
“Hey, that’s going to be a bitch to get out!” Renjun cries. 
“Cry me a river,” Donghyuck says, “which is a good song, but also, you deserve it. It’s not that bad.” 
Renjun raises his eyebrows but Donghyuck raises a spoonful of extra frosting. Renjun backs off. 
Despite his strong defense, Donghyuck fears Renjun may be right. Though the cake stands tall, crumbs mix in with the frosting on the sides. What was supposed to be an artistically plump edging around the base of the cake and around the top corner looks like it exploded out of the piping bag (because it did, popping the cap off several times). In his head, the center would be filled with flowers and hearts and all sorts of pretty shapes in all sorts of pastel colors—but by the time he got to the center, he’d fully given up on piping bags, meaning he had to get creative for the flowers. Instead of flowers, he made blobs of frosting pushed off a spoon. In some spots he accidentally mixed the colors together, a green one shade away from brown, not at all like the field in the pictures on his Pinterest board. 
Jeno appears next, wandering out of his room. He misses Renjun’s warning glare, though Donghyuck doesn’t. He steps right next to Donghyuck, tilting his head. “What is this supposed to be again?” 
“What do you think?” Donghyuck asks evenly. 
Oblivious or uncaring, Jeno pauses to ponder. “A really ugly version of Shrek’s swamp?” 
“Get out.” 
“Get out of ma’ swamp!” Jeno attempts a Scottish accent, authenticity as questionable as the flower field in Donghyuck’s cake. Jeno retreats with Renjun on the couch, dodging Donghyuck’s frosting spoon. It would be a waste of the delicacy on his stupid dri-fit t-shirt, which he wears even when he doesn’t work out. 
“It’ll be fine,” Jaemin says. “It’ll taste good, which is the important part.” He sits at the counter, the only one to offer moral support while Donghyuck decorated. But his attempts at comfort are in vain; Donghyuck doesn’t just want the cake to taste good, he wants it to taste perfect, to look perfect, for all of it to be perfect. It’s the least you deserve. 
Donghyuck ignores the banging on his door, letting one of the guys let Chenle and Jisung in (no one else would threaten to break down a metal door instead of waiting the five seconds it takes to unlock the door). 
“We come bearing food!” Chenle shouts, plastic bag singing in his hand as Jisung follows precariously carrying a stack of pizza boxes. Far more food than needed, but Donghyuck won’t skimp out on you. Chenle tosses his bag full of snacks on the table, crossing the room to see the ‘masterpiece’ Donghyuck spent the past week hyping up. 
“Dude, are you seriously going to give that to YN?” 
“Are you trying to get dumped?” Jisung asks. “Ow!” he cries when Chenle smacks him. 
“Your welcome,” he says, “though he sort of has a point, that looks like literal shit.” 
“Does it really?” Donghyuck pouts. 
Chenle points at one of the browner spots. “You’re telling me that’s not a piece of shit?” 
“They were supposed to be flowers.” 
Jaemin, Renjun, and Jisung manage to cover their laughs as coughs but Chenle and Jeno let out a bark of laughter. 
“Yeah, you’re screwed,” Chenle says, clapping him on his shoulder that sags even lower than his normal bad posture. “You could call Mark and get him to pick up a cake on his way.” 
“He’s bringing YN,” Donghyuck says glumly. “Besides, I already told YN that I would make it myself. I’m not going to be a failure and a liar.” 
“It’s really not that bad,” Jaemin says, ignoring the chorus of dissent from the rest of the guys. “It’ll taste good!” 
Donghyuck shrugs. He can’t explain it, at least not so that they can understand him. He knows perfection is a subjective definition that he’ll never be able to fulfill but he strives for it anyway. If it isn’t perfect then why would he do it at all? Even if it’s his first time attempting this level of artwork, he should at least be able to make something that looks okay, or recognizable. 
And you—you deserve more than a dry store-bought mess and more than a half-assed attempt at love. You’ve only been together for a couple months but he’s determined to prove himself. A birthday was the perfect opportunity, even when you’ve known him for years and spent plenty of birthdays with him. This was his chance to show you the boyfriend material he’s made of, except instead of black velvet or creamy silk, Donghyuck thinks this cake is the work of a neon yellow polyester shirt worth less than $2 at the thrift store. 
“Mark just texted that he just parked,” Jaemin announces. He glances at Donghyuck. “You ready?” 
Donghyuck glances at himself. His hands are covered in frosting that’s dried and crusted, spread up his arms. His Kiss the Chef apron protected his shirt and most of his pants from the damage, but the mess is the least of his concerns. There’s nothing he can do about the disaster (he’s given up calling it anything else) in front of him. Shrek’s Swamp or a toilet bowl, it’s definitely not a flower field and it’s definitely not what you deserve. But it’s all he’s got. 
The final punch hits with a gentle knock at the door. Donghyuck crosses the room to his doom, stepping past his silent friends who bow their heads in respect for the walking dead. He pulls open the door slowly. He sees your shoes first, white sneakers you spent three hours with a Sharpie decorating, full of hearts and stars and unmistakable flowers—daisies and chrysanthemums and lavender, more than he can name. 
You wear your favorite jeans, loose bootcut that tighten at the thighs, hugging you in all the right places. A loose shirt hangs from your shoulders, one of the bands you always play for him with lots of bass and visceral lyrics that romanticize suffering. A family of silver earrings dangle from your ears, and he recognizes each of your favorites, the miniature swords, sparkling star shaped studs, a curly twist of metal that wraps around the higher part of ear. You look perfect. 
Donghyuck has always loved the way you smile, a gentle turn of your lips, like the happiness belongs to only you. You lean forward, pressing a short kiss to his lips, a peck more than anything. Donghyuck stares at you, eyes wide. You gesture to his apron. “Just following the rules.” 
He smiles though it fades as soon as he sees the frosting–no, the evidence of his failures, spread down the black fabric. “Happy birthday,” he says, wishing he could put more heart into it. A tiny frown furrows in your brow but you don’t question him. 
He steps back to let you walk in, trailing behind you as the rest of the guys wish you happy birthday. Mark catches up easily, clapping a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Jeno sent me a picture.” 
Renjun hugs you, which Donghyuck belatedly realizes he never did. 
“I brought the food,” Chenle announces. “Don’t go thanking anyone else for my efforts.” 
“Our,” Jisung corrects. “You barely even carried anything.” 
“That’s because I had to drive,” Chenle says, waving his hand. “And don’t even get me started on the pizzeria, you better appreciate every molecule because—”
“Thank you, Chenle,” you say. 
“Thank me,” Donghyuck says. “It was my detailed instructions that perfected absolutely everything about today, which reminds me, did Mark behave?” 
You turn back to face him, linking your fingers with his. “Yes, babe, he followed your script. He almost cried because the barista messed up the order and he didn’t want to be annoying but he said you said ‘if anything goes wrong, I’ll kill you,’ and meant it.” 
“And I did,” Donghyuck says. He nods at his best friend for his service. 
“Now.” You squeeze his fingertips. “Where’s this cake you’ve been so excited about.” 
Donghyuck doesn’t try to hide his face. There’s no use delaying the inevitable. He lets go of your hands, leading you to the crime scene to lay the final verdict (the judicial system of his brain is in need of some reformation). 
You reach the counter and freeze. A list of concert dates greets Donghyuck, your back facing him while you study the cake. There’s no name for the opposite of a masterpiece, no artist that wants their worst creation recorded in history. 
He inches closer to you, peeking at your face. He recognizes the expression, the narrowing of your eyes, the way you flatten your lips. He’s been to enough art shows and spent enough time with you studying for art history to know what you analyze art. 
“It’s not Van Gogh or Monet,” he says, “it’s not even that asshole guy who made the Bean.” 
“Mm,” you hum, “no, you’re not any of them.” 
“It’s an ugly cake,” he says, “I know. I tried, I really did, but apparently you actually do need a decade or two of experience to make a decent cake, which is totally unfair, like, I spent more time on it than my research project, and this only looks marginally better than that.” 
“It’s amazing,” you say, “reminiscent of the expressionist era.” 
“Really?” 
“No,” you say, turning to grin at him. “But you made it, so none of that matters. Maybe it doesn’t look like what you thought, but seriously.”  You rest a hand on his arm. “It’s perfect.” 
He meets your eyes, sees sincerity and not an ounce of teasing. No, it wasn’t what he wanted for you, but that doesn’t really matter. Perfection is subjective and to you it’s perfect—why did he ever think it wouldn’t be? 
He grins. “Perfect?” 
You step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, ignoring the frosting that must be smearing across the band member’s faces. 
“Perfect.” 
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a/n2: thank you for reading! as always, i appreciate any feedback :)
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