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#if it was just me not personally liking the way he does the show i wouldn't care
exhaslo · 3 days
Note
Can you do like a God Miguel and devil fem reader, this is my first request so please no hate 😭 Oh yeah AND SMUTTTTT
That man is basically a God, haha. Usually I see this request the opposite way, so this is going to be so much fun!
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, teasing, taunting, handsy, oral sex (m receiving), riding, rough sex, dirty talk, doggy style, creampie
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"C'mon, Big Boy. Afraid to show a lil ol' devil like me what a taste of Heaven looks like?"
This was a sight to behold. No one had ever dared to question or even go against Miguel's ruling. There was a reason why the two dimensions were split between Heaven and Hell. There were a whole list of reasons.
One of them, being devils like you.
You gave a wicked smile towards Miguel, the God of Heaven himself, the ruler of all Angels. Hell, the very man whom separated the Angels and Devils. He was one who controlled all. One who could change the course of fate itself.
"What's a Sinner like me to do in order to enter your pearly white gates of Heaven?" You cooed, getting on your knees.
"You have already made your choices in life. You must live with the consequences of your actions." Miguel spoke.
You gave a pout, pressing your lower lip out while pressing your breasts together.
"But, it wasn't all my fault! I'm here to confess my sins and do right. Please, give me a chance? Isn't that what Angels do? Give second chances?" You begged.
Miguel grunted lowly as he shooed his Angels away. They had started to whisper amongst themselves because sadly, you were right. Miguel disliked it when a devil would sway the good hearted with cruel twists of truth.
"You wish to be redeemed? How do you plan on doing so?" Miguel asked. You bit your lower lip, finding his scowl hot,
"I'll do anything."
-------
Miguel sure had you work your way into heaven. As God, he personally oversaw your progress. Every human you helped; everyone good deed you did; everything was in his sight.
Even your advances. You were sly as you did your job. Poking your ass out slightly; accidently having a tit pop out; hell even using the old lollipop trick. You were doing whatever it took to try and sway Miguel in your favor.
"Hm, excellent work. Perhaps I just might consider your arrival into heaven after a few thousand more good deeds." Miguel hummed. You felt your eye twitch,
"Thousand? Isn't there anything more..." You slid your hand down Miguel's chest, "Intense I could do?"
"Have you forgotten who I am?"
"I haven't," You whispered in his ear, slowly lowering your tank top, "I know that you rule over everything. You see everything while no one can see you. You poor stressed God."
"I'm not stressed." Miguel huffed as he glanced around the human world, "I know what you've really been after this whole time."
"Hm? You have?" You cooed, "Then why entertain me?"
"Because even a God gets bored."
In the next second, both you and Miguel were in what looked like a human hotel room. A smile curled upon your lips as you spread your legs on the bed, slowly removing your top. You gave Miguel a seductive look, motioning him over,
"So bored that you'll entertain a devil?" Miguel scoffed,
"So bored that one might say I am stressed." He tried to change the topic, but sighed, "Sometimes even I grow jealous of how easily humans find pleasure."
You raised a brow, your smile growing wider. You sat up, reaching for Miguel. Your hands stroking down his chest as you threw your top across the room.
"Allow me to give you a show then?" You whispered.
Swapping places with Miguel, you proceeded to give him a little lap dance. As you moved your ass against his crotch, you started to take your bra off. For a God like him to entertain a devil like you, oh this was going to be good.
You nibbled against his ear as you took off you pants, revealing no underwear. A chuckle escaped your lips as you glanced down towards Miguel's erection.
"Hm, does mini God wanna play?" You cooed.
"Perhaps I could show you what heaven tastes like after all." Miguel played along.
Oh, that made you wet. You hands were all over Miguel now. You just had to strip him, but slowly. You cute little devil tail twirled as you started to grind against Miguel's white robes. You stroked his face, watching his temptation grow,
"Shall I do all the work?" You whispered. Miguel just smirked,
"Weren't you the one who needed to get into heaven?"
You huffed as you removed his robes. Eyes widening at the sight of his dick. He wasn't a God for nothing. With a lick of your lips, you got on your knees and started to work your magic. You had good deeds to do after all.
"How many deeds if I make you cum?" You hummed with a lick of his tip.
"A hundred."
"Oh? Then I'll have my work cut out."
"It's a good thing stamina doesn't exist for me." Miguel said with a smirk, which made you quiver.
Ignoring that thought for now, you returned to stroking and sucking Miguel's dick. Of course God doesn't have stamina. Even devils and angels had it. Well, at least you were trying to earn his forgiveness and not the other way around.
You moaned lowly as you started to take Miguel deeper. His dick was thick and long. Just the thought of him ravishing you was making you horny. Not to mention the sounds of his grunts was delicious. If only you were a succubus, this would make a fine meal.
"Still waiting to be impressed." Miguel teased.
You felt your eye twitch as you kept sucking. What more did he want? Gasping, you felt his hands on your head as he started to thrust into your mouth. Tears started to form as you tried to breathe through you nose.
"Here's your first hundred." Miguel groaned.
You nearly gagged as Miguel cummed inside your mouth. Moving away, you swallowed what you could, but coughed up the rest. There was so much. Wiping your mouth, you glanced at his still harden erection and chuckled,
"If that's the case, then this will be easy."
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"Are you giving up already? What a poor little slutty devil you are." Miguel mocked as you bounced on his cock.
You were drooling as you rode Miguel. His dick fit so nicely inside you, stretching all your walls as you fucked him. His tip hit the far back of your cervix, making you really see heaven in a different light. You had only fucked him for a few minutes and you felt like giving in.
"Is this all Hell has to offer?" Miguel asked. You flinched, feeling yourself about to cum again,
"N-No...J-Just....so...ah~" You whined, jumping down once more only to cum.
"This is why you need my help."
Miguel held your waist and started to thrust up inside you, causing you to moan and squirm. His dick was too much. He was hitting you in all the right places. Gripping your hips, Miguel watched your tits bounce as he fucked you from below.
"Tsk, tsk, this poor little devil wants forgiveness right?"
"Y-Yesh~"
"I'll give it to you. One load at a time."
You shuddered towards his words as he released a heavy load inside you. Gasping, you felt Miguel press you against the bed, entering you from behind. His grip was still tight as he started to pound your pussy.
"Such lewd sounds you're making. Does my dick feel that good?"
"Ah~ Ah~ Y-Yes!" You cried out, gripping the bedsheets. Miguel chuckled, listening to the sound of his dick slapping into you,
"Can you feel my holy presence inside you? Is this the taste of heaven you wanted so much?"
"Ah~ Mhm~"
You couldn't think. You felt your eyes roll back as you focused on Miguel pounding you. His hot cum just begging to spill before his next load. This was truly paradise.
"So cock drunk that you can't even think. What a slutty devil you are." Miguel hummed, feeling you cum around him, "But you are doing the best deed there is."
"Mhm!" You gasped as Miguel slapped into your gummy walls faster,
"Keep coming to me for your forgiveness and I'll happily give it to your horny pussy." He groaned, cumming once more, "How does that sound?"
"Ah~ Y-Yes~ Yes~" You moaned loudly.
Miguel just chuckled in response, turning you over. You were out of breathe and fucked out. Miguel glanced at your body, watching your devil wings disappear since you had no energy. Another chuckle escaped his lips as he watched his cum leak out of you,
"Don't suppose you want to start a new race? I have unless stamina after all."
You had a long road of forgiveness ahead of you, but you weren't complaining in the slightest.
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I CAN FEEL THE JUDGEMENT FROM ABOVE, BUT WE ALL KNOW I'M GOING DOWN! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!
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miserycanary · 1 day
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DEFINITELY NUTS ᡣ𐭩
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & model!fem!reader
synopsis: Ghost mentions you but 141 doesn't believe that he got a wife
tags: crack (well, attempted), fluff
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Ghost’s strict rules for privacy are something the 141 has known for years now. He’s not the type of person to blab about his personal life and often chooses just to keep quiet. So, imagine their surprise when he suddenly says that he’s going to take a day off because his wife asked him to watch a play. 
“Price, ‘am not gonna be here tomorrow. Got a date with my missus.”
All eyes are on him, everyone stills. “WIFE? Since when?!” Soap exclaimed, finally breaking the silence. His eyes were almost bulging out his eyes. “Never told you about her?” Ghost hums, unamused by the Scottish’s exclaim. “Johnny here does have a reasonable reaction. You never tell us anything ‘bout you, mate,” Price joined, chuckling and pulling out a cigar. The man just contemplates before brushing it off and bidding farewell, leaving the group confused. 
“Ain’t no way he’s telling us the truth. That man ain’t got no bone in his body to bag someone,” Soap voiced out, looking for anyone to support his disbelief. “I mean..” Gaz whistles out, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head as if he’s agreeing to some extent. That’s when, unbeknownst to Ghost, he got the reputation of being delusional and a liar. 
Soap, still doubtful days later, watches the lieutenant with a vision like a hawk. “Hey, lieutenant.” Ghost snaps his head up, looking at him. “How was the date with your wife?” Immediately, everyone else stopped what they were doing, silently listening. It was obvious he was baiting Ghost, emphasizing the wife as if putting on quotes. They weren’t as nosy as Soap but each one of them still held a bit of doubtness that the brick wall of the team managed to get a girl, and even marry her.
“It was okay. The missus had fun,” Ghost chuckles, fondly remembering how you were beaming on the way, rambling about the plot of the play. “Can we see pictures?” Soap smirked thinking he finally got the lieutenant but was taken aback when Ghost only shrugged and pulled out his phone before freezing. “Ah, we didn’t take pictures yesterday. Said she wanted to live in the moment.” 
Soap whipped his head to signal to Gaz, seemingly saying ‘See? He’s definitely lying! How convenient he has no pictures.” 
“How about just a picture of your wife?” Kyle suggested, now invested while Price seemed to be shaking his head in the corner. “I have none with me but..” With a few clicks, Ghost holds up his phone for everyone to see. Like birds, everyone flocked around him, curious to see. For a while, everyone was surprised and sure the man was lying. I mean, he just showed them a picture of a drop-dead gorgeous model from a magazine! 
‘He's definitely lost it’ everyone seemed to think, offering pity glances at the man who had this prideful shine in his eyes. Walking up to his superior, Soap patted him on the back. “It’s fine, mate… we understand how difficult it must be.” ‘not having a lady at all’
Thinking Johnny meant about your hectic schedule, he agreed. “It’s quite tough but we make it work,” he chuckled which made everyone wince.
‘Definitely nuts!’
Weeks passed after that and the topic never got brought up, until Ghost came in with a bento in hand covered with a handkerchief with frilly ends. When asked about it, he replied, “Ah, wife’s testing out recipes for an upcoming TV show. ‘S been practicing and asked me to bring one.” Once again, he was given pity glances and even heard a defeated sigh from Soap. 
‘He’s too far gone’
“How’s work?” you ask, dazedly paying attention to the movie you guys put, more invested in burying your face in Simon’s chest while he drapes both arms on your waist, completely engulfing your torso under his muscles. “Been getting a few weird stares,” he mumbles, playing with your hair and pressing kisses on your forehead. “Why?” you peer up, resting your face on your chin. “I don’ know, princess.”
Meanwhile…
“Should we just… finally set the lieutenant on a date? I feel bad. I mean, he even lied about his “wife” making him lunch,” Johnny sighed.
“Probably the best idea,” Kyle nodded.
Now Price… he knows the truth. He met you before when you dropped by, asking for Ghost— which ended horribly— but he’ll lying if he said he’s not getting a kick out of this.
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: probably won't be posting for a while :] Did you guys notice the hint to my previous work? Please do. 😔
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!!
check out my other works: ⚝!
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Text
she's mean, and he loves her for it.
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summary: your peers wonder how the ever-so-annoying gojo satoru can stand being in a relationship with you pairing: sunshine!gojo satoru x grumpy!female reader genre: angst, fluff warnings: none
Masterlist
"Did you guys know Gojo-sensei is dating-" Nobara looks around left and right before whispering your name in fear that you might be around.
"Ehhh?" Yuuji's eyebrows knit together. "No way. She's so scary and he's so...happy."
Nobara agrees, "She never smiles -- kinda looks like she has a permanent frown, too. She scares me."
"You think maybe she intimidated him to date her?"
Megumi watches as his two friends bicker about whether you and Satoru look good together, not realizing that you've heard everything they said. Megumi notices you've arrived to teach them and clears his throat, catching the attention of his two friends. He glances at you to check how you're doing after hearing what they said, but as expected, you remain professional and stoic. But Megumi knows better, he grew up under your and Satoru's wings after all.
"Shit." Nobara and Yuuji mutter under their breaths.
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It's fairly common for people to question your relationship with Satoru. He's this... happy-go-lucky guy who annoys everyone except those on the same wavelength as him, while you keep to yourself, prioritizing your alone time, and taking things seriously.
Sometimes, too serious.
You never let it get to you, though, because you don't really care what people say. You and Satoru are happy, that's all that matters. Until recently, when those jerk Kyoto students came over to train, they started talking about you and Satoru.
"She's so serious all the time, I don't understand how Gojo puts up with her."
"I think he's scared to breakup with her."
"I bet she's high maintenance."
"Honestly, why is he with her when he can be with someone who's... not so difficult?"
You grit your teeth at that last comment. You can't tell who said what, but it doesn't matter. Their words got to your head and now you're angry. Angry because you're scared they might be right.
Does Satoru think you're difficult? You're not entirely sure how to show them that yes, you deserve Satoru despite being the dark, grumpy person you are.
Sighing, you decide to go home instead of joining the dinner. Satoru's not in there anyway, he just got back from a mission and is waiting for you at home.
Once you close the door to your apartment, you immediately feel Satoru's arm envelope around you from behind. He smells like fresh mint -- just got out of the shower.
"Hi darling," he kisses your cheek.
"Hi, Toru." You take your shoes off and give him a quick peck before making your way to the bedroom to put your stuff down.
Satoru watches you slowly, "hm, aren't you supposed to have that dinner with the Kyoto students today?"
Your jaw clenches, taking a second before shrugging. "Decided to skip it. I'm tired."
He just hums, "In that case, you wanna watch Bridgerton with me after your shower?"
"Again?" You groan, "Isn't it like the third time you've watched it?"
"Yes, and?"
"I'll skip, thanks."
He blows a raspberry and leaves you to shower while he lays down on the couch to watch Anthony Bridgerton fall in love with his Kate Sheffield.
While you were in the shower, the words kept coming back to you. Somehow more exaggerated. You're difficult. He doesn't like you. He's just tolerating you. Why would he be with someone who doesn't even smile? Look at him, Gojo is the epitome of sunshine. You're nothing like him. Why would he like you?
Groaning, you let the hot water wash away your thoughts -- though they don't really go away. Maybe you should just try to be nicer to Satoru, be more cheerful.
After your shower, you see him lying down on the couch while watching his show, and you sit on the other end, silently dreading having to watch the same show again. But you're doing this for Satoru, so you will.
With a satisfied grin, Satoru saunters over and lies down on top of you, his head resting on your chest. You smile softly, enjoying the tight grip he has on you and his soft hair between your fingers.
"How was the mission?" You ask, "Did you have to go to Shoko?"
Satoru shakes his head, "Sweetheart, it's me we're talking about here."
"You can still get hurt, Toru." You pat his hair gently, "I've seen you bleed."
"I'm always careful. Don't worry." He kisses your hand.
You sigh softly. You know Satoru is always careful, it's just that he always goes on missions alone, and more often nowadays that it makes you worry. Yes, he's the strongest, but you never want to take that for granted.
"Toru," You call him again, a little hesitant, "You know I love you, right?"
He lifts his head from your chest, staring at you with those big blue eyes. "Of course. And I love you. So much."
He kisses you deeply, now switching positions so you're lying down on top of him. "So do you want to talk about it?"
"No.." You mumble. Of course, Satoru knows. He isn't stupid. He can sense when something's wrong with you, just like how you can feel the scar on his hip that wasn't there before. He did go to Shoko.
But none of you say anything. You just hold each other tighter that night. It's more than enough.
-----
Satoru is on another mission. It's supposed to be easy, at least that's what he said 3 days ago. You haven't heard from him at all in 3 days and you're beginning to worry. Your frown is deeper than usual, you sigh more often, and your fuse is shorter.
Everyone's more scared of you.
You let the kids take a break while you try to collect your thoughts. You can't be seen so distracted, not when Satoru left you in charge of them.
"You doing okay?" You hear Megumi's voice approach you.
Blinking away the tears that almost fell, you turn around to face him. "I'm fine, Megs."
"I told you not to call me that..." He sulks as he stands next to you, leaning against the wall. He can see you're distraught, and growing up with you, there's only been a handful of times he's seen you like this.
"You know he's going to be fine, right?"
You sigh. "I'm just worried."
You remember once when Satoru didn't come back for a week. He couldn't be reached, no one could track him down, and you were just at home, taking care of Megumi. The boy's more like you than Satoru, he's not exactly sensitive or cheery. But he knows when you're feeling sad, so he'd stay up with you, praying for Satoru's safety.
"Guys!" Yuuji runs towards you and Megumi.
"What is it, Yuuji?"
"It's Gojo-sensei-" He pants, "He's back!"
You run as fast as you can with Yuuji and Megumi, and you can finally see your white-haired, blue-eyed boyfriend limping his way back to the school grounds.
He raises his hand and waves to you with a big smile despite struggling to walk. "Tsk-" You frown even more, feeling the tears pooling again as you walk towards him and catch him in an embrace.
"Umph-" He groans. "Hi, baby."
You let go of him and check his injuries -- he's healed most of it himself, thank goodness, but the bruises are still there. "We need to go to Shoko-"
"Mm, that can wait." He pulls you to sit down on the soft grass, hugging you once again. "It's okay, I'm here now."
You choke on your own sobs and hug him tighter, sitting between his legs and burying your head in his chest. "You idiot."
"'M sorry for makin' you worry," he smiles gently, leaving kisses all over your face.
As you cup his face in your hands, you're suddenly very aware of the 3 pairs of eyes staring at you both. Noticing it too, Satoru covers your red, embarrassed face. "Okay, nothing to see here. Go.. do something. Scram. Skedaddle."
Once the kids are gone, he chuckles and thinks you're being really cute. "They're gone, sweets."
You glare at his teasing smile.
Satoru wipes away your tears, kissing your frown away. "What took you so long?" You ask after kissing him deeply, not letting him go.
A smirk lingers on Satoru's lips. "I took a detour to Kyoto after the mission to teach some kids a lesson."
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bella-goths-wife · 2 days
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I have quite enjoyed your 'The V's Pet' Fics, and taking the opportunity that your requests are open, I wanted to see Charlie meet Sound manipulator reader. Maybe she meets the reader when she goes to Angel's Dust workplace to try and convinse Val to let him stay on the Hotel for a longer period of time?.
Charlie meeting Vs pet reader
Warnings: Valentino, forced affection, SA mentions, reader is uncomfortable with touch, drugging
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“Excuse me” Charlie awkwardly squeezed through the many naked bodies that filled Valentino’s studio “um, sorry”
Charlie averted her eyes with blush covering her face as she aimlessly searched for either Valentino to talk to or angel dust to guide her.
After what feels like an agonising amount of time, Charlie just awkwardly searches for an escape from the cornucopia of flesh for somewhere to wait for angel dust.
And then she sees it, a pink door with angel dusts name on it embedded into a star.
Charlie rushes for the door in a hurry, awkwardly bumping into a few of the actors who just scoff at her and carry on the preparation for the scene.
Charlie bursts through the door, too embarrassed to wait outside and knock. In the process she scares the life out of you as you sit on the small couch in angel dusts dressing room with a computer on your lap.
“Oh, your not angel” Charlie says with an awkward chuckle before her face turns desperately apologetic “I’m so so sorry for bursting in without knocking, it was just so naked out there-“
“It’s fine” you cut off her rambling as you close the laptop and stand up from the couch to talk to her, having to wrench your head back to look at her “angel dust is with Val right now, he lets me stay in his dressing room sometimes so I don’t have to wait for Val outside”
“Oh” Charlie says with a surprised tone that angel dust would do something so considerate without prompting, she then takes the to actually take in your appearance
You were dressed quite fashionably but surprisingly more on the modest side for a porn studio, with your clothes having a matching colour scheme to Valentino, Charlie assumed that you must be a personal favourite of his.
You had quite doe like eyes and ears, that were currently flopped down against your position that reminded Charlie of how alastors ears would position themselves when he was unimpressed or unhappy.
You were quite young looking. You were clearly a teenager but you barely looked a day past eighteen with a baby face that made your presence in Valentino’s studio feel even more disturbing.
“Sooo…” Charlie said with an awkward tone as you both stood staring at each other “are you an actor here?”
You pull an almost disgusted face before realising your professionalism and changing it back to neutral looking.
“No” you answer firmly with a shake of your head “I don’t do that kind of work, I’m an assistant to the Vs”
“Oh thank god” Charlie lets out an exhale of relief before giving you an apologetically desperate look “no offence or anything, it’s just that you look so young, but not in a bad way! Your just-“
You interrupt the princesses nervous ramblings with a small chuckle, the first positive emotion you’d show since she’d stepped foot into the dressing room.
“It’s fine” you reassure with a small, almost hesitant smile “I get it a lot, the curse of a baby face I suppose”
“Yeah” Charlie lets out a breath of relief at your reassurance and without thinking she places a hand on your shoulder.
You don’t reject the affection like you would with most people, the warmth that her palm emits and the joy of her smile makes you feel comfortable with her touch. You don’t feel a threat lurking behind her affection or her smile.
“I’m Charlie” she introduces herself with a bright smile, as if the princess of hell needed an introduction “what’s your name?”
“Pet” you answer automatically with your title, shocking yourself as you try and recall your name after a few moments.
“Pet?” Charlie says with a questioning tone and a confused expression “your name is pet?”
“No, sorry” you say as you shake your head as you try and remember your name before opening your mouth to answer “my name is-“
“Pet” Valentino yells as he enters the dressing room with angel in tow, startling both you and Charlie “are you almost finished with-“
He cuts himself off as he notices Charlie standing there. His eyes dart down to her hand on your shoulder and you feel yourself step back from her touch instinctively at the silent warning, you knew the rules.
“Well, if it isn’t the little princesa of hell” Valentino coos with forced cheer and a large amount of condescension “what did we do to deserve your presence”
“Hello, Valentino” Charlie says with a forced smile as she takes in angel dusts terrified expression at her presence and your immediate shut down at Valentino’s presence “I came here to discuss angel dusts work schedule”
“Oh, is that so?” Valentino says with a quirked brow as he slinks his way over to you and puts an arm around your shoulders in a silent threat, you try your best to hide your shiver of discomfort but Charlie still catches it “I’m sure that my little pet here has filled you in on whatever you needed to know while you two chatted, but I’m happy to accommodate any questions you have”
You felt Charlie’s concerned gaze land on you, and you also felt Valentino’s arm squeeze tighter at Charlie’s clear suspicion and concern.
“But first, I think it’s best we do this privately” Valentino says with a smirk as he points to the door “why don’t you wait for me in my office while I check up on my little assistant here”
“Oh” Charlie says with a confused expression as her eyes scream concerns for you, but she eventually nods in a hesitant disagreement “okay”
As Charlie leaves, Valentino walks over to angel dusts mini fridge and pulls out a bottle of water before crushing some pills and putting them in the water. He hands to the water with a stern grin
“Drink this pet” he commands with a smile “I think it’s best you have a little nap while your new friend and I have a chat”
“But-“ you try and protest but your cut off
“No arguing princesa” Valentino commands as his grin drops “we don’t want to get Vox involved, do we?”
You shake your head before taking the water and taking a gulp out of it, knowing it’d take about ten minutes for the sleeping pills to kick in
“Good girl” Valentino praises you uncomfortably before turning to angel dust “go to set when she’s asleep, and lock the door after you leave”
Angel dust nods before Valentino takes his leave and angrily slamming the door. Angel turns to you with a defeatedly sympathetic look before you stand on your tip toes and you motion for him to bend down so you could wipe some blood off his nose from where he’d been smacked.
“Hangin’ in there kid?” Angel dust asks as he walks you to the couch and lays you down on it
“Doing my best Angie” you say with a yawn as he covers you with his robe as a blanket “what about you?”
“I’ve been better” he says with a sigh, you notice the bruising on his arms and around his hips with a sympathetic gaze “I don’t know how I’m gonna deal with Charlie bein’ here”
“She’s nice” you comment as your eyes close and you hug the pillows on the couch to your face “do you think she liked me?”
“Impossible not to, kid” angel says with a small chuckle as he strokes your head comfortingly before getting up and heading for the door “sweet dreams kid”
“Knock them dead Angie” you say half asleep with a tired smile “you’ll be great”
“Thanks kid” angel says with a soft sigh as he leaves you and locks the door after he leaves
“Please god” he thinks to himself “please let Valentino be in a good mood after this, she can’t go through another punishment”
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flkwh0re · 3 days
Text
Casual
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warnings: Alcohol/ Drug consumption, Basic sex, Angst, Fighting.
A/n: Based on the song Casual by Chappell Roan, linked below this.
Word Count: 1.1k
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Casual sex. That's what Natasha called it, though nothing about it seemed casual. The way she held you after, the longing looks she gave you. It was all full of love. She'd always invite you over, mostly for sex, but sometimes she wanted nothing more than to just love you.
Natasha and you were sat next to one another, around a table that her friends were gathered around. You didn't much care for them, you liked Wanda and Bucky though. Wanda was the sweetest, always truly interested in your life. Bucky was quiet, but also sweet which you liked in a person. The rest were loud, obnoxious, and just straight up assholes.
Natasha's arm held tightly around your waist, pulling you close to her as her legs rested on the table. A burning cigarette held between her fingers, occasionally pulling it up to her lips. You'd watch her as she's tilt her head back, blowing the smoke into the air.
On the table was an array of different alcoholic beverages, playing cards, and ash trays. You didn't know why she had even invited you to something like this, it was just a group of her and her friends hanging out.
"Whatcha thinkin' about in that pretty li'l head of yours?" Nat asked, looking deep into your eyes. A drunken smirk plastered across her face, how you loved that look she gave you. "Nothin much."
She hummed, turning her attention back to the game of rummy she was playing. Slamming the cards down on the table, all four aces lined up. Everyone groaned, even though they knew they didn't stand a chance against her.
She hopped up and cheered loudly, pulling you to stand. Playfully dancing around with you, your shared laughter filled the air. Natasha pulled your flush face to hers, smiling proudly and kissed you with the most love she ever had.
You knew nothing she gave was real, it broke your heart. You had spent nights thinking about her, crying because you just want her to love you back. To see you as more than just sex.
Natasha pulled away, a guilted look of panic on her face. You never understood why she would even try to show that she loved you, you figured it was some issue with some past partner, maybe her parents. She wouldn’t dare open up to you, or anyone.
“Natasha come sit back down, bring your girlfriend too.” Tony yelled from the room. Natasha let go of you, and walked back. “She’s not my girlfriend Tony.” Nat scoffed at the man. “Doesn’t see like that’s the case, especially the way you talk about her.” He snapped back. “How does she talk about me?” You piped up. Before you could get your answer, Natasha pulled out a plastic bag.
“Who wants to smoke?” She asked, sounds of excitement erupted from the group. Not you though, you just wanted your answer. “You want?” Natasha asked, handing the blunt to you. “Oh, you know I’m not really into smoking.” She chuckled, “C’mon doll, just one time? For me?” She begged, a faux pout on her lip.
You sighed and agreed, wrapping your lips around the blunt breathing in the smoke. You released it from your lungs onto Natasha’s face, her coughing. “Hey, what the fuck?!” You giggled, “That’s what you get.” Natasha stood upright, grabbing you and pulling you to the bathroom. “Nat what are you doing?” She bit her lip, “Getting pay back.”
Her fingers fumbled with the clasp of your jeans, her lips pressed against yours. Passion ignited between you two once again, tongues tangled with one another. Her hand slipped past the band of your panties, her rough fingertips grazing your clit.
Moans slip past your lips, as her fingers pumped in and out of you. Cum quickly coated her fingers, and she slipped her hand out of your pants. Natasha sucked her fingers clean of your arousal, “God I love-“ Your heart rate sped up, “The way you taste.” Oh.
Nat dropped to her knees, pulling your pants down with her. Her mouth attached to your pussy, tongue expertly pleasing you. Her hand intertwined with yours, holding you tightly like she’d loose you.
You had never cried during sex until now, tears welled up in your eyes. She loved you, you knew she loved you so much. Why would she just not allow herself to love you how she wanted to?
Her free hand gripped softly on your hip, her thumb caressing your hip bone trying to sooth your shaking body. With a final push you came undone in her tongue, body almost giving away but she held you up.
She helped you calm down, and clean yourself up. Sharing loving looks with you, soft kisses here and there in your face. “You okay?” She questioned.
“Nat, what are we?” You asked, looking up at her with red eyes and tears spilling down your face.
“What? We’re friends I guess.” She shrugged, more tears spilled. “No Nat, this. What we have going on. The sex, the way you look at me.” She shook her head, “I don’t look at you any differently than I do all the others, this is nothing more than just sex Y/n. Nothing more.”
Your lips quivered as she raised her voice at you. “I told you Y/n, no attachments, just casual sex.” You shook your head, “No Nat! What the fuck are we?! This is not just casual sex! It’s not casual when I hang out with all your best friends, when you look at me like you love me, when you hold my hand when you fuck me. I tried to distance myself but you insisted I don’t! What two people that have casual sex do that!?”
Your voice raised at the final sentence, Natasha’s face contorted to a shocked expression. Her mouth held open, bottom lip quivered as she fought back her own tears. “No, you don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s all in your head, none of that exist!” She shouted back.
“You’re so fucking unbelievable Nat, I thought you thought of me better!” You snapped. “No you just can’t fucking do anything without thinking it has to mean something! Do not ever come around me again.” She yelled, then ripped the bathroom door open.
“Natasha stop it!” You shouted after her, “Please don’t go!” All her friends now rushing to the two of you, Wanda catching up to you first. She gave you a soft sympathetic look. “Goodbye Y/n, please don’t try snd contact me.” Tears slipped from her eyes.
It wrecked you, seeing her like this. You choked back your cried, trying to keep your composure together. The moment she was gone though, you broke down. Wanda tried to console you, allowing you to cry in her arms.
All her friends were shocked, even they knew Natasha had something more for you.
Masterlist
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Milkman (Francis mosses) x fem! Reader
Thick as blood
Sweet as milk
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Ah yes, you. The new doorman. The DDD hired you for your attention to detail and ability to examine more than just physical detail but the way people talked, their actions even the movement in their eyes.
Dopples are horrible at those details, some are just straight stupid and don’t try
But today was your first day in the building fresh from training, the building didn’t have a doorman before so you were ready for confrontation and confusion
Your uniforms was meant to look friendly, with a DDD button the the left breast. the DDD issued you with a pistol in case a Dopple did get in.
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The block has been notified and given everything they needed to get in. Now it was your job to make sure they were safe
The day went slow no one coming in till lunch, you were not given one but you were allowed to eat whenever suited you
Soon tho a very happy woman came by…she had heterochromia at first you assumed dopple before looking at her papers
Right Nacha Mikaelys . Everything checked out as you studied her taking notes in your head, she smiled seemingly unaware of what was happening “how’s your day so far?” She asked looking through her purse, possibly for her keys “going well, I’m y/n your new doorman” you replied passing back her papers “have a good day ma’am” she nodded taking them back “pleased to meet you y/n see you tomorrow “ Nacha waved and walked out of sight
You got up from your chair to walk around your small office, you fix up your uniform as you hear someone come up to your glass panel. It was a milkman..? you raised your eyebrows at him. He didn’t look quite surprised to see you. He slid his papers into the slot and waited. You grabbed the papers and looked up and down at them. You then looked up at him and studied his features while trying to talk to him. “Hi I’m y/n the new doorman pleased to meet you, Mr. Moses.”
“Mm…pleased to meet you y/n”
Oh god. You blushed! What a schoolgirl
You slid the papers to him quickly looking down “all is in order, good day sir” you almost stuttered before looking back up at his dark tired eyes “good.” He walked off not noticing your sudden change in tone.
Oh god he sounded like a night time soap, deep and soft. you could listen to him read a chapter book and hang on every word, a phone book would sound sexy! And his eyes! Ugh you would kiss them if possible! You let your blush stay as you fell head over heels for a man that spoke 6 words to you (I counted) another person stood before you, before you could even greet them you stopped in your tracks
It wasn’t human. Its face was a drawing taped to it. No mouth but it spoke “allow me in please”
You softly pressed the urgency button as you slid out your gun. You could hear the dopple screech and writhe behind the glass and metal shutter while you called your superiors “I have one” you spoke sternly not wanting to show any fear “on the way” the triple D officer spoke. You stood back pistol in hand breathing slowly to calm down soon though the screeching stopped and the metal shutter lifted revealing a man in a yellow suit “dopple eliminated. Good work” he walked away with 2 others carrying a body bag.
You shivered placing the weapon back in its place you were glad most of those things were dumb but it made it no less horrifying
Your mind raced as you thought about the two things that just happened to you almost simultaneously first having a girl crush on a milkman and now almost getting killed by a stupid Dopple
Your immediate thought, as you sat down and tried to organize to calm your mind was, how does a milkman live in a building with such high earners ? How much does a milkman make ?you pondered looking over the files of residents
After introducing yourself to a couple of other residents, the day ends, and it’s time for your shift to end as well.
One Dopple the rest human honestly the best you could hope for on a first day, the other thing you could look forward to is that because you do work in this building, you can live in the building for way less rent than everybody else, you picked up your items from the desk and made sure everything was clean before you left and lock the door behind you no one was allowed to leave or enter the building after 10 PM unless of course it was an emergency, but they would be escorted by DDD officer at the front of the building 
You took the elevator to your apartment “F05” the old landlord room, it used to be boarded up but the DDD had it refurbished for you, still looked a little dingy but ultra cheap rent for a 2 room apartment was worth it
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You opened the door but jumped a little hearing another door “oh” you heard the deep voice looking to your left, Francis in a white wife beater and a cardigan. He has a cigarette in his fingers unlit “oh sorry you startled me goodnight Mr.mosses” you tried to excuse yourself quickly but to your surprise he spoke up “I didn’t know you lived here, actually I didn’t know there was a 5th apartment” he finally lit his cigarette taking a long drag (it’s the 50s) you nodded hoping to clear his confusion “ it was boarded up in the early 40s, it’s called a lord suite. a place for the landlord to stay in case of quick repairs or whatever else may happen” he listened rather intently taking the cig out of his mouth, god did you want him to ask you to take a puff just to indicate something “oh…I remember those really fell out of fashion huh?” He asked passing the half done cancer stick. You screamed in your head agreeing with him and taking in the smoke “well enjoy, I need to sleep” he walked back to his apartment almost slamming the door, was he mad? He didn’t indicate anger or distrust, you finished the cigarette and smudged it out on your stove placing the butt on the counter almost contemplating about saving it… you were weirding yourself out a bit but came back to.
You did as all necessary and got ready for bed
You dreamt of Francis sitting on the roof with you holding you close both of you in your uniforms as you kissed him deep and hungry begging for more in your movements you felt him move down to bite softly at your ne- TRRRIING TRRING
your alarm clock yelled at you a few more times before you could slam your hand down on it groaning and streaching “god I am down bad”
End pt 1
I know but the game is set in like 1955 America but it gives me such Soviet vibes 
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yippee! apologies if my takes are horrendously bad
my personal take on the matter is that i definitely think the dark worlds can work as a metaphor for escapism without undermining the darkners' personhood. it can be more than one thing, yknow? the darkners are important, their lives matter. and the lightners do go to the dark world as an escape from the problems they face in their own life. but that's not the darkners' whole PURPOSE, yknow? i mean. according to the laws of the universe of deltarune yes darkners' "purpose" is to serve the lightners but like it's not their whole purpose in the STORY.
it's sort of like how, in UNDERTALE, LOVE represents how distant you've become, how easy it is for you to hurt people. but it also literally gives you the power to destroy the world.
i think the biggest reason i believe escapism is at least a part of deltarune's narrative is queen.
queen's whole speech in both of her fights is about how she intends to provide escapism for the lightners (so that they will worship her but also so that they will he happy). she wants to turn the whole world into a dark world, so that everyone can live in bliss and not have to worry about the woes of the light world. she mentions "Staring, Tapping, To Receive Joy. Staring, Tapping, To Avoid Pain." which is like pretty much the definition of escapism
she wants to help Noelle with the problems she faces in the light world ("Noelle. Who Will Be There To Help Her? Her Strange And Sad Searches" and "My One Idea To Help Noelle, Failed") by just... shoving it away for a blissful fantasy world ("Wake? No, She Has Already Awakened Too Much. Let Her Close Her Eyes And Sleep Away, Into A Darker, Darker Dream.")
...i forgot the rest of what i wanted to say!
well first off, thank you for your ask! I'm going to get extremely in depth in my answer, so bear with me here. sorry it took several weeks to write this. the escapism reading of deltarune is pretty deeply entrenched in fandom, and to refute it, I felt it required a full-length essay to completely explain my viewpoint.
yes, "the lightners desire escapism" does not automatically translate to that being the darkners' actual narrative purpose. escapism can be a theme without dehumanizing those who are used in order to escape - in fact, I've read a number of stories that use someone's desire to escape to HIGHLIGHT how they're hurting others in pursuit of that. I believe that toby fox is definitely capable of telling a story about kids having a valid desire to escape, and about them grappling with having inadvertently created a world of real, living people as a result.
(I'll reiterate again that this is not the story arc that most people who espouse that escapism is a theme believe will happen. most people seem to believe that the game will end in an omori-esque "growing out of" the dark worlds. it's why I have a huge dislike of the fanon escapism reading, given that the darkners are shown as people whose lack of agency parallels kris' own. it would feel cheap if the resolution to that plot was that the darkners were actually never meant to be agents in their own fates. but this is a digression.)
the reason why i DON'T believe that this is a story that toby fox is telling is because of the way the world, themes, and characters are written. put simply, it just doesn't come across as congruent with the story being told.
deltarune's main themes are agency, fate, identity, and control. this is a conflict that shows up in nearly every major character, is baked into the worldbuilding, and is the central struggle involving us, the player. the protagonist of deltarune is literally possessed by us against their will. the darkners are objects that have no choice but to serve and be discarded. over and over again, there is emphasis on roles that characters play - and crucially, roles that are imposed on them.
what would escapism mean, in this thematic context? in real life, escapism can represent any number of things, but in a story, a major narrative theme generally has to dovetail with other major narrative themes in the work. I would argue that escapism in deltarune would likely mean going to a place where characters are able to choose for themselves what roles they embody, or even to discard the notion of roles altogether. a fantasy of control is the only way to escape a reality where you have no agency. and honestly, it's hard to imagine that something could count as an escapist fantasy if you don't even get to choose whether or not you participate in it.
let's talk about kris.
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I see a lot of discussions around kris that say that kris goes into the dark worlds to escape. the dark worlds are posited as kris' fantasy of heroism. it's a world where they can seem heroic and cool, a world where they can have friends. what i find interesting about these discussions is that they seem to ignore the extremely basic fact that kris is being controlled in order to go into the dark worlds. and it is not a control that they appear to welcome.
if those worlds represent kris' fantasy, then why don't they get to choose what happens in those fantasies? why are they being controlled by an external force, one that they actively push back against? if it's really an escape, then why does everything about this world reflect their lack of agency? if they really think this world is just a pure fantasy, then why do they care if spamton falls when his strings are cut?
because they're being deliberately obscured to the player, it is hard to say how kris actually feels about many subjects... but I do seriously doubt that they view the dark worlds as an escape. they don't act in a way that is consistent with that. they resist their lack of agency, and what little we do see of their reactions to darkner characters doesn't suggest that they view those characters as part of a disposable fantasy, either. they seem to have complicated feelings on ralsei. and of course, one of their biggest emotional reactions in the game is to the spamton fight. I would argue that that suggests they have empathy for spamton, which is a hard emotional reaction to have if you believe he's just part of a fantasy. not impossible, mind you, but it seems unlikely that kris believes that all this is simply fantasy.
also, considering that snowgrave both actively discredits the idea that the dark worlds are mere fantasy and is actively traumatic for kris... I seriously doubt they'd open another dark world in chapter 3 on a snowgrave run if their motive was purely to escape. on that route, they've seen the damage we can cause in a dark world. they know that berdly has sustained lasting damage due to our actions, assuming he's not outright dead. why would they want to try and "escape" to a place like that again now that they know what can happen?
the only answer is that they have a motive that isn't escapist.
now, as for ralsei... what part does he have to play in all this?
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ralsei does play a lot to the fun, fantastical elements of the dark worlds. he delivers the prophecy that kickstarts the adventure. he flatters both kris and susie endlessly when they act appropriately heroic. he welcomes them into the castle and even makes nice rooms for them. he initially seems tailor-made to enable a fantastical experience where no real issues can ever complicate anything, and where the pain of reality can successfully be hidden from. but there's a lot of complications to the idea that he might represent an escapist fantasy.
the first, and what honestly seems the most important to me, is that he doesn't encourage kris and susie to remain in the dark worlds. he is welcoming and kind, but once the adventure is over, he prompts them to return to the light world. he wants them to deal with their more "real" problems like homework. that doesn't feel like he is trying to facilitate escapism in them. a real fantasy would encourage you to stay in it, wouldn't it?
and while ralsei is definitely invested in making sure the lightners are happy, there are always cracks that show. he isn't able to make kris ignore what happened in the spamton fight. he isn't able to convince susie to be peaceful and kind. and in his very essence, he represents a number of uncomfortable ideas. very importantly, he represents a number of uncomfortable ideas to kris.
this probably ain't your first fandom rodeo, so I'm not going to explain all the different ways that ralsei interacts with kris' personal issues. there's plenty of posts on it out there. what i will point out is, once again, it feels odd that a character who seems tailor made to bring up kris' most uncomfortable associations with their lack of agency and their outsider status in their own family would be part of a fantasy of escapism to them. you'd think that they'd prefer something that didn't have an inbuilt hierarchy, a prophecy that denied them autonomy, or especially a person that reminded them how little they fit into hometown.
that doesn't mean kris doesn't care about him at all - it seems very likely that they do. what I mean to say here is that he just seems ill-suited to an escapism reading, both behaviorally and on a conceptual level. it doesn't seem like that's at all part of his servitude towards the lightners.
of course, there is another non-lightner entity that ralsei seems diegetically engineered to serve. but I'll discuss that later.
now as for susie...
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yes, susie definitely views the dark worlds as more fun than the light world. and why wouldn't she? the light world sucks for her, and she doesn't seem very aware of the fact that the dark world can also suck. you could definitely make the argument that she views the dark worlds as a fantastical escape from reality... were it not for the fact that she treats her darkner friends with just as much importance as she does kris and noelle.
can someone treat components of an escapist fantasy as real and important? of course. but given deltarune's themes of agency and control, as well as the fact that darkners exist in servitude to the lightners, I feel like you'd have to make escapism tie into forcing others into a lack of agency if you wanted the theme to feel coherent with the rest of the work. this would require susie to be limiting the agency of the darkners around her. and obviously, she doesn't do that. her presence around them might be inherently limiting, just by simple virtue of being a lightner, but she isn't aware of it, and clearly is uncomfortable with the idea of limiting anyone's agency. she encourages ralsei to make choices. and she supports lancer in basically anything he wants to do. her treatment of lancer is integral to chapter 1's narrative, and it seems like that treatment of ralsei is integral to the ongoing narrative as well!
her preference for the dark world feels very rooted in her engagement with it as its own reality. rather than trying to avoid her real-life problems by engaging in a pretense, she seems to simply want to spend time with her friends in a place that isn't cruel to her. she isn't ignoring any of the dark world's problems in service of that, either. she notices when things don't line up. if she thought of it as a fantasy, wouldn't she be inclined to ignore issues that impede the fantasy?
and critically - like kris, she does not intentionally choose her imposed role in the prophecy at first. she steps into the role of bad guy to resist it, but that role is limiting too, and she eventually acquiesces to being a hero. it's never something she's completely on board with, though. she actively pushes back the limitations that the role places on her. I find this important to reiterate when we are discussing the notion of the characters viewing the dark worlds as fantasy.
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noelle has a complicated relationship to the dark worlds. susie tells her that it's a dream to make her accept the strange reality she finds herself in, which works well on her. she continues to think of it as a strange dream throughout the chapter. (though, like the others, it is not a 'dream' she entered of her own volition!)
it is also a markedly unpleasant 'dream' at times. she has her agency restricted, is kidnapped, has to evade a controlling monarch, and is even tied up in a weird evangelion cross thing on the hand of a giant robot. it's not purely fun. noelle does like scary things, and while it might be healthy for her to have an experience where she stands up to a controlling adult figure... again, the circumstances make it difficult for me to assume that this is a fantasy she would choose for herself. not impossible, mind you, but it's not the first reading of the situation that comes to mind.
and while she does say she wishes she could dream like this every day in the normal route, that does happen specifically because she was talking to the girl she likes. it makes sense she'd find that pleasant. I don't think that necessarily equates to her finding the dark worlds escapist.
and importantly, this isn't the sentiment that she expresses in every route.
again, there's a lot of analysis on snowgrave, so I won't bother regurgitating it much here. but it's nightmarish for both kris and noelle, and very likely fatal for berdly. noelle needs to believe that the event is a dream, for her own psychological safety, but one of the most important parts of snowgrave...
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...is that its events, and the world it took place in, are very, very real.
noelle wants to have the strength to face her problems, both in the regular route and in the snowgrave route. rather than escaping from them, she views the "dream" as a chance to practice dealing with her day-to-day issues. it's just that in the regular route she finds that strength authentically, and in the snowgrave route, that desire is manipulated and pushed until she is forced to kill berdly. she doesn't interpret snowgrave as an escape gone wrong. she views it as a dream that became a nightmare. and those are two extremely different things.
but i haven't even gotten to the biggest thing that undermines the concept that the dark worlds are a metaphor for escapism! which is: this fucking guy is dead wrong about everything.
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so full disclaimer - I really love berdly. I think he's slept on a lot in the fandom because he's annoying and weird. which is fair, I suppose, but I think ignoring him hinders a lot of people's understanding of deltarune's overall narrative. because berdly often illustrates a lot of concepts in the game, but his narrative framing as a joke (usually...) prevents the player from taking it completely seriously. he has things to say and ideas to show off, it's just that he's often very loud and kind of dumb in his expression of them. which is kind of the point!
ralsei brings up the idea that the darkners are meant to serve the lightners very seriously in chapter one. by extension, and by way of the literal mechanics involved in a dark world's creation, we can infer that this logic is probably something that also applies to the dark worlds themselves. they are allegedly worlds and characters that only are supposed to fulfill a dream of the lightners. but due to narrative framing and deltarune's themes, we know that that's not the full truth. however dark worlds and darkners are created, they deserve to have their own agency. they can't just exist to fulfill a higher being's wishes.
you know who else undermines that view of the dark worlds? berdly! berdly does!!!!
because berdly is the only lightner in the game so far who does take the dark worlds to be an escapist adventure! he wants to turn cyber world into smartopia. he views this as a chance to be a cool hero. he believes he's going to get the girl, he's going to shape this world to his own liking, and maybe also he's going to get queen to acknowledge him or something so he stops being a forgettable little bluebird. and not only does none of this happen, his steadfast belief that it will happen is continually a joke within the narrative!!
berdly's wishes for uncomplicated escapist fantasy are flat-out denied by the dark worlds themselves. as a lightner, those worlds should be serving him. he should have the power to do whatever he wants within the bounds of an escapist fantasy. these npcs should be singing his praises!
but he doesn't have the power. and this world doesn't sing his praise. because it just isn't an escapist fantasy. he isn't right to view it that way. his wishes for heroism are always going to be thwarted.
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so now that I've gotten all that out of the way, let's swing back over to the subject of your original ask. queen.
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because, like berdly, queen's entire character arc is about how she's completely wrong about what the lightners actually want.
queen would in fact like nothing more to place the lightners into an escapist fantasy. she believes that that's the best way to serve them and make them happy forever. as a darkner, queen has very much internalized the idea that a lack of control is what actually makes people happy. since darkners have no choice in their destinies and are supposed to be happy in it, and since she personally finds her role as a darkner fulfilling, she believes that that's true of all people everywhere. if you want to make people happy, you just have to remove that pesky personal agency!
so she spends the story trying to force the lightners and particularly noelle into situations where she controls them in order to make them ostensibly happier. she does genuinely believe that this is the right thing to do, but as she finds out eventually, she's just wrong. noelle doesn't want that. queen believes that escapism is why the lightners use the internet... but that's totally wrong too.
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while there are other searches mixed in, noelle is trying to use the internet to find her sister. instead of trying to hide from whatever happened, noelle wants to figure it out. queen's thesis about noelle and the lightners is proven wrong even before she personally encounters noelle in the dark world. it's just that queen doesn't realize it due to her limited perspective.
the concept of escapism being brought up with both queen and berdly is not there to say that the dark world is escapist. rather, it's there to say that it isn't. despite the dark worlds being a fantastical place, they are extremely real. to view them as a means of escape is foolhardy at best. you cannot act as though you are above consequences within them.
themes and ideas exist within the story for a sake of an audience. so let's get into the final character I need to discuss here. hopefully this will tie my thesis of deltarune together neatly.
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that character is of course us. the player.
when creating a piece of fiction, an astute author will often identify and anticipate an audience's reactions to certain things in their work, and write things in such a way that they elicit the desired reactions. in essence, a writer is directing the "character" of the audience. how we feel and how we are anticipated to react to things is an integral part of nearly every fiction.
that effect is far more overt when dealing with metanarrative fiction that diegetically involves the audience. since the fiction is saying a lot of things about the general 'you,' the audience in aggregate, your reactions to certain things in the story have to be finely cued and anticipated by the author, so that the author can thus commentate on the reactions that you have to the story. the "character" you are assumed to inhabit is posited by the author to have certain traits.
to explain what I mean in plainer terms, I'll use the player of undertale's no mercy route as an example. because undertale is commenting on the way rpgs generally work. the player's behaviors in no mercy are attributed by characters in the story to be the result of us acting like a typical gamer. we kill the characters in the game because we want exp. and more than that, it's because we want to see everything the game has to offer. the role we inhabit in this role-playing game is that of a completionist. you could say that that's assumed to be our "character" in no mercy.
deltarune also posits that certain things are true of its audience. by being written to evoke certain cultural ideas, rpg tropes, and references to undertale, it guarantees that its audience will probably have certain traits, and spends a large amount of its conceptual focus commenting on those traits. one of those traits is nostalgia, which is probably an idea that I'll expound upon in a further essay because it's quite integral to my reading of deltarune. but the main one I mean to discuss here, and why I went off on this tangent about how audiences are dealt with in metafiction, is that we are posited as someone who believes in the logic of certain narratives.
deltarune's writing evokes a lot of portal fantasy narratives. alice in wonderland, narnia, pretty much every story where it's revealed at the end to be all a dream... the story of deltarune superficially resembles a lot of those. this, I think, is responsible for the popularity of the escapism theory. because those stories are often at their end about a child learning to put away fantasy and grow up, people tend to believe that deltarune must be about the same thing. but I truly don't think that deltarune is trying to do anything with that aspect of portal fantasy narratives, at least not directly. its main characters aren't involved in that exact type of coming-of-age arc.
instead, deltarune is very concerned with what happens to characters in fantasy, and specifically fantasy rpgs. if your world is deemed to not matter because it's a dream, what does that mean for you, who has no choice but to live in it? if you are an npc whose role has been predetermined for you via script, then can you ever decide for yourself what you want? what if you want to matter? what if you want to be your own person?
as the major controlling force of deltarune, we are initially cued to believe that deltarune is like a dream. it superficially fulfills so much of what we want from undertale fanon. hometown seems like it's a perfect idyllic town, at least until you start noticing the obvious cracks. and remember what I said about ralsei earlier? he is so reminiscent of asriel, and extremely eager to help us. it's not a stretch to say that making us specifically view deltarune as dreamlike and idyllic is probably part of his purpose in the game.
I would not say that we are posited as escapist. but the idea of escapism as brought up with queen and berdly is meant to strike at the heart of a much deeper idea that deltarune is trying to deconstruct. because if we view deltarune as a dream, escapist or otherwise, then we are inclined to write the internal realities of the characters inside off. the dark world can disappear without it mattering. we can control kris without it mattering. if it's all a dream, what does it matter? why should we care to let its characters go free? aren't we supposed to be in control?
if deltarune is an rpg... what is the significance of us interacting with it?
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elusivemoon · 2 days
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꒰ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 ! ꒱
⋆˙⟢ in which satoru knows one day you'll kill him but tonight he'll let you fuck him and threaten him instead.
somewhere in the depths of himself, satoru knows he should have never let you get close to him. you’re a black widow parading around as a person, wit as sharp as the blade you wield, the sword you smith out of your pearly bones and hold the tip of to his throat. in this stage of his delusion, murdering him would be a mercy killing. his illness is the catalyst of all his suffering. at the root of all his problems is you. loving you is an incurable sickness, a fatal disease that percolates slowly into his bones, mingling with his blood. if you look down in the core of him, all that’ll be found is you smirking in every cavern as you weave your whims into the base of all his notions so shamelessly. he simply can’t resist you; the quiet truth is he doesn’t want to. you’re an infection, really, the way you make the thinnest cuts and seep into them all. love-laced and haunting, decaying in his wounds and leaving the sweetness of your rot behind. cut him open. love him while he bleeds. fuck him until he heals. leave him until he forgets. rinse, repeat. rinse, repeat. “is it too tight?” you ask, sultry voice wispy and dripping in allure. “do you think i don’t know what you’re here for?” satoru rasps, ignoring your question, hips bucking up as he whimpers, movements restricted by his new restraints and your thighs. “you’re not fooling me.” “but you let me come back.” you sing with a sweet laugh, something he should note as menacing but only hears and finds the beauty of you in. “you even let me tie you up like this.”
you straddle his lap, bare-bodied and leaving a trail of slick behind on the underside of his length as you rock yourself back and forth along the surface of him, thick girth made slippery between your folds, aroused by the way you always have him at your mercy, he’s sure. inwardly, he tells himself he’s going to stop letting you do this to him. he’s going to stop letting you push him to the brink of death and only bring him back to make him show you what the pinnacle of pleasure feels like. moonlight reflects on the surface of gleaming silver as you grip the intricately carved hilt in a tight fist. you smirk down at him, watching him writhe underneath you with delight as he strains to buck his hips again, begging for more friction, the head of his thick cock weeping for attention and searching for something to sink all the way into. you keep yourself mounted on him, lazily rocking to let him feel just how wet you are. satoru does feel it and he aches for you, twitching involuntarily as he tries desperately to find something for himself to grind into. his breathing is erratic and broken; he’s so close to begging you to slide down on it. all the way. no more teasing. right now he thinks he’ll die from the need alone. and when you drag the tip of a knife along the seam of his neck, his breath hitches. he feels the bead of pre that gathers spill over the head of his cock, sensitive to every sensation, even the cool air that brushes against his soft and flushed body, exposed and constrained by you. "what if i carve my name right...here? not enough to kill you, just enough to ruin you for anyone else." you say, dragging the spired weapon along his throat, the sting of a cut only familiar to him at your hands. breathing strained and chest heaving, satoru asks, “y-you think no one will want me after you?" "no, i just don't think you'll ever want anyone else." a smirk as he hisses at the sensation of it piercing skin and puncturing flesh. "i figured out something interesting about the strongest...he's desperate to be a masochist. you want so badly to feel pain but no one's been able to touch you until me. isn’t that right?” all of it goes right to his head: the blood in his body, the pride of your words, the indignity he feels flustered by. satoru can’t help the wet, pathetic moan he lets out followed by the shaky plea. “p-please, baby. please. i-i…”
“the answer is probably no.” you tell him, the tip of your dagger scratching down the middle of his chest. “baby, you are a little foolish. you do know one of these days i’ll actually kill you, don’t you?” satoru’s whimpers shape into pants, overwhelmed by both his arousal and his shame as ropes of cum sputter messily from the head of his cock to his tummy and between your thighs, smeared into the seam of your cunt from your movements.
he's dragged to bliss by your threats and a knife to his throat — all of it sounding like a promise to see each other again.
© 2024 elusivemoon. all rights reserved.
321 notes · View notes
cbini · 14 hours
Text
spring has sprung
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pairing: bang chan x afab!reader
warnings: 🔞!!!, public sex, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, begging, creampie
a/n: to the lovely anon who sent me the ask abt chan fucking you while you’re on a picnic and you’re wearing a pretty lil sundress……. hi <3 u probably just wanted a little blurb but well here’s This instead lmao. nothing much but i hope u enjoy!!
“you’re spoiling me today!” he grins. 
chan’s dimples pop when he looks at you. he tongues his cheek as he leans back onto the quilted blanket and props himself up on his elbows. 
it’s true. he is being spoiled, but that’s your favorite way for him to be. chan loves intimate dates like this, tucked away from prying eyes and busy streets. he’s talked about how much he loves picnics before. the wistfulness in his eyes was so all-encompassing when he told you they reminded him of warm weather and home that you knew you had to do this for him. 
chan looks handsome and proud as he lazes on the blanket you’ve laid out. a heart-shaped, brown wicker basket sits to the side filled with finger foods and other snacks, alongside a homemade pitcher of pineapple lemonade. you’ve pulled out all the stops. 
how he can look so smug while his ears burn bright pink is amazing to you. he’s cute. he’s sexy. he’s so chan. you’re going to keep him. 
“show me again, will you?” 
you’re propped up on your palms across from him, and you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully at his question. chan giggles quietly at you and reaches out to run a strong hand up your naked calf. 
it’s easy to do as you’re asked. you’d tease him a little more if your heart weren’t pounding so hard in your chest and butterflies weren’t fluttering in your belly, but you never can seem to help yourself when it comes to chan. 
your legs part on their own accord, falling open all namby-pamby while you shake your head to move your hair out of your face. the thin, yellow dress you're wearing bunches around your waist to give chan the perfect view of your bare cunt, glistening wet and sweet in the warm sunlight. 
chan sucks a heavy breath through his teeth that makes your stomach swoop, and his knobby fingers walk their way to where you’re petal pink and wanting. 
the first touch of his thumb to your clit has your back bowing. as soon as the touch is there though, it’s gone. chan sucks his thumb into his mouth and hums at your taste, but he’s quick to bring his now slick digit back to your pussy. this time it’s smoother, wetter, and your fingers clench themselves into the blanket below you. 
“look at that,” he breathes. you do, bringing a hand up to pull your dress taut to your skin so that you can see chan rubbing slowly at your puffy clit without interruption. 
“d’you like it?” 
it’s a bit of a silly question, but you want to hear him talk more. 
he was just happy to get out of the studio for a little while and relax with his favorite person, so you know he wasn’t expecting this lovely little surprise. 
“i really, really like it. look at your little clit, oh my gosh. you’re perfect, baby.” 
his voice is quiet, focused solely on touching you so good that your legs threaten to close. he bites his bottom lip to try and contain his smile, but he can’t when he notices how shaky your legs are already. keeping his thumb where it is, chan rolls to the side so he’s closer to your cunt. 
you’re not expecting him to lean in and take a long whiff of where you’re leaking for him, and you try to keep the embarrassed squeal that threatens to leave your lips at bay. 
“christopher!” you cry, and all he does is giggle when you pull the cap off his head and hit him with it. “you’re a freak!” 
“heh. yeah, maybe. ceebs though.” 
the breath gets knocked from your lungs when he leans in again, this time only to lave his tongue around his thumb that’s still rubbing slow circles on your clit. you’re so lucky you chose somewhere private to have your little lunch date, otherwise everyone within walking distance would hear the way you keen for him. 
you lean your weight back on your palm and use your other hand to spread the lips of your pussy for him. he pats your thigh in thanks, shaking his head to bury his mouth deeper in your warmth. 
“that’s- oh, that’s it. suck on it like that, channie, please!” 
not one to tease when he’s just as turned on as you are, chan sucks your clit into his mouth. he sucks rhythmically, batting his tongue against it every now and then so perfectly that it makes your hole clench in desperation. chan turns his head to the side, nose pressed flush against the crease of your thigh, and flicks his tongue against you quickly. 
“mhm?” his question is muffled. your fingers have tangled themselves in his hair; he knows. chan’s breath is hot against your pussy, and you can feel yourself dripping sweat due to the combination of the warm sunlight and the pleasure your man is giving you. 
“mhm,” you whine back. your ass clenches as you raise your hips to try and get closer to his face. his mouth is so good, his lips are so plump and his tongue is so deft that no matter how much he gives you, you can’t get enough. “baby. baby, channie. need- need your cock in me so bad.” 
you sound almost winded, but chan’s just as worked up as you are. his eyes were closed, and he had to blink several times to focus his gaze on your face. 
“right here?” he asks, still pressed flush against your cunt. 
it’s secluded enough. honestly though at this point, it wouldn’t really matter to you. you need him so bad you’d let him have you almost anywhere. 
you answer him by tugging the top of your sundress down so that your tits spill over the thin cotton of the cups. chan looks to your face in awe, grin ever growing. as if in sync, you both reach for your newly exposed nipples at the same time. chan sits up and pinches one of the perky little buds between his fingers while you tweak the other one. 
“you’ve got a little something…” your sentence trails off, but you move your hand away to point at the lower half of his face and draw your finger in a half-assed, messy circle. 
his lips and chin are soaked, wet with you and his own spit. chan just smiles, and his precious dimples appear again. 
“oh really? i wonder what from.” 
he lays you fully on the blanket and smooths down your hair so it doesn’t touch the grass. you swear your heart skips a beat when he gently combs at your hair with his knobby fingers. chan is so thoughtful, so kind all the time that you never fail to remember how blessed you are. 
the taste of you is still strong on his tongue when he leans down to kiss you. chan brackets your body with his, strong arms framing your shoulders while he kisses you deeply and wholly. chan has a profound way of making you feel small and taken care of by how he carries himself, and this is no exception. 
you’re wetting the fabric of his shorts. you can tell by the way you rock against each other while you kiss. thank god his wardrobe still consists of so much black, otherwise you’d have to make him carry the picnic basket in front of him when you leave later. 
“please give me your cock,” you breathe against his lips. 
chan licks teasingly at the swell of your bottom lip but doesn’t wait for further instructions before he tugs his shorts down far enough to free his aching cock and balls. his cock is flushed a deep pink, the head a ruddy purple. 
“yeah? inside? right out here in the open?” 
you tilt your hips up, and chan’s eyes lock onto yours as he sheaths himself slowly inside until he’s settled balls deep. 
“ffffuck, shit,” he hisses. “this fucking pussy.” 
“mmm, your cock,” you echo, and he noses at your hairline.
it doesn’t take long before the echoes of your little wilderness tryst become frantic and loud. chan coaxes wet sounds from your cunt like it’s all he’s good for, bullying his cock inside so deep you swear you feel it in your throat. 
“y’look really pretty in this dress, did’ya know that?” his breathless question has you nodding your head. yes, you know. you wanted to look pretty for him. “good. ‘s good, you’re so pretty. hold- hold it, hold it up, yeah?” 
he wants to see. the skirt of your dress has already been flipped up, but you gather it and hold it closer to your body so chan can watch himself fuck you. you take it a step farther and slip the tiny straps of the top down your arms so you can pull it further down your body. the dress is bunched in the middle of your stomach now, your bouncing tits and sopping cunt free for chan’s eyes to roam. 
his thrusts turn sharp, hard. you know he’s close.
“you’ll cum inside me? you should. i need it inside, okay?” 
chan grunts like he’s in pain, and you moan in response when his top lip curls in a snarl. your hands map his broad back underneath the cotton of his t-shirt, reveling in how slick and warm his skin is from the sun and exertion. 
“how much?”
“all of it! i need- need it all inside! ‘til i’m dripping, please!” you wail. chan presses sloppy kisses to your heaving chest as his hand snakes down to roughly rub at your clit. it’s like an electric shock, and you wrap your arms and legs around his sturdy body to keep yourself tethered to earth. tethered to him. 
chan’s cock throbs. his balls ache. you want him to stuff you full of his cum right here, and he wants to give it to you. 
“alright, alright- don’t- fuck! fuck, keep clenching. gonna cum for you then. you gonna take it? just like you wanted, yeah?” 
chan rocks forward sharply and stills flush against the heat of your cunt. his balls are so heavy, and they ache to empty themselves inside your warmth. chan cums in ropes inside just as you asked, groaning against the clammy skin of your chest.
“baby come on, come on. do it, i can feel you clenching. you want it so bad, baby. there. there, oh that’s it, huh? come for me, sweetheart.” 
you shudder underneath him as you cum on his cock and his fingers, and chan settles more of his body weight on you just like he knows you crave after an intense orgasm. he smooths his fingers over your throbbing clit until you kick your foot lightly at his ass to let him know you’re done. 
chan slowly lifts himself up and sits back on his heels. the trees around you block most of the sunlight now, but you have to shade your eyes so you can see what your boyfriend is up to. his softened cock slips from your cunt. 
“push it out, sweetheart.” 
you hum a little, giggling with glee as you contract your cunt and feel his sticky cum begin to ooze from your used hole. 
371 notes · View notes
wildestdreamsblog · 3 days
Text
Latibule Season 2: III
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)
Summary: In which he lost his latibule.
Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: As promised :) Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoy!
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GIF by urmingirl
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Masterlist, Latibule 2.II
Taehyung looked up from his cellphone to his eldest hyung that was currently cooking their dinner. He pouted when he was not given the appropriate amount of attention he should be given. Honestly, he deserved it! After a moment when he still did not get what he wanted, he finally asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.
“Hyung, is it always like that?”
“Hmm? Like what, Tae?” he asked while chopping diligently the vegetables the renowned doctor was preparing for a certain psychologist and his brothers that insisted they were hungry as well.
“When it ends…does it always hurt like that?”
Seokjin blinked at Taehyung’s unprompted question. He paused before he finally brought his eyes to the actor. He knew that the younger man had always been eccentric. His clinical condition definitely explained his behavior, but not this. He was never curious about the emotions he couldn’t feel, nor did he ever show any interest on understanding emotions. As the years passed by, Kim Taehyung got better at masking and pretending by learning the root causes of the emotions he could see. The brothers had always thought that this was precisely why he chose to be an actor. Everytime they watched him cried, laughed, or acted furious for his movies and dramas, they thought he was a different person.
Jin thought it was just understandable why he dropped the knife he was holding.
“What brought this on?”
“He-“ he lifted his mobile phone to show Jin the picture Jimin snapped of their Yoongi hyung looking like he had lost all his will to live. Taehyung found it so ridiculous that Jimin even made a collage of him and a cat that depicted their hyung. “-looks like breathing is a chore and is only fighting to live so he can end his enemies.”
Jin would have laughed had this happened before he met his sunshine. But now, the mere thought of her leaving set him on edge, and he knew he would be similar to Yoongi if not worse. Slowly, he picked up his knife as he carefully chose his words. He was always like this with Taehyung ever since he knew that something was not quite right in his mind, well…more than any of them, to be honest. The younger man took things at face value, and all the brothers knew to talk in a straightforward manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion on Taehyung’s part.
He kidded you not, once when they were still teenagers, they asked him to go ahead and get them a table in a restaurant. He left without any qualms only to return not an hour later carrying a big ass table from a restaurant. That was a horrifying memory, Jin thought, and that was when they all decided to change the way they talked. It was Namjoon that took it too far and enrolled the man in a body language class to better cope with society. However, it was Jungkook that forced him to take psychology classes with him for fun.
“I think it’s different,” Jin started, busying himself once again with cooking. “Yoongi never has love like that, I guess. It’s understandable that he acts like a sad lonely cat.”
Seokjin could still clearly remember how Yoongi looked at you. It was like you were all he ever wanted and more, like you were his reprieve from the darkness in his life. You were, as he called you, an angel to him. And then he lost you.
“Why?”
“Well…she’s his personal slice of heaven,” he answered, his voice contemplative and understanding of what Yoongi was going through. Jin paused in his chopping, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he carefully considered his words. “And he’s been living in hell the very moment he was born. What do you think would happen if he was given a taste of heaven and then lost it?”
“Just like Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung nodded, slightly understanding the downfall of these strong men.
“Seriously, you are all worse than the ahjummas who love to talk about other people’s lives. Be better than that, guys,” Kim Namjoon observed with his deadpanned voice as soon as he walked in the kitchen. He took in the scene of the two men conversing and the other man quietly eating the snack Jin prepared him.
Jin scoffed as he rolled his eyes at Namjoon. “As if you wouldn’t react like that when your secretary finally resigns.”
To which, Namjoon only smirked. “Who says she can leave?”
“How will you stop her and her son if the father finally shows up?”
Namjoon, with his hand in his pocket, calmly uttered words that no normal people would believe to have any other meaning. “Well, as you said, the dead don’t exactly come back to life, do they?”
 Jin chuckled at Namjoon. Of course, he did something about that man. It was apparent, he thought. He could still vividly remember the look in Namjoon’s eyes when he told him that his secretary was pregnant and that the asshole of a father even put his hands on her. Suffice to say, it was the most unhinged Namjoon ever was.
“I think Namjoon will be the worst among us if he ever loses the love of his life,” Jin noted with lightness in his voice.
“Nah,” Jungkook finally lifted his head from his bowl. “I sincerely think it’ll be Taehyung.”
The conversation never left Jeon Jungkook’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t need anyone to tell him to do this. He did this out of the bond he shared with his brothers. Had this happened to any among them, he would have done the same.
He thought that it was cruel to let them experience the same hell he had been living every single day.
And so, he worked tirelessly and utilized every available technology and connection he had just to look for Yoongi’s angel. When he said she was alive, when he said he felt in his heart that you could have not gone where he couldn’t follow, then he’d believed him. He wouldn’t lose anything by looking for you, Jungkook rationalized. But he didn’t want to unnecessarily get his brother’s hopes up until he had evidence that you were indeed alive.
One morning, it finally happened. There you were.
Jungkook’s eyes could not have gone any bigger as he watched the CCTV of a far province in his office.
That was you, he was sure.
Without a moment's hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialed the person he knew he could trust. "Hyung, can you come to my office?" he requested urgently, the excitement and disbelief evident in his voice.
“That’s her,” Kim Namjoon validated after a moment. He was standing beside Jungkook’s seated form as he leaned in the monitor. He was ever the image of calmness with his hand in his pocket, his suit immaculate and not a crease in sight.
Seokjin raised his brows as he sat in a relaxed manner on the couch. Jungkook didn’t even call him, yet he was here because he was, per his words, bored and that a certain sunshine was not where she should be. “So the dead can indeed come back to life,” he noted with a tone the two men couldn’t understand. “Pray tell, Namjoon-ah. Should we tell Yoongi?”
Jungkook blinked at the rising tension between the two men. Whereas Jin merely looked curious, Namjoon looked like he was looking at the end of the sword with the way his jaw was clenched. He stood up straight and took a second to answer Seokjin.
“Of course, hyung. This is a great news, after all.”
“Hmm,” Seokjin smirked, his legs crossed as though nothing could have fazed him. It was moment like this when Jungkook could see the mafia prince in his usually playful hyung. Everybody knew not to cross this man despite him appearing goofy and motherlike to them.
Jungkook thought that it would only take one momentous catastrophe for him to return to his dark persona. He didn’t want to see that, though.
“He’s suffered enough, right?” Jin asked the room with a light tone, yet his eyes pierced through Namjoon’s. “Right, Namjoon-ah?”
Seven Mississippis passed before he answered. Jungkook knew because he counted, and he hated the tension he didn’t know why was present.
“Jungkook, tell Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon ordered.
—-
Min Yoongi’s brows were pulled together as he walked in a bustling street of a faraway province. He had to drive almost four hours just because their maknae told him to be here at this exact hour, claiming that he desperately needed him to be there. However, Jungkook was not answering his phone despite numerous calls from him.
Where was even that little shit, Yoongi asked himself as he surveyed the whole place.  
Despite barely getting any sleep, he found himself in a situation where he might have to scold his youngest brother for the first time. He should have been in Seoul right now, but he couldn’t exactly say no to him. He had shit ton of things to do and yet he was indulging the youngest brother.
Maybe this was exactly why he was spoiled? Ah, but anyway, he was a good kid.
So where was he?!
He walked further into the thick of the plaza, his phone plastered in his ear as he listened to the annoying and incessant ringback tone of Jungkook. Seriously, at this day and age? His eyes roamed the area of happy locals, at which he rolled his eyes.
He was on the verge of deciding whether he should just go ahead and kill Jungkook when he finally answered.
“Where the fuck are you?” he growled over the other line, his patience running thin when the man just answered innocently.
“At Seoul, hyung-“
“Then why am I here?! I swear to heavens, if you made me drive here just to buy you a weird snack then I’ll really kill you!”
“Seokjin hyung will be mad!”
Right. The eldest was protective of the youngest. What a nuisance, he thought. “Then I’ll do it in secret.”
Jungkook chuckled nervously. He couldn’t place whether he was joking or not. His money was that if his hyung could get away with it, he’d be floating in the river at this very moment. “I asked you to go there because I have a surprise for you, hyung.”
“I don’t particularly enjoy surprises-” he began, but was swiftly interrupted.
“I know, I know. But this one, I’m sure you’ll like. This is the most beautiful, most precious, most amazing surprise ever. You’ll stop sulking and looking like a sad cat and Jimin hyung will finally stop taking badly captured and cropped photos of you and make it into a collage. Taehyung hyung will stop observing your miserable demeanor for his next movie. You’ll finally stop living like it’s such a chore and-“
His back was bumped by a force. Turning around, he prepared to glare at the perpetrator only to stop because there it was.
There was you.
It was as if the universe finally said that he had enough and stopped punishing him because he saw you when he was not even looking for you. Your mouth hanged agape, your hand going to your forehead as you murmured apologies to him.
He was stunted. No, he was bewildered.
Was this real? Or was this one of his cruel dreams again, a figment of his mind playing tricks on him?
But no.
He had been living in hell, yet moment he heard your voice, all the sufferings disappeared. This was really you. You were truly alive. He was frozen as his wildest dream was brought into life. His whole body went into a state of shock, something that he never thought could ever happen.
It didn’t really matter the years he spent without you because one touch, one word- these were all it took for him to forget the bitterness your separation brought him.
With a trembling voice, Yoongi dared to call for you. “Ange-”
But before he could say another word, you interrupted, your voice light and apologetic.
“I’m really sorry, mister. I didn’t see you,” you chuckled, slightly lifting your walking stick to explain the small accident. You bowed down at the man before going your way.
And he stood there, watching as the love of his life walked away from him, unseeing. He thought he could no longer hurt. He thought that nothing could have fazed him any longer. But he was wrong. Watching you walked, unseeing as you traversed the plaza with only your walking stick pained him.
How did this happen to you?
Was it because of the incident?
Was that why you couldn’t return to him? Because you weren’t able to?
Or did he miss all the glaring signs?
Slowly, he lifted the old phone you gifted him years ago to his ear. “You didn’t stop looking for her?”
Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “Well…I would never wish this hell on anyone, much less my brother,” he stated, his voice carrying a certain tone of sadness they often heard from him. “Go get her, hyung.”
The bustling city streets faded into a blur around you as you walked, your steps slow and deliberate despite the cacophony of noise that surrounded you. Your sight may have been almost gone, but your other senses seemed to have sharpened in response, each sound and scent painting a vivid picture in his mind.
You remembered that when you were younger, you read a passage from a book entitled, ‘The Song of Achilles’. You thought it was a well-written book, a love that transcended even death. There was a line your college friends always thought to be a masterpiece. But you never understood it. The line so many people loved never really touched you.
Until it did.
Until you understood each word written in that book.
“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”
Because right now, the words made sense. You could recognize him despite your deteriorating eyesight. You knew him. He was here. And he was following you…to what exactly? Was he here to end you? Was he here to make sure that you wouldn’t tell the world of his secret identity?
Regardless of the reason, you tried to remain calm as Hoseok always ordered you to. You had no choice but to lead him back home, otherwise you were sure that he would be suspicious. The man that you used to love was perceptive, and any suspicious movements could alert him. From the moment you opened the front door to the time you closed it, you knew you only had a couple of seconds.
You fished the phone Hoseok gave you, one with tactile buttons and controls that made it easier for you to use it. You knew you couldn’t use the speech-to-text feature, otherwise he’d hear. And so, with a tense movement, you sent a message to him.
He’s here. Don’t come home. Leave with my son.
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goldentimesarecoming · 16 hours
Text
Crying in front of the TF141 🫧☁️
Ghost: He heard your soft sniffles from your shared bedroom just as he was coming out of the bathroom after his intense workout. He rushed to you, afraid you hurt yourself.
Simon's eyebrows united in confusion as he saw you perfectly fine, just rubbing your wet eyes while staring at your phone.
"What's wrong, little love?"
You sobbed and showed him your phone. It was a TikTok of an old person having to put their older dog down so they suffer no more. "He had to put the doggy down," you cried.
Simon sighed as he took you into his arms. You were way too pure for this world, a complete contrast to someone like him.
🫧
Soap: You came home late, sore and exhausted after your shift. You leaned against the doors and slid down to sit at the floor, crying to yourself, letting all the frustration out.
You didn't know Johnny was home. And you didn't hear him coming to you, no matter how loud his footsteps were. "Lassie, are ye ok? Hurt? Talk to me." He bent down and eventually got on his knees to see eye to eye with you.
You shook your head and sobbed. Johnny took you into his arms, sat you down on his thighs and embraced you tightly, hiding you in his chest like a little kitten. "Don't cry, Bonnie, yer alright now." He kissed your forehead and rocked you back and forth; he loved to baby you whenever you were at your most vulnerable. You started to ramble about your boss yelling and insulting you all day long, due to him being stressed himself. You were short-staffed and there was a problem with the delivery of some goods and - and-
"M'eudail," he cooed at you. "Yer home with me now. Yer ok. I'll take care of the bastard for ye, don't ye worry yer pretty little head. I always take care of ye, don't I?"
He always does.
🫧
Gaz: Kyle always tries to make you laugh whenever he sees a singular tear threatening to spill down your cheek. Just like that one time you accidentally cut yourself when you were preparing dinner, and out of the pure shock, one or two tears streamed down your cheek. He came into the kitchen running (how he heard your little gasp from like two rooms away stays a mystery to this day). While he was pulling out some disinfectant spray and a band-aid, he said: "Hey, now you have something in common with the bread loaf!"
"What?" You sniffled, visibly confused.
"Now you know its pain of getting sliced!"
It made you stop in your tracks and chuckle through your tears, which was helpful to Kyle when he was about to disinfect the wound. After putting the band-aid over it, he kissed your nose and wiped your tears away. "Let me clean this up while you go and order some take-out for us, okay?"
🫧
Price: You're John's soft spot. He's careful about how he's speaking to you in certain situations. Mostly.
You two argue sometimes; not too much, only here and there. Once a year it may get out of hand, when you're both frustrated due to many external factors and one minor thing one of you did. That's when you or him explode, and when he does, he talks to you like he talks to his soldiers, like to his subordinates. Harshly, coldly, right to the point.
It hurts. It always leaves a sting in your heart. You stare at him quietly, your expression changing rapidly, as you let out a quiet sob. He realizes his mistake instantly and changes his tone on the spot. "Wait, darlin'-"
You're already on your way upstairs to your bedroom. He knows it's the best for you to cool off for a bit, before he goes and talks to you.
It was a mere dozen of minutes before walking upstairs and finding you sitting on the balcony, staring down at the street below numbly. A few crinkled up tissues were laying next to you and John sighed.
"Hey princess," he knocked on the balcony doors. "You got one more spot there?"
You moved to the side and before he sat down next to you, he laid down a plate with cut up fruit and a glass of water. "Eat and drink up for me, love. Can't have you dehydrated."
With your continued sulking, he took a deep breath and apologized softly. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. You're my darlin' wife, not one of the guys."
He outstretched his arms, giving you a choice to come and hug him or simply just accept his back rubs for now.
But who are you to reject an offer like that?
163 notes · View notes
hauntedchoso · 2 days
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GROUPIE LOVE *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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It’s so sweet swingin’ to the beat when I know that you’re doin’ it all for me…  How the JJK men fuck you after a show ft. [gojo, geto, toji, choso, & nanami] x [fem reader] nsfw warning. minors do not interact. cw: breeding in gojo’s, daddy kink, semi-exhibitionism, choking, degradation, name calling. established relationships in all despite the title! a/n: idk if I’m happy with this lol. i am certainly no writer and have NO plans to write regularly or even keep posting but this fic was born from my mini head cannon that choso looks like vinny mauro from motionless in white….the way vinny does his makeup for shows specifically reminds me of Choso’s blood marks and baggy red eyelids lol. mann I’m upset bc the header I made is shit :(
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Gojo is the singer. His icy white hair and electric blue eyes are quick to capture the hearts of his screaming fans—but those eyes only search for one person in the crowd. Your heart skipped a beat the moment he stepped onto the stage, and when he finally sees you, he flashes you that award-winning smile, bringing the mic up to his perfect lips. “How are we doing tonight, everyone? We’re going to play a song we’ve never performed live before…”
His presence was magnetic, attracting the attention of hundreds of screaming girls as he sang romantic melodies into the mic. You watched his Adam’s apple bob with each word and the way the veins on his hand stuck out as he clutched the mic tightly. Every lyric he sang told a story, and you knew better than all the other girls in the room—he was telling your story. The story of your sweet nights together, the nights you spent gazing into a sea of cerulean blue behind white eyelashes while basking in Gojo’s presence and the beauty of his voice. It was absolutely beautiful, the sweet vibrato’s and clear pitches that escaped his lips as he serenaded his crowd—but it didn’t compare to the beauty of his voice when he was underneath you. 
“Fuck, baby—just like that…haah, god damn. You’re so damn tight,” he moaned, unable to keep up with the way your ass slammed down on his thighs. The harder you rode him, the more undone he became underneath you—such a stark contrast to the confidence he always held when he took the stage. His long, pretty cock stroked against your gummy walls, his mushroom head grazing your g-spot when you raised yourself high enough, driving you crazy. 
“Satoru,” you mewl, absolutely loving the way his hands grip your thighs for dear life. You guys didn’t have much time; it would only be a few minutes before the rest of the guys returned to the tour bus, where you were holding Gojo as your hostage on the bench-couch in the small kitchenette. You ignored the burning in your muscles as you urged yourself to go faster, not giving him a chance to run away as you brought yourself down repeatedly on his warm cock that was throbbing so deliciously inside your clenching cunt. “Cum in me, daddy, I need it—“
“You better fucking watch it,” he moaned through clenched teeth, frustration seeping into his tone, the grip on your left thigh becoming harder. He couldn’t control how his cock throbbed inside you when he heard the word daddy, and it didn’t help that your luscious tits were bouncing so beautifully in his face. If you weren’t moving so fast, he’d have a nipple in his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around it. Quickly becoming overwhelmed by the way your tight cunt clenched around his raw dick, he squeezed his eyes shut, silently willing himself to last longer than he knew he would. He knew you weren’t on birth control, and if you continued to call him daddy in such a slutty tone…well, you’d probably make him a daddy. 
His frustration only egged you on more. “I want your cum in me so bad…haah, please…I’m such a little slut for you, daddy. Don’t you wanna fill me with your seed—“
Before you could process what was happening, Gojo had your back flat against the couch, nudging your thighs back apart as he slid himself inside you again, a hand wrapped tightly around your throat. “You want my cum, you fucking slut? Want me to breed you like a bitch in heat? Fine, you better lay there and take everything I give you.”
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Geto is the guitarist. The way his gorgeous black hair falls around his face as he slings his guitar strap over his shoulder is mesmerizing. His gauged ears are sporting their usual shiny black plugs, which catch the stage lights with each turn of his head. You watch from the side of the stage, hidden from the view of his fans, as his fingers pluck his lucky guitar pick out from between his perfect teeth, bringing the pick down to play a warm-up riff. He gives you one last sly smile, and a sweet, sexy wink before he starts the opening riff to their first song. 
He played his guitar like it was an extension of himself. You watched as his palm slid up and down the instrument’s neck as he followed along to the score, making hundreds of screaming girls howl as he paused and swung it harshly to his right side, flipping it over his neck and catching it again. There was something different about hearing him play the same riffs on stage that he would practice with in the comforts of your shared bedroom, lounging lazily in your queen-sized bed as you close your eyes to the quiet strumming. No, hearing it on a stage was way more exhilarating—he might have thousands of fans in front of him, but you know he’s only playing for you. Watching his long, beautiful, skilled fingers tap away at the neck of the guitar, eliciting different melodic tones and notes when he strums gently. It almost reminds you of the noises his fingers elicit out of you. 
“You’re so fucking wet, baby. Is this all for me?” He purrs into your ear. The same hand that was gently choking you was also keeping your back pinned to the wall as his other hand, shoved deep past the waistband of your skinny jeans, toyed with your weeping folds and rubbed gently against your clit.  He smiles down at his lucky guitar pick resting comfortably in your cleavage, loving the way the lacy shirt he bought you accentuates your beautiful body. 
“You looked so fucking hot on stage tonight….” You manage to whine out. Your heart was racing out of your chest, eyes darting all around the room that today’s venue designated as the band’s dressing room. A music tech, security guard, or even one of Geto’s band mates could barge in at any given moment, but his fingers were relentless as they slipped into your core. 
Your eyes rolled back as you felt your pussy welcome in his digits and clench around them. The hand around your neck slid up to your jaw, gripping your face and turning you to face him again. “Yeah? If I’m so hot, why are you looking away from me, pretty girl? My eyes are right here.”
He emphasized his words by curling his fingers against your g-spot, cutting off your mewls of pleasure with his lips and immediately sliding his tongue inside. You were so drunk, so intoxicated by his lips that you felt your eyes rolling back again before shutting and moaning into the kiss; a kiss that was way too short-lived. “Just one, baby. Cum for me just once, and I’ll dick you down the way your little cunt desperately needs it.”
You complied, reverting all your focus to his fingers until you finally came all over them with a loud, slutty moan. 
He whipped you around almost immediately, pressing your chest to the wall, pulling your hips out, yanking your pants down and unzipping his own before slapping his hard cock on your ass. “Say please, baby,” he whispers in your ear, taking note of the way you press your ass eagerly against him. 
“Please, daddy. I want you to fuck me so bad—!”
And before you could even finish your sentence, Geto was pushing into your warm pussy, using small, gentle thrusts to ease himself in until he was bottomed out. You could feel your walls sucking his hard cock in when his thrusts became deeper; sharp, percussive moans leaving your mouth with each slap of his hips against your ass. His pace was fast and mean, and you were completely enamored with the feeling of his balls slapping your clit. 
“Suguru—!” You could feel your orgasm approaching, your walls contracting and clenching around his pulsing cock, but that only made him go faster. 
“Dirty little slut. You love when I use you like this, don’t you, angel? Taking my cock like the sweet little slut you are…haah. Letting me use my pussy the way I want, wherever I want…”
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Toji is the bassist. The long-necked guitar always looked so small and draped so beautifully across his large, muscular frame whenever he played—so different than the way it looked against your naked body on those nights he was in the mood to snap some photos of both of his beauties. His eyes met yours under the black fringe of his bangs, the scarred side of his mouth curling up into a smirk as his fingers found each string and plucked. 
You watched as his fingers danced across the four strings, mindlessly plucking at the four strings, amazed at the way the colorful stage lights were gracing his face and muscular arms. His bass lines were so effortless; he didn’t even need to look down at his hands while he played. His eyes would instead scan the crowd, casting uninterested glances at all the fans screaming his name, and occasionally coming back to meet your own, always accompanied by the sweetest, sexiest grin that reminded you that he was yours. The deep notes that harmonized with Geto’s guitar reverberated off the walls of the concert hall; they shook the speakers, the shook the barriers, they shook your core. But his deep bass lines were no match for how deep his cock always reached inside you. 
“Toji! Ah—fuck!” You choked out, tears streaming down your face as the tip of his cock repeatedly mashed against your cervix. “I’m gonna cum! Ah—please! Daddy! I’m really gonna cum!” You warned. 
“Yeah? Fucking cum then, slut. I’m not fucking this cunt for nothing.”
When Toji invited you to shower with him after the show, you weren’t expecting him to shove you against the shower wall and fuck you like a wild animal from behind as soon as the water hit your hair. While your showers together always ended in you two fucking, you never thought he’d choose a place so public, a place that puts you both at risk of being heard by your closest friends. This seemed to be the last thing on Toji’s mind as he continues to bully his mean cock into your aching pussy. His eyes remained on your ass, watching his cock pistoning in and out of you while your plump cheeks jiggled with each mean thrust. He knew you got loud when you came, and while it was something you were trying to suppress in order to save face from any of his band mates or techs that might be lingering around outside the bathrooms, it was his one and only goal. 
And you did. As soon as he reached his hand down to rub your sensitive clit, you clenched hard on his throbbing cock. Your back arched deeply against him as you squirted hard against the shower wall, a loud squeal leaving your lips. 
He grabs your wet hair, turning your head to the side so he can silence you with a bruising kiss. “Gonna do it again, mama? Gonna cum all over my cock again?” He whispers evilly against your ear once he pulls away, quickening his pace. His hips slap hard against the globes of your ass, the loud clap clap clap echoing off of the insulated shower walls. 
“Y-yes, daddy, I wanna cum again—“ your words were cut off when he slid two fingers into your mouth, groaning when you bite down on them. 
His thrusts were unforgiving, pulling out far enough so that his fat mushroom head pressed harshly against your g-spot when he thrusted forward and hit your cervix. You were so cockdrunk, Toji could sense your oncoming second orgasm before you could by the way your walls were clenching down so hard on him. Before you knew it, you were squirting again, this time pulling a louder, sluttier squeal from your lungs. 
“Good girl,” he praises, a wide smile spread across his face as he continued to pound you into overstimulation. “Music to my fucking ears.”
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Choso is the drummer. You loved the way those spiked pigtails bounced in the wind as he head banged along to the loud thumping of his drums. His chocolate brown eyes would occasionally meet yours through the band’s set, peaking brightly above the black stripe across his nose, the purple stage lights reflecting across his irises. During the bridge of a particularly romantic song, he cast his gaze towards where you stood side-stage. With a drumstick tipped in your direction, he made sure your eyes were on him as he shot you a wink before his drum solo, as if to say, “this one’s for you.”
Choso pounded on his drums as if he hated them, shaking the stage and speakers so intensely with his mean percussion that you could feel your throat vibrate. You didn’t care what anyone said, Choso controls the show; he counts everyone in, he sets the tempo, he decides how hard his band plays by how he wants to play—and boy, does he play hard. He was often breaking his sticks and putting dents in his drumheads, going through countless numbers of each with every tour he went on. Everything about Choso was hard—the way he plays, his toned muscles, his thick cock, the way he fucks you. 
“Ch-Choso! Haah…h-oh my god, you’re so-!” Your hands clutched at everything they could grab so that you could hold on for dear life—the cymbals, the casings on the side of the drums, the drum stands themselves—but to no avail. “Fuck, you’re so deep!”
Choso snickered at your pathetic attempts to stabilize yourself, the sight only driving his hips against your ass even harder. He had you bent over his drum set, the harsh slaps of your skin-on-skin contact echoing throughout the empty concert hall. He purposely made sure to leave his drums on stage as he helped tear down the rest of the set, waited until his band mates disappeared, and ushered every tech, security guard, and janitor out before he stalked and captured his prey, dragging you back to his den. “Don’t run from my cock now, princess. Isn’t this what you wanted? You were giving me slutty bedroom eyes throughout the whole show.”
He paused his violent thrusts for a moment, driving his hips backward to slowly brush the tip of his cock against your g-spot. He marveled at the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around him as he teased your sopping wet core. 
“Yes, baby…” you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious stimulation. 
His hips jerked forward, meeting your ass with a singular mean thrust. “I’m sorry?”
You yelp at the sudden jolt of pain and pleasure, eyes snapping wide open as his fingers dig deeper into your hips. “Daddy! Yes, daddy! I want you! Please!” you babble desperately. 
Choso gave your ass one harsh smack before pounding into you again, settling on an unforgiving pace. He loved fucking you hard. Your walls always clenched him so tight, and he loved your cute little squeals you’d let out whenever his cock kissed your cervix. He loved how hard you always came from it, too—it only made him want to fuck you impossibly harder and deeper. His balls slapped against your clit with each thrust, and he admired the way your ass jiggled each time he slammed against it. The sound of him fucking you created its own erotic percussion that you both somehow loved more than the actual sound of his drums. 
“I’ma cum, ohmygod! Ch-Choso…daddy, fuck! I’m cumming!” You whine, unable to focus your gaze as fat tears blur your vision and spill down your face. 
“Good girl. Cum for me, pretty baby,” he moans, rubbing your clit in gentle praise as you spasm all over his throbbing length. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all fucked out and dumb on my cock.”
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Nanami is the manager. His blond hair was always combed into a perfect style, and his soft, brown eyes focused on his surroundings as he effortlessly orchestrated the commotion around him. There was a certain calmness that surrounded him as he guided the band through every moment of post-concert teardown. Every once in a while, his eyes would land on you, where you sat quietly on one of the speaker cases backstage, ignoring his gaze with a small pout across your lips. 
The guys in the band would sometimes get a little too crazy after shows or on days off, and they have proved time and time again that they needed someone to keep them in check. Whether it’s passing out drunk outside of local bars, damaging and losing their gear, showing up late to sound checks, or simply being divas with attitude, Nanami swore that he was in charge of a bunch of children, and that you—his perfect girl—were the only one who could do no wrong. Even on nights like tonight, when you were upset with him for reasons that were beyond him, he was happy to pull you aside and get you in check as well.
His lips were on yours, tongue swirling around your mouth as he drank in your moans with fervor. His fingers laced through your hair, resting against the back of your head and using that placement to press your lips more firmly against his as his other hand pressed you against his body. He breaks the kiss for a moment to suck small hickies into your neck. 
“What’s got you so worked up tonight, my angel?” He murmurs against your neck, his hot breath sending goosebumps down the length of your spine. “I let you ignore me all evening, but you can’t hide from me now.”
“Kento…what-what about the guys?” You ask innocently, a small gasp leaving your lips as his teeth nip the skin over your pulse point rather hard. 
“Let’s see; Suguru’s in the dressing room, Toji and his woman are putting on a second concert in the shower, pretty sure I saw Satoru sneak onto the bus…” Nanami uses a finger to tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting his, “and Choso’s slutting himself out on stage. Where does that leave me to take my girl, hmm?”
Before you could even answer, he’s kissing you again, whisking you through a side door that exits outside behind the concert venue. Your eyes snap open as you feel a sudden breeze hit your skin, causing you to break the kiss. 
“Out here? But-“
He silences you with a hand to your throat. “Yes, pretty girl. Out here. Now tell me what you need, okay?”
Your eyebrows pinched in frustration. His strong hand choking you only aroused your needy cunt. You were supposed to be upset with him for being too busy for you that day, but the sultry tone in his voice was making you horny. 
“I need you…please, daddy. I missed you so much today. I need you to fuck me so bad.”
And before you know it, he has your feet off the ground, legs wrapped around his hips and your back against the hard brick wall as he bullies his cock into your cunt relentlessly. Your moans echo into the night sky, surely being heard by anyone lingering outside the nearby bars and restaurants as Nanami’s balls make harsh contact with your ass with each unforgiving thrust. “You like being a brat? Hm? Knowing daddy will fuck you nice and hard? I didn’t know my perfect girl was such a needy little slut.”
“Yes—yes! Right there, daddy!” You cry, pure ecstasy making your legs shake as his fat, veiny cock brushes the inside of your walls. “Haah—nnggh fuck, I’ma cum…” you slur, drool escaping from the corner of your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head. 
“That’s right, princess—give it to me. Give me everything. You like when I fuck you dumb, don’t you, baby? You’re so cute when you’re being a brat. Next time, though, I won’t be as gentle.”
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BONUS FOR MY METALCORE GIRLIES
gojo's vocals / geto's riffs / toji's basslines / choso's drumming
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a/n: i probably won’t post again lol. 
197 notes · View notes
street-smarts00 · 10 hours
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Clingy
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)
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WC: 3.5k (ish)
Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 
Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort
A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.
You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 
After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 
At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.
Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 
It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 
Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 
You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 
When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 
Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 
He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 
You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 
He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 
“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 
He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 
“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”
“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.
“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 
“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 
“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 
His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.
“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 
“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 
“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 
“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 
“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 
Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 
Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 
Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 
“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 
“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 
Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.
“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 
Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 
He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 
The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 
Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 
He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 
Something about you.
His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 
~
Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 
The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  
Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 
“Hey,” you greeted. 
“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 
“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 
“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.
He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 
“Huh?” 
“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 
“Oh.” 
“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 
You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 
“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 
The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 
You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 
He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 
He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 
“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 
“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 
“Do you wanna lie down?” 
You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 
“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 
His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 
“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 
You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 
You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 
“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 
You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 
He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 
So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 
He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 
He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 
“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 
“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 
You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 
This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 
“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 
He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“
“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 
You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 
“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 
He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  
“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 
You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 
“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 
“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 
His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 
“Yes you were.” 
“Y/N please,” he begged. 
“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 
He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 
“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 
“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 
“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 
You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 
“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 
He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 
“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”
 Here we go. Flood gates. 
“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 
“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 
“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 
The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 
“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”
He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 
Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 
He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 
When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 
Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 
The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”
“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 
“That too,” he chuckles. 
After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 
“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 
Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.
“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 
He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”
His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 
There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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thepixelelf · 3 days
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and the universe said,
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07 - "bro, chill"
genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery relationship(s): ot13 x reader chapter warnings: coarse language. kithing. a liiitle svt on svt violence note: ik it's been a long time please be nice to me <3 (this isn't edited... I'll take a look at it when I have the time)
When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren’t – and that’s before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.
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“Where are they?” Myungjun asks as soon as Jihoon and Junhui enter the room they agreed upon.
Junhui braces both of his arms on the back of a chair. “What do you mean?”
“Your soulmate—” Cutting himself off with a sigh, Myungjun pinches the bridge of his nose and answers his own question. “You didn’t bring them.”
Yejung, who was sitting at a table with her laptop, shuts it with a frown. “Why not?”
Junhui shrugs. “I’m just here because Jihoon dragged me out.” He shifts between looking at the three other people in the room. “You guys know I just met my soulmate, right? I don’t like not having them here with me, either.”
“Well then why didn’t you—”
“They don’t know.” Jihoon cuts off Myungjun’s words, then pulls out a chair and drops himself in it. He stares at a random spot on the table. When he doesn’t elaborate any further, Yejung sends a furtive glance Myungjun’s way.
“Don’t know…” She leans her forearms on the table and scoots her chair closer. “...what? That you’re their soulmate? That there’s more than one of you? That you’re famous?”
Junhui snorts. “All of the above?”
At Junhui's quip and Jihoon's continued silence, Myungjun raises a cynical brow.
"You didn't tell them?" Yejung asks, softly shocked. "Why?"
Junhui's eyes skirt to Jihoon; he's unwilling to share his own reasons, though he doesn't quite understand this about himself, either.
Jihoon sighs. "I don't know. It's complicated. Things happened too fast the first time we—"
"The first time?" Myungjun echoes. "So you've been with them multiple times."
“Don’t say it like that.” Jihoon almost pouts, but the facial expression just makes him look angry. “Look. I ran into them when the vocal team was on the way to that radio show. We’d stopped by a cafe and there wasn’t much time and I was so out of my mind that I—” He cuts himself off. “It doesn’t matter. I got their number, and then they left. I asked to meet today and we did. Jun was already there for…” With his arms crossed, Jihoon looks over at Junhui, remembering that he still doesn’t really know what Junhui was doing at the same cafe you apparently frequent. Is this the same cat cafe Junhui is always talking about? “…some reason. Then someone started singing, and they told us their soulmate is stupid and annoying because their mark…”
“It’s not like ours,” Junhui finishes for Jihoon, though this only deepens the confusion written on Yejung and Myungjun’s faces.
“If it's not like yours, then how do you know they're your—”
“It's them, Hyung.” Jihoon can't help noticing the hopelessness in his own voice. It's you. He knows it's you.
But you don't know it's them— him.
And he's not sure you want to know.
“Their mark, like, grows,” Junhui explains. “Ours just stay on our hands, but when one of us sings, the notes go all over their arms and neck. Maybe other places — I don’t know — but they obviously don’t think it’s either of us since we weren’t singing when their mark did its thing.”
“So…” Myungjun crosses his arms and taps his finger on his bicep. “They don't like their mark.”
Junhui doesn't nod right away, but he does eventually.
Myungjun turns to Jihoon. “And you think that means they don't like you.”
Groaning and rubbing his hands over his face, Jihoon doesn't dignify that with a response. “Even if they did like their mark, it’s an insane situation. Thirteen soulmates? They’re gonna run for the hills when they find out.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” Yejung says, to which Jihoon gives her a dry look and Junhui’s eyes light up. She clears her throat. “We just need to find a way to calmly inform them of the situation — preferably in a safe, comfortable environment.”
Myungjun recognizes a Yejung Game Plan brewing when he sees it. “Basically, what she’s saying is…”
“Let me talk to them.” Yejung opens her laptop again and begins typing away. “We just need to go about this in a calm, logical manner.” She gives a little nonchalant wave of her hand. “This’ll be easier than a design meeting.”
You’re sitting on the floor of your apartment, arms crossed, legs too, as you stare down at the shiny black credit card lying there between you and Heejun. His position mirrors yours, head tilted while he studies the card.
“It could be fake,” you say. Your knee bounces up and down, up and down.
Heejun lifts his head to give you a look. “Why would it be fake?”
“He said he doesn’t believe in banks.”
“It doesn’t look fake.” Heejun reaches out and takes the card, flipping it over in his fingers to read the back. “Looks like any other credit card. We should test it.”
You frown. “How?”
“Uh,” Heejun speaks like the answer is obvious. “Buy something?”
Okay, it is obvious, but the idea doesn’t sit too well with you. “Isn’t that stealing?”
“He gave you the card.”
“Yeah, but the police don’t know that,” you argue. “If I got charged for fraud, it would be his word against mine— no one would believe coffee guy just handed me his black card.”
Without moving his head, Heejun glances up from the card to look at you. "Why would he lie?"
"Um, because he already has? Who knows— maybe this card is connected to illicit activities and he planted it on me to implicate me."
“Which he would do because…?”
You throw your hands up in the air, then let them drop emphatically at your side. “I don’t know! Why did he do any of what he did?”
He raises a brow. “Because he’s a weirdo who likes you?”
“Okay but have you ever given your credit card to a person you’ve only met twice?”
Heejun’s shoulders rise in a shrug. “I’ve wanted to.”
“Seriously?” You can’t imagine your friend going that gaga over a crush, but then again, there was that girl in fourth grade whom he gave all his choco pies to. Heejun loves choco pies.
“Mine would decline though. It wouldn’t exactly impress.”
You lightly shove his shoulder. “Oh come on, it wouldn’t decline.”
“It would if they went over the limit. People only give people their credit cards for expensive stuff. You know that, right?”
The black card gleams up at you, almost tauntingly.
“Expensive stuff like what?”
He shrugs again. “Like a car?”
“You’ve been watching too many CEO dramas.” You exhale and place both hands on the floor with a pointed slam. Standing, you pick the credit card up and brush imaginary dirt off your pants.
“You won’t be so sarcastic when Park Seojoon tells you to keep that thing.”
You roll your eyes as you toss the card into the same trinket dish you keep your keys and other miscellaneous things in. “Isn’t that guy like six foot?”
“So was Huijun,” he counters.
“So are you. Is that all it takes to be a CEO nowadays?” you joke, pulling out your phone. “Height?”
Heejun scoffs, then frames his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “That and my devilish good looks.”
“Please.” You tap on a notification from an unknown number. “If that were true, you’d be the one handing out black…cards…”
At the way you trail off, Heejun furrows his brow and walks over to you. “What’s up? Did you fall for another online scam?”
Not this again. “Okay, first of all, that was not a scam, and I did not fall for it—”
“You didn’t fall for a not scam?”
“Shut up. What do you think this means?” You turn your phone towards him, and he takes it from your unsteady hand.
He reads aloud. “‘Hello, this is Shin Yejung of Pledis Entertainment.’ Did you apply there?”
“No,” you say, then shake your head and wave your hand. “I mean. I don’t know. Maybe. I applied to like five hundred places. But this isn’t that. Keep reading.”
Heejun takes a breath and starts reading like he’s holding a new edict. “‘It has come to my attention that you are in possession of one of my coworker’s bank cards.’ Oooooh, you’re in trouble.” He drags out the last syllable. “‘Please meet me at…’ whatever building, numbers numbers numbers… ‘so I can retrieve it. Please reply to this number for more information, and thank you for your time.’ Hm.”
“What do you think… am I getting arrested?”
Lowering your phone, Heejun gives you a seriously? look over it. “The cops are texting criminals now?”
“So you agree I’m a criminal.”
“You get annoying when you’re nervous, you know that?” When you roll your eyes, Heejun mirrors the expression and pokes your forehead long enough that he pushes you backward. “Look bub, you wanted to give the stupid thing back without using it, and now the opportunity has been handed right to you.” He waves your phone in the air like evidence. “The only question is why coffee guy didn’t just text you himself.”
You cross your arms. “Maybe he doesn’t like me as much as you thought.”
“One more self-deprecating comment out of you and I’m posting those pictures from your twentieth birthday.”
A gasp wrenches from your throat. “You wouldn’t!”
Joshua Hong doesn’t think he has that many unread messages on his phone.
He looks down.
Oof. 682.
Well, it’s not his worst.
Notifications fly by at the top of his screen.
[vernon] where is this guy
[chan] hyung this is important!!
[wonwoo] when have we known that guy to answer anything
[soonyoung] someone text yejung!!
It’s probably not that important, whoever they’re talking about. His members are likely just freaking out over this whole soulmate thing again.
Joshua lifts his hand and stares at his weird, natural — supernatural — tattoo. He still can’t bring himself to believe it.
Soulmates? Really? In this economy? This isn’t Tumblr.
At least… Joshua looks around the dance practice room… He’s pretty sure this isn’t Tumblr.
His phone rings, which is weird since he always has it on silent. Sliding the answer button, he brings the phone up to his ear. “Yejung?”
“Where are you?”
“The practice room,” Joshua answers plainly. “Isn’t this where we’re supposed to be today?”
Yejung sighs on the other end of the line. “I said in the group chat that we were dealing with soulmate stuff. Upstairs.”
Ah, so that’s what has everyone in a tizzy. “Alright, okay. Where am I going?”
“Room eight-thirteen—” He hangs up and starts to pack his things before Yejung can say, “Wait, no, nine-thirteen. We'll start when you arrive. Joshua? Hello?”
You check your phone for what must be upwards of the fifth time.
Yup, Shin Yejung of Pledis Entertainment definitely told you to meet her in room 813, and yet here you are. In room 813. Alone.
You shift on the leather couch. It’s a lounge-like room you’re in. You don’t really understand the purpose of such a room in an entertainment company, but whatever. You’re only here to return something you never should’ve had in the first place.
Although…
You turn the card over in your hand, watching the way the fancy lighting bounces off of it.
Why would Jihoon give it to you if he was just going to get it back like this?
Also, now that you really think about it, Jihoon did say something weird when he left yesterday with Huijun. Something about not letting “the rest” scare you off. Whatever that means.
The rest of what?
Or… whom?
You know Jihoon must work for the company in some capacity. The fact that both he and Huijun were wearing masks makes you think they could be artists…
Oh. Duh. Why didn’t you think of this earlier?
Switching apps, you tap the search bar and start typing. Just as you’re done with the last character of Jihoon HYBE, the door you entered through opens. You hastily slip your phone into your back pocket as you stand to greet the person coming in.
“Hello, you must be…” Your eyes scan over his face. He’s… delicate looking, until you move your gaze downwards a little, and his broad shoulders and thick arms are decidedly not delicate looking. “…Shin Yejung?”
You tilt your head. With no mask on the lower half of his face, he seems familiar. Now this guy must be an idol — you probably saw him on the walls when you were making your way through this maze of a building. 
He just raises a brow. “Who are you?”
“Oh, uh…” You stay standing in front of the couch as he approaches you, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m just here to return this.” Lifting the black card up, you hold it out between you and the man. “It’s Jihoon’s.”
“Jihoon’s?” he echoes, then moves to take the card from you, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. 
You both see it at the same time.
His mark, five black lines, clear as day.
Yours, peeking out from where your sleeve is pulled halfway up your hand.
You look up from your not-really-joined hands, then look down again.
No fucking way. 
“Twinkle twinkle, little—” The notes, whatever they are, dance across his mark.
No fucking way. 
You meet his eyes. “...Songbird?”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. A few too many seconds.
Then, “So it’s you.”
“Holy—!”
At the same time as you try to jerk away, he attempts to turn your hand over and get a better look. Neither plan really works out. You stumble backwards, and with your hand in his, he gets pulled down with you onto the couch. His free hand shoots out to keep himself from slamming into you, but, persistent as the universe is, your faces end up very freaking close to each other anyway. Warmth from his knee on the couch cushion next to your thigh seeps through your clothing.
He doesn’t move. You don’t either.
For some reason, you feel stuck in place. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but… you just feel like you should be exactly where you are.
You’re almost too close to make real eye contact, so you just watch the way his eyes study yours.
“Songbird?” you whisper, though you have no idea what you’re trying to ask.
He stops analyzing you and finally looks at you. “Yeah?”
“…Are you leaning towards me on purpose?”
His lips (since when were you looking at those?) curl down at the corners. “Are you?”
Slowly, like your mind is trying to catch up to your body, you shake your head. “No…”
He drifts closer. Or you do. Or you both do.
Or something.
Your lips brush over his, and your feel just as much as you hear him whisper. “Then neither am I.”
In the span of a second, his free hand moves from the back of the couch to cradle your jaw, his thumb grazing gently just under your ear. He kisses you, lips moving over yours in a way you’ve felt before, but also in a way you’ve never felt before.
It’s strange.
Not bad strange, but strange in the way that it feels like you’ve just put the last of the groceries in the fridge. It’s like folding that final piece of laundry. Like coming home to the bed you made when you left in the morning.
It’s… satisfactory?
But that’s not the word people normally use when they think of putting their tongue in someone else’s mouth, right?
You’re running out of breath, but Songbird is insistent, and so are his lips, which you find yourself unable to get enough of. He pulls back for half a breath, registers your kiss me again or so help me facial expression, and dives right back in. He’s kissing you and you’re kissing him and you’re soulmates and…
Wait.
Soulmates?
“Wait,” you say, though it comes out more like, “Mmaem” Climbing both your hands up his — whoa — strong arms, you cup his cheeks in preparation to push him away, but he seems to like your touch. He covers the back of one of your hands with his warm palm, and he hums in a way that is not PG-13.
The sound has you melting, unfortunately.
Not for long though.
He’s ripped from you just as quickly as he fell onto you, pulled back by some guy with fluffy black hair, cozy attire head to toe, and… shit, a you’re in trouble glare the likes of which you’ve never seen before. He’s not even looking at you, yet you feel scolded.
“Yah!” he yells at your soulmate, who’s now on the floor. Then, after glancing at you for half a second and apparently finding zero more words to say, he shouts at him again. “Yah!”
Your soulmate opens his mouth, but then he turns to look at the now-open door, which leads you to do the same. A mob of prettyboys stands just outside, some with their jaws dropped and some looking like murder just got legalized and they’re on the prowl.
Someone’s despondent voice shouts, “Hyung!”
You feel like hiding under a blanket. Before your flight instinct kicks in, though, you recognize two familiar faces. “Jihoon?” His eyes meet yours when you say his name. “Huijun?”
One of the many boys among those you don't recognize echoes, “Huijun?” while sending him a weird look.
Someone pushes through the crowd — more like slinks through, occasionally nudging one of the other guys out of the way. His eyes stay firmly on you as he approaches, but you find no fear rising despite that. For some unknown reason, even as this completely unfamiliar man strides over to you with a frankly alarming amount of eye contact, you feel… safe.
Or at least, something close to it.
He kneels in front of where you're still seated on the leather couch, hand resting mere centimetres from leg. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice slightly nasal, but so, so gentle. 
“Uhh…” Self conscious, you wipe at the corner of your mouth with your sleeve. You spot your soulmate catch you doing so, and a look of hurt crosses his face. His own reaction, though, seems to startle him, and his hand rises to gently prod his shiny bottom lip with one of his fingers. He looks confused.
Well, that makes two of you.
Taking in the man right in front of you — pretty, lithe, concerned for you despite his unfamiliarity — you fail to answer his question. “Are… you Shin Yejung?”
He lets out a laugh, relieved, maybe, that you're not not okay. “Jeonghan,” he says simply.
You nod. “Jeonghan.”
At your voice echoing his name, the man’s eyes light up. “Yes?”
“Oh, uh…” You weren’t trying to call on him for anything, but as you study his gaze, you find yourself lost in his confident ease. Something in his eyes says that he knew this would happen.
Maybe not this, exactly — your soulmate has found a spot on the floor and has not stopped staring at it, while the rest of the strangers are still watching you — but taking up the same space as you, facing you, smiling at you with a soft quirk at the corners of his lips.
“Ugh!” A woman’s exasperated voice makes you look up at the crowd by the door. “Get— out of the way, you… ugh—” She breaks through, pushing aside a tall guy who looks like he’s about to cry. “—you men!”
Stumbling to her feet, she rights herself and brushes her bangs out of her face with a huff. “Now, what is—” She spots your soulmate still on his ass and mutters something you’re pretty sure can’t be aired on any broadcasting network. “...my life.”
Your eyes meet hers as she takes another breath. “Please tell me you’re Shin Yejung.”
“Yes, we spoke over the phone.”
“Thank god.” Shaking off all the weird feelings you’d accumulated in the last — what? Two minutes? — you stand from the couch and sidestep Jeonghan. The black card fell at some point during that lapse of judgement (aka kiss), so you swipe it up off the floor and hold it out to her with no preamble. “I swear I’m not a stalker fan or anything. And I didn’t use it, so…”
You glance over at Jihoon, whose expression gives off an oncoming panic. Is he scared to see you? Why? Huijun looks just fine, happy even, with you here. You can practically hear the ‘hello’ he wants to say out loud.
You clear your throat. “Anyway, um. I didn’t mean to, uh…” As you nervously cross your arms, you nod towards your soulmate. “I’m his— I mean, we are… sorry. This is… I wasn’t exactly expecting to find the person who’s…”
Maybe you shouldn’t say you’ve been annoyed by your soulmate since you got your stupid mark. At least not while he’s in the room.
“That’s actually what I brought you here to talk about,” Shin Yejung tells you, a bit like a doctor who’s about to deliver the bad news first. She doesn’t even take the card from you. “Would you like to take a seat?”
You scrunch your eyes shut for a second with a little shake of your head, trying to manual reset your brain because clearly it’s still muddled. “Sorry, what? You want to talk about…?”
The mob of men in the room get hidden from your vision as Yejung strategically places herself between them and you. “Soulmates,” she says.
You look down at the black card, then back up at her again. “Soulmates.”
“Yes. Your soulmates. I was hoping to talk to you alone first.” She sends a pointed look at the men behind her. “But it’s not exactly easy to get these guys to lis—”
“Sorry.” You wave a hand in the air to get her to stop, unable to comprehend any of her words after— “Did you say my soulmates? As in… mates, multiple? Mates with an S at the end? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
Remaining calm while your mind spins, Yejung nods. “I know this is a lot to take in.”
“Know what is a lot to take in?”
Yejung opens her mouth to answer, but a voice blurts out behind her, “We’re your soulmates!”
Maybe you haven’t known him long enough or talked to him that many times, but you recognize Jihoon’s voice, and something in your gut suddenly grows sharp. Not painful, but begging for you to feel it. Yejung shifts so your field of view is once again filled by men too pretty to be all in the same room. Jihoon’s standing there, fists clenched at his sides, out of breath for no discernable reason other than…
We’re your soulmates.
Seeing your hesitation, Jihoon huffs and tears a bandaid you never really noticed off the back of his right hand. Even before he completes the motion, you know what must be under the bandage. He holds his hand up, though, and the evidence is very near damning.
Next to him, Huijun smiles and lifts his arm, pointing to his own five lines with his opposite hand. 
Most of the guys behind them show you the same thing. Five lines on the smooth backs of their hands, near the base of the thumb. Dear lord, you don’t even know how many of them there are.
The angry one who pulled the man off of you earlier, at least, just looks lost, like he once had control and now has none. Relatable.
You stumble back a bit. Instinctively, you say, “Songbird?”
Though quite a few of the men seem to perk up at the nickname, only the one you already gave the moniker to truly reacts. Your soulmate — god, one of your soulmates? — looks up at you from the floor and answers, “Yeah?” before realizing he’s even doing it.
“Never mind,” you dismiss with a wave of your hand. “Ms Shin?”
“Yes?” She steps closer, a worried look on her face.
Jeonghan, too, moves toward you with a similar look on his face.
You try to take a steady breath and fail. “I think I’ll take that seat now.”
Swaying backward, your body falls onto the leather couch. 
You hear approximately ten panicked shouts as you go down.
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prev ⭒ chapter seven (4.0k) ⭒ next
new chapters for atus are not on a schedule nor guaranteed. there is no taglist. thank you for reading!
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melanieph321 · 21 hours
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You and Jude met a few days before going to SGP for international duty in a club or something.
You guys click right away and there’s so much chemistry and you end up spending the whoooooole night together, you have breakfast in bed the morning after and off he goes to SGP. You start texting and there’s more attraction between you two and he keep saying that he can’t stop thinking about you and it’s the same for you.
He invites you to the first friendly with Brazil and you don’t know if it’s appropriate going as families and partners will be there and ofc his parents.
You end up going and he introduces you as his friend but most of the guys know each one of his friends and they had never heard of you so they know there’s more, same for his parents as they catch you talking deep and they notice his soft look for you.
This is so good! 😭
SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS (DAY 4)
Jude Bellingham x Reader - Capture Me Part 1/2
Part 2
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Enjoy!
You had always been passionate about photography, and as a photography student, you were always on the lookout for opportunities to hone your skills and earn some extra money. So when your teacher asked you to help her out with a shoot, you did not hesitate to take the job. However, when she gave you the adress to where the shoot would be happening, you had to read the text message twice, one time out loud,  just to make sure that you hadn't gotten it wrong.
"Wembley Stadium?" You frowned. "What the fuck am I doing at Wembley Stadium?"
Turns out that your teacher had a life outside of teaching university kids how to adjust their lenses. Apparently she owned her own model agency that specialized in Sports photography, hence today's job - shooting England's national men's football team ahead of their fixture against Brazil.
You were a bit nervous at first. You had never photographed for a sporting event before. Thankfully your teacher put you on portrait duty whilst she took care of capturing the players in action. It turned out to be a really fun shoot. One of the best gigs you've ever gotten. The football players were a fun and energetic bunch, and they were eager to show off their skills and personalities to your camera. Some of them were constantly moving around, striking poses even though you didn't ask them to. It was helpful at times but not always.
Despite the chaos, the football players were incredibly friendly and curious about you and your job. You found yourself laughing and joking with the players, all of them except for one.
"Is this gonna take all day, or what?" Said Jude Bellingham. He was called in to stand behind your camera but seemed a bit on the edge to.
"Just chill out, Jude, she'll just be a minute." Said one of his teamsmates, telling him off. Jude took it as a joke, though. "Yeah, but you lot get to go to lunch already whilst I'm still stuck here."
You had just gotten to readjusting the lighting but was immediately struck by his confidence and charisma. However, you were determined to focus on your work rather than letting his cocky demeanor distract you.
You snapped a shot.
"Hey?"
Jude had his eyes closed in that one so you snapped another shot.
"Hey, I wasn't ready."
You snapped another shot. And another.
"For fuck sakes...Now I know you're joking with me."
You ignored him, eyes narrowed at your laptop screen.
"Fascinating." You muttered.
Jude frowned.  "What is?" 
Looking at your computer screen you couldn't help but notice the way the light reflected off his muscles and the way Judes smile lit up his entire face.
"Is something wrong?"
You looked up. Jude was looking at you with a bit of concern in his eyes. Heat rose to your face. "No. Of course not."
"Oh. Okay." He nodded. "So am I done?"
"No."
"No?"
"No. It's just..." You were blushing now. Blushing like a fool. "I meant to say that you are really photogenic."
"And what does that mean. That I'm hot?"
"No, and yes." You laughed, avoiding snorting like a pig. "I guess you can say that you're photos are good looking, but it's more about the fact that you are totally made to be behind the camera." You said, cringing internally.
"Aren't you the one behind the camera?" Jude smirked.
You shook your head. A sign to hold back on the compliments towards a guy who probably gets them everyday.
"But you are." He said, still with his eyes curiously checking you out.
"I am what?"
"Technically you are the one behind the camera not me."
You sighed. "Yes, maybe I am."
He smiled, having proven his point.
It was a sweet moment. A brief moment that you share with Jude, where the two of you were shyly glancing at each other, not really saying anything. Nevertheless, the shoot continued with Jude posing behind the camera, showing of the men's football kit for this year.
Despite his initial arrogance, Jude turned out to be a lot of fun to work with, and you found yourself enjoying the shoot more than you expected. Perhaps that's what led you to take up his offer when he asked....
"So are you having lunch with us or...?"
"Um...I don't know?" You said, not sure if your teacher mentioned that lunch would be included today.
"Come on." Jude waved. "I'm sure the guys can spare you a sausage."
"Thanks Jude, that's really sweet of you." But you had yet packed away all of your photography tools. They were supposed to be loaded onto your teachers van and taken back to her agency. "I don't think I'm gonna make it to lunch, I still have a job to do."
"Okay." He said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door frame. "If not lunch, how about dinner?"
"Pardon?"
He smiled at your reaction. "I'm asking you to dinner. Are you free tonight?"
You frowned. "Do you even know my name?"
"Do I have to?"
You rolled your eyes.
"Fine." He sighed. "I'm Jude Bellingham, what's your name?" He offered you a hand.
You took it and shook it firmly. "It's Y/N."
His eyes widened in suprise, a slight twitch in the corner of his lips. "Hello Y/N, are you free to go out to dinner with me tonight?"
"No."
"Oh, come on."
You laughed. "Fine. But nothing fancy."
"Why not?" He frowned.
"Why not? Don't people follow you with cameras everywhere you go? I don't want to be a part of that."
"Too bad." He shrugged. "I've been told that that I'm very photogenic."
"Shut up." You laughed and shoved him out of the room, shouting: "I'll leave my number with the people at the ticket outlet!"
"Alright, talk to you later Y/N."
"Bye, Jude."
Part 2
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hanahaki270 · 2 days
Text
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ “You Belong to Me” ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
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・❥・ Synopsis ・❥・ Having an Uchiha as an ex doesn’t mean anything. Once you’ve managed to make them fall for you, you’re basically stuck with them for eternity.
・❥・ Pairing ・❥・ Sasuke x Fem!reader
・❥・ A/N ・❥・ I finally decided to continue watching shippuden after having it on pause for 5 years.. yeahhh so I’m having a huge obsession with it rn. Also please feel free to send prompt requests for me to write! And I feel like I definitely could have written this out better but I was in a rush and stressed out about Job interviews so mb
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♥︎
You finally gathered the courage within you to end your relationship with Sasuke. This wasn’t an easy decision. In fact it was tearing you apart. You still loved him. But the differences between your priorities and his were far too different to the point where they were conflicting with each other.
You might as well have been talking to a wall that day with how blank his expression was after you just announced how you were breaking up with him. The loud silence was killing you inside, does he not care at all?
♥︎
-You wanting to break up with him was like a jab at his ego. The Sasuke Uchiha. The last prodigy of his clan and you wanted to leave him? Though this enraged him, he refused to let you know it. He couldn’t let you have the satisfaction of knowing that this actually affected him.
-After you left the apartment he started to completely trash the place. Everything in it was obliterated into nothingness. But as soon as he went out in public he acted completely fine as if nothing happened.
-Anytime you were around he would make sure you saw him with other girls. He wanted to show you that he could be with anybody he desired without a problem, at any given second. Show you that you weren’t nothing special to him.
-He was lying. Because as soon as you left his vision he treated the girls like shit and pushed them aside after they served their purpose in making you jealous.
-He tried to sleep with random women in the village to further prove that he didn’t need you. (He was really just trying to convince himself) but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. None of them even compared to your beauty. Even the thought of another person lying on the bed you two once shared disgusted him.
-After weeks of this even Sasuke couldn’t believe his own facade. He craved you. He craved your smile, your laughter, Your touch. And is willing to do whatever it takes to remind you that you belong with him.
-He sucked up his pride and begged Naruto to send you two on missions together. So you’d be basically forced to talk to each other . (Naruto uses this against him every now and then)
-During one of the missions, one of your comrades decide to get a little touchy with you. You pay this no mind since you have no interest in the guy, but Sasuke definitely notices it. What’s a worthless ninja doing talking to what’s his?
-A couple of days after that mission, the scenario of another man getting that close to you haunted Sasuke day and night. There’s no way in hell you’d ever willingly decide to be with any other man but him. Right? He needed the reassurance and he needed it now.
-It was 4 am when you opened the door to your apartment after you were awoken by loud desperate banging on the door just to be faced with your ex. He invited himself in, closing the door behind him as he slowly crept towards you.
“Sasuke?”
-He reached for your hand and held it in his, as he focused on you as if there was nothing else in this world. You could tell he developed dark circles since the last time you saw him.
“The day we got together was the day I chose you to be the one I repopulate my clan with. The only one worthy of the surname Uchiha. You’re mine and I’m yours.”
-He noticed how you were at a loss of words so he took this moment to do what he’s been yearning to. He grabbed the back of your head pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was messy and desperate. He kissed you as if you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And to him, you were.
-Needless to say you were vulnerable to his request and took him back. How could you not?
♥︎
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