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hajimesh · 4 years ago

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𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙡 — pro! oikawa / fem reader

after visiting oikawa's family, you both spend a relaxing weekend at an exclusive onsen—enjoying the warm bodies of water. but what starts as playful banter, turns into him reminding you why you love him and no one else.

⥅ word c. 2,273

⥅ warnings. brat/sub reader, brat tamer oikawa, intercrural + semi-public + water sex, degradation (mild), dumbification, daddy kink, pet names, aftercare

⥅ author n. my piece for the @bbthots-underground nsfw mini collab !! thank u @tsumue for literally giving me a plot to work with, u saved me<33 and @chibi-chanforever + @crescentsteel for taking the time to beta read ♡

dense layers of white snow coat the wooden rooftops, the sunlight reflecting on them which brightens your surroundings. you can’t help but marvel at the blinding sight before you, a breathtaking scene worthy of the title ‘winter wonderland’.

oikawa did warn you about how winters in japan are cold, but you weren’t expecting it to be this cold. thankfully, the warmth of the onsen wraps around you like a comforting blanket as you bask in its water. it’s in moments like these when you’re thankful for your boyfriend’s remarkable career and popularity, allowing you to enjoy most of the luxuries that are handed out to him on a silver platter.

a well-known onsen in the prefecture of iwate offered him a weekend getaway for two, and after spending the holidays with his family, the two of you agreed that you deserved a few days just for yourselves; to relax and enjoy each other’s company before he got busy again with his volleyball duties. the place is almost empty since you got snowed in after your first day, which stopped the usual flow of tourists, and save for the staff —who have been nothing but attentive to your needs and very respectful of your privacy— you and oikawa have the place all for yourselves.

your favorite part has to be the private rooms: spacey, indoor baths framed by glass windows that allow you to gaze at the dazzling white snow from your spot inside the water—the warm water soaking your skin and seeping through your pores, as it relaxes your tense muscles.

oikawa’s arms are wrapped around your waist, pressing his chest to your side and hiding his flushed face in your neck. his usually fluffy hair lies flat against his forehead thanks to the humidity in the air, and before you can think twice about it, your hand pushes it back—away from his handsome face.

“this is nice, isn’t it?” he murmurs on the skin of your shoulder, placing a faint kiss on it.

you hum as your eyes switch from the falling snowflakes to his form, “i missed spending time just with you.”

a comfortable silence settles between the both of you, his breath fanning over your neck while your head rests on top of his.

“my family loves you,” he breaks the silence after a few minutes, “i think even more than they love me.”

you recall the way his family teased him, —all in good fun, of course— telling you that you still had time to escape and find someone better. so, after noticing the way he huffed out the words, it’s only natural you decide to play along with it.

“and i love them more than i love you.”

his hold on you tightens, a low chuckle escapes his lips, making the hair on your body rise.

“we both know you don’t mean that,” his lips trace the sensitive skin of your neck, reaching your jaw and pressing a light kiss on it, “right, love?”

“mm, i don’t know. maybe i do.”

you feel his arms growing limp against you, a rush of coldness grazes your side as he moves away from your body. you’re about to complain when his hands grab you by your waist and turn you around so you can face him.

“say that again,” he challenges.

his usually relaxed face is gone, a stern look taking its place instead. but the faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips spurs you on all the more.

“i love your family more than i love you,” you say, and lift your chin in defiance, watching his eyes fire up at your reply.

before you can even imagine what’s going on through his mind, an involuntary shiver runs down your spine when his hands move upwards, his fingers grazing the skin of your breasts.

“no, you don’t,” he states, his face leaning closer to yours, “and i’m going to tell you why since it seems like your dumb little brain is getting fogged up by the vapor.”

your breath hitches at his words, excitement running through your body as he looms above you.

“feel this?” he asks rhetorically, the pads of his thumbs rubbing circles on your nipples, “i don’t even have to touch your pussy to get you aroused. or am i wrong?”

you’re so lost in his eyes, the lustful look in them taking your breath away plus the sensation of his fingers tweaking your erect nipples, that you’re unable to think of a coherent answer.

he chuckles, releasing one of your nubs to caress your damp hair away from your face, “can’t even talk right now, huh? where did my brat go?”

your lips part, about to defend yourself, when he captures them with his. the kiss is messy, wet, his tongue immediately prodding between your lips in search of yours. a weak sigh leaves your mouth, his hand settling on the back of your head to keep you in place —to ensure your lips stay locked with his— while the other travels down your body until it reaches your throbbing clit.

he swallows down your squeal of surprise when his pointer and middle finger start massaging your clit in slow circles. if you had to describe his ministrations on you, you’d label them as thrilling and erotic; clouding even more your already hazy mind.

with a gentle bite on your lower lip, he finally pulls away from your mouth. but he’s still close enough for your breaths to overlap one another. you involuntarily buck your hips against his fingers, wanting —needing— more of his touch.

“patience, baby. i haven’t finished my explanation yet.”

oikawa takes a seat on one of the steps, the water reaching just below his waist, and proceeds to pull you between his legs. you try to sit down but he keeps your hips up, accommodating his erection between your thighs, so you place your hands on top of his to steady yourself.

“here’s another reason why you love me: no one pleases you like i do,” he accentuates his statement by thrusting up, cursing under his breath when your soft skin rubs against his length, “just as no one else can make me this hard, only you. is that what you wanted to hear?”

“tooru,” his name leaves your lips in a breathless way, your foggy mind filling with lewd images of him.

you can imagine his parted lips and the way his brown irises focus on you through half-lidded eyes, following every single one of your movements.

“yes, baby?” he coos and all you can do is whine. a twinge of tenderness swirls on his chest at how obvious it is that you’re enjoying it, “use your big girl words, sweetheart. i know this might be too much for you, but i need you to tell me how you feel.”

the head of his cock rubs between your thighs, grazing your slit slightly and providing you with a smidge of the pleasure you’re longing for.

“g-good, feels... so good.”

he stills for a moment, observing you closely while his hands cup your breasts, “now, can you tell me who do you love the most? or do i need to keep reminding you?”

before you can think of an answer, his thrusts suddenly pick up making your ass smack against his thighs as his fingers play with the soft flesh of your chest.

“tooru, i–”

the words die on your tongue at the sudden stimulation, your head rolling back and whimpering when his fingers give a harsh pinch to your hardened nipples.

“my dumb little baby, becoming stupid as soon as i play with your body,” he breathes out the words on the back of your neck, struggling to maintain his composure. your eyes cross at a particular thrust, at the same time his chest vibrates with his deep laugh, “that’s another reason why you love me. only i can get you to lose all coherent thoughts, making you my dumb little cumslut.”

a groan leaves your lips at the name, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you and filling your pussy with his thick cum.

“you crave it, always needy and wanting my cock inside your cunt,” he kisses your back, bending on top of you so he can hold you closer.

“i-i need you, please,” you turn your head to the side and your eyes meet his, “please, daddy.”

he stops as soon as the name rolls out of your tongue, a shiver running down his spine and making his cock throb between your thighs. he loves having you at his mercy, to see his cock-hungry baby begging for him.

“what is it that you want, princess?”

“daddy’s cock,” your pouty lips look so enticing to him that he has to stop himself from shoving his length inside your mouth, “i n-need it so bad.”

“alright, since you’re finally starting to use your words.”

he releases his hold on you and makes you face him, climbing on his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist as the flushed tip of his cock grazes your folds.

“we can’t be too loud, okay?” he slowly eases himself inside of you, and a moan threatens to escape your mouth at the delicious stretch, “don’t want anyone to hear how gorgeous my princess sounds as she gets fucked. only i get to hear it,” he growls in your ear.

your jaw falls open, your eyes closing in pleasure when he finally bottoms out “ohh, daddy. s-so big.”

he hisses at the way your walls flutter around him. he lifts you up from his lap, leaving just the head of his cock inside, only to ram it back into you; and this time you can’t contain the moan that slips past your lips, slightly echoing in the room.

your eyes widen when you realize what you just did, looking into his stern gaze and knowing you’ve successfully pissed him off.

“what did i tell you?” he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest and thrusting up, groaning in your ear, “you’re such a slut, wanting to let everyone know you’re getting off on my cock.”

his pace quickens, the feel of your pussy squeezing his cock prompting him to bite down on your shoulder, which earns him a cry of pain from you. he pulls you away from him, holding your jaw in a bruising grip as he looks straight into your eyes.

“i told you to be quiet, didn’t i?” he hisses, his brows furrowing and his harsh gaze making you clench around him, “look at you, a dumb bitch so cock-hungry that can’t even follow one simple order.”

your mouth opens in a silent scream when his cock hits your cervix, “d-daddy, ‘m so so sorry! i promise i’ll be good–”

“then shut up already.”

you try to stay quiet as he keeps reaching the right spots, the pleasure too overwhelming that you end up falling limp against him. his arms circle your waist and hold you close to his chest, thrusting up into your hole and making the water slosh around you.

you’re thankful the staff gave you privacy, otherwise they’d be getting one hell of a show.

after maintaining the same pace for a couple of minutes, he slows down and allows himself to relax, resting his back on the stone and watching you bounce on top of him, the current position causing his pubic bone to brush against your clit.

you can’t help but dig your nails on the skin of his arms, whimpering when you realize your release is approaching alarmingly fast. you don’t have time to warn him of your impending orgasm before warmth fills your belly and extends through the rest of your body.

“shit— princess, hold still,” he groans as he watches you writhe on top of him, your walls fluttering around his girth and sending him towards his high as well.

warm spurts of cum fill your cunt, his hips jerking a few more times before he finally stills with his cock still buried inside of you. your pussy throbs around him, spasming and prolonging both of your highs. once you’ve both calmed down, he brushes your hair away from your face, leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose and then capturing your lips in a delicate kiss.

his large hands cradle your face once you break apart, his thumbs rubbing the skin of your cheeks comfortingly, “are you good, princess?” he coos, lifting your face so he can see you properly.

“just tired, wanna take a nap.”

he envelops you in a hug and lifts you up from his lap, a faint whimper escaping your mouth as he removes himself from your tender walls. he pulls you out of the water and immediately covers you with a towel, kissing your forehead before fetching one for himself. once you’re both fully covered in your bathrobes, he grabs your hand and starts making his way to your room with you right behind him, looking back at you every few seconds and noticing your eyelids getting droopy.

“let’s take a nap, baby. you did so good,” he guides you to the bed once you’re in the privacy of your room. he settles himself right next to you, squeezing you between his arms as tiredness takes over you.

it’s not until you’re finally asleep when he hears you mumble the words he had teased you with, making his heart swell in delight...

...and relieved to know you love him as much as he loves you.

#tw.dumbification #tw.degradation #oikawa smut #haikyuu smut #oikawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #oikawa x reader smut #oikawa tooru

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cockasinthebird · 4 years ago

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Number 11 please!

Hello hello hello!! ✨

11. “If this is a booty call then yes.”

I went with a Modern Day College AU for the sake of texting and, well, booty calls, I hope that’s to your liking!!! Thank you so much for sending one in, I’ve gotten so many and each one of you all hold a special place in my heart! 🤗💕

Just above 3k words! Enjoy~

Fuck fuck fuck.

He groans in exasperation and throws his head back onto the pillow, dark hair spreading, clean and still a slight bit damp from the shower. Every night, to wind down from another stressful day of studying and classes, he goes through an intricate ritual to unwind and calm down, spending close to two hours in the communal bathroom on this floor, using a dozen different skin care products and hair masks. It makes him feel better about himself, makes him feel pretty despite only being able to sleep for about four hours every night.

But sometimes it isn’t quite enough to make him relax.

Stress, anxiety, parental pressure, all of it is keeping him awake and it’s definitely going to have him grow gray hair and wrinkles all too early. Not that he wouldn’t absolutely rock the shit out of silver hair, but he likes his brown hair, thick and deep in its color, although Billy has been talking about how good highlights would look.

Hmmm Billy

Billy Billy Billy

Now there’s someone that doesn’t cause him any grief, if you look past the few fist fights they’ve been in in the past, at the start of the semester, and the occasional teasing.

Steve thinks some more about Billy, the gorgeous, handsome lit major, moved here from California, skin kissed and beloved by the sun, body hard and firm with sculpted biceps and rippling abs.

He chews a bit on his lower lip as he looks to his phone, peeking out from underneath his pillow, daring him to just text him. Billy’s only two floors up. And Steve’s been spending the last half hour fingering himself and jerking off, craving that sweet, delicious relief, but all he’s gotten so far is a half chub and exhausted fingers.

The more he thinks about it, the better of an idea it seems, so he wipes his fingers clean of lube and grabs his phone.

Bambi: U up 💕

Despite it being 1am, the response is near immediate.

👑💘🌹: If this is a booty call then yes

👑💘🌹: 🍆👌💦

And Steve feels heat rush to his gut immediately, proving way more effective than his own touch - way to be biased, body.

Bambi: Tommy’s spending the night w/ Carol

👑💘🌹: 👍👍👍

He smiles wide with a clear blush to his cheeks and shies away, covering his face with a hand. So maybe he’s got a crush, but who cares! He can handle it, it’s fine, Billy’s not the “relationship type,” as he explained before their first time together, and it is fine.

Quickly he throws the phone back onto the mattress, jumps up and starts shoving dirty laundry under his bed, papers and books get crammed into the drawers of his desk, and he just barely manages to check his hair in a mirror before there’s a gentle knocking.

Billy must have hurried down here, and just so, Steve rushes to open the door to his dorm room.

“Did anyone see you?” he quietly asks Billy through the slightly ajar opening.

“If they did, I doubt they’d tell anyone; wouldn’t wanna get caught sneaking around past midnight.”

And Billy doesn’t wait for Steve to invite him in before pushing through. He looks around the dimly lit room, taking in all the barrenness of dorm life - it being nothing like they show in the movies or on instagram.

“Looks the same as last; you ever gonna put up poste-” he goes mum as he turns to Steve, now realising that he’s naked and hard.

The devil is in his grin, and it makes Steve’s soul ache, cock twitch, as he looks back with heavy eyes, dark with lust, grabbing Billy by the collar of his tee to pull him into a deep and desirous kiss, tongues out to taste, hands slipping down his pale back to squeeze his exposed ass, eliciting an erotic, “A-ahh.”

“You’re so eager, huh pretty boy?” Billy drawls all sensuous as he gropes Steve, bringing their hips flush together, fingers inching between cheeks, closer and closer and-

He leans away, staring at Steve with his mouth slightly open, watching him as he presses one finger all the way in.

“Fuck,” Steve gasps loudly.

Billy’s slack jaw tenses to a grin, and he chuckles as he licks across his teeth. He doesn’t pause, keeps pumping his finger in and out, and Steve can feel how Billy’s cock grows hard against his own leaking prick, caught between them.

“Hmmm been thinking ‘bout me, babe?” Billy hums in the most mischievous way, drives the finger as deep as he can go and wiggles it around.

Steve squirms, rutting his hips against Billy, moaning all too loud with just one finger and some friction against his impatient dick. He tries to kiss Billy, have his lips muffle him, keep him quiet, but the blonde just dodges out of the way with a shitty smile.

But when Billy presses a second, thick, rough finger in, it becomes impossible to not pant and cry like he always does, making him weak in the knees, like pudding in Billy’s hands.

“I love how easy it is with you,” Billy growls and moves down Steve’s neck, sucking and biting and licking, marking him with gorgeous purple hickeys. “Already so wet and stretched out perfect for my big cock.”

Steve wants to retort, say something of equal vulgarity, tell him just how bad he needs Billy to fuck him blind, shove his head into the pillow and pound into his ass. But all he can do is push onto those two fingers, whimper breathlessly against Billy’s lips, and clutch his hands in the fabric of his shirt.

“Gotta keep quiet, baby, can’t have you waking up the whole campus. Think you can do that for me?”

He nods, profusely, and stumbles through his words, “Yes, yes, I’ll shut up, please just… I-I need to relieve some goddamn stress.”

Billy’s self-satisfied smirk cracks open a little to show teeth as he chuckles, a low and dark rumble that Steve feels beneath his palms. “I can help you with that.”

And Billy kisses him again, licks into the sweetness of Steve’s mouth, swallowing every little whimper that comes whenever those digits curl, fully inside of Steve’s ass. When he pulls them out he leaves behind an aching emptiness; Steve feeling so needy he’s actually a slight bit uncomfortable in the absence of being filled and stretched.

“Go sit on the bed,” Billy demands, smirking with lidded eyes, gazing at Steve with such promises, he can’t help but melt a bit.

Steve doesn’t hesitate before sitting down on his bed; it’s a small and wooden frame, big enough for one person, two if they’re on their sides or on top of one another. All kinds of things are possible even with limited space, as these two have discovered through the last half year.

Billy lifts off his shirt and drops the shorts, exposing his steely, veiny cock, standing to full attention at Steve’s eye height, and he feels his entire body twitch with far too much enthusiasm, mouth running at the sight like a fucking dog and bone. Billy moves closer, spreads his legs and plants them on either side of Steve.

“Wanna suck me off, pretty boy?” it's barely an ask, as Billy brings one hand to drag his fingers through Steve’s hair, the other to angle the tip of his fat dick towards Steve’s lips.

Steve gazes up at him through his lashes, looking almost thankful for the opportunity, and he’s not gonna lie, there is something so enjoyable about having Billy’s cock heavy in his mouth, although he’s not super into swallowing, he’d do it for him.

So he wets his lips, runs his tongue flat and broad against Billy’s blunt head like it’s a goddamn ice cream cone, watches how he bites his lip, staring at how Steve tentatively tastes him before sinking down abruptly, all the way till his nose brushes against Billy’s lower abdomen, his dick hitting the back of Steve’s throat.

“Fuck, Harrington,” Billy groans out and brings a hand against the wall to support himself as he bends forward.

Steve works his tongue, swallows around the head, hollowing his cheeks as he slowly pulls off again till he can suck at the tip, then goes back down, starts bobbing and moaning.

Billy “helps” a bit, catching on to the rhythm and thrusting along to it, testing to see just how deep and fast he can go before Steve would start complaining. Which proves to be quite a bit more than Steve offered up initially; with a fist locked tightly in his hair, he relaxes as much as he can to allow Billy free reigns of fucking into his mouth, sloppy and careless and obscene, spit running down Steve’s chin as he does nothing but enjoy being used by Billy.

Billy Billy Billy

Billy’s scent is incredible, musky and dominant and salty, his sweat tasting all the same, and Steve has started to notice that whenever they’re together, whenever they’re intimate, Billy doesn’t bother with cologne or deodorant or anything that might obscure his smell. Maybe Billy doesn’t care to be all fancy and proper around Steve like he is with the girls or other guys around campus. Maybe he knows it drives Steve wild.

Steve had gotten so lost in the moment, that when Billy pulls all the way out it’s a sudden awakening, and Steve swallows only spit and pre, wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand and is left gasping for air like he just ran a marathon.

“Where do you keep your condoms?” Billy sounds just as out of breath, probably having been all too close to cumming already.

Eagerness so apparent when he throws himself onto the bed it’s almost embarrassing, as he dives for the large box underneath his bed. It takes a second of rummaging through dildos and vibrators and lubes to find a condom wrapper, and barely does he get to offer it up before Billy yanks it from his fingers.

He fiddles a bit with the foil, grinning in a way that makes Steve’s skin crawl wonderfully, then asks, “Want me to take you from behind? Fuck you hard into your bed?” each word a lascivious little promise.

“Please…” Steve’s voice quivers with wanton.

Loves getting absolutely railed by Billy, he trusts him explicitly, would let him do anything. Even if Billy doesn’t feel the same way about Steve, Steve can’t get enough of him; hasn’t been able to think of anyone else or even be with someone other than Billy since they started this little affair months ago.

Billy Billy Billy.

He gets on all fours, gathers his legs and bends down to press his face into his pillow, arching his back. Heart beats faster, full erection twitching where it dangles alone, as he feels the mattress dip on either side of his knees when Billy positions himself behind.

“Mmmh, I like it when you say please and beg for it.” With the condom on, he rubs the fat head of his cock against Steve’s clenching entrance, but then slips it between cheeks, swaying his hips back and forth as he teases with too little.

“Please, Billy,” Steve whines, moves his ass closer for more, but a pair of strong hands stills him. “Please please please, Billy, I need you to fuck me so bad, I-I want your cock, please.”

And Billy pulls away. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” Bucks his hips as he shoves his girthy cock all the way in in one fell swoop.

Steve clasps his hand flat over his mouth to keep in the surge of moans that comes from Billy setting a relentless pace, slow but rough, skin slapping together louder than Steve’s own croons and keening.

“Like that?” Billy laughs, nasty and snide, grinning like a wolf staring down at a helpless sheep.

A sheep whose cries gets suppressed by a pillow, as Steve bites into it in his tries to keep quiet, but the way Billy fucks him all brutal and savage feels absolutely incredible, making his eyes roll back.

“God, you take my cock so well, princess,” his growl hot and predatory.

Billy bends forward, grabbing Steve by the neck for support, hand like a vice and pressing him harder into the bed, the other hand on his hip.

“That ok for you?” he asks as if he cares about Steve.

Or maybe that’s just how Steve hears it.

“Y-yes, ahh, fuck!” he says in a hurried tone before biting down on his lip again to keep those kinds of bawdy sounds in.

“Good.” And Billy picks up the speed, thrusts going shallow as he shoves into Steve like both their lives depend on it, making the bed shake and creak beneath their weight.

Each deep plunge more phenomenal than the other, driving straight into his prostate; he won’t last long if Billy keeps this up, waves of the purest arousal drowning out all his other senses, and Steve lets himself get pulled under the current.

“Fuck, baby, love how tight your ass is, arrh, best hole in all of Indiana,” Billy’s voice deep and gravely as he praises Steve with words dipped in honeyed lust. “So eager to suck me dry, all needy and starved for my cock.”

Anyone that has ever had even one conversation with Billy Hargrove will know just how much he loves to listen to himself talk, but Steve can’t blame him, for now there’s nothing more in his world than Billy’s thick erection and sultry voice. Praising him, calling him dear names, groaning and cursing about how fucking good he is. He could listen to it all night; wants to listen to it for the rest of his life.

“Feel so good, princess.”

Billy…

“So nice and warm and soft inside of you.”

Billy…

“Wanna cum inside of you so bad.”

“Billy, I’m-I’m… so close, ah-h-” Steve’s voice a mess in contrast to how cool and collected Billy remains.

“Shh, gotta be quiet,” his tone soft and delicate as he continues to utterly ram into Steve’s sensitive body, pounding like a hammer.

He bends down, snakes his arm around Steve to cover his mouth, and angles him to the side to kiss across his cheek, nibble at his jawline, bite down his neck.

“Show me how good I make you feel, let me watch you ruin your sheets.”

Steve moans out in agreeance into his hand strong and calloused against his lips, then brings his own down to fist at his leaking prick, throbbing and filled and oh so close, he’s toeing the finish line, only a few strokes away from doing as told, wet and slick with pre, seeking to find the same rhythm as Billy fucks into him, like a rabid dog.

His orgasm is sudden, like being shoved into a pool of euphoria, bottomless and filling his lungs.

“God, yes, fuck, just like that,” Billy growls into his ear, burning hot and white, bringing an extra, warm, thick wave of thrill through Steve’s emptying cock.

He jerks quick and uncontrolled as he spills onto his sheets, toes twitching on the edge of cramping up as his body tenses, Billy’s girthy cock still drilling into him, and when Steve is ready to go limp, blissed out and finally relaxed, Billy leans away.

Grabs him by the hips to continue thrusting, bucking, slapping skin together as he pulls out to the tip just to slam right back in, tugging at Steve’s hips till he’s fully buried to the hilt, then once more, twice, thrice, ramming into Steve where jolts of over stimulated pleasure and a burning sensation makes him cry into his pillow.

And Billy digs his nails into soft flesh as he brings them together, crude and deep as he cums, breathless with a stutter, he brings a hand next to Steve’s head for support. It’s short and silent and uneventful, perfected from years of hiding and fucking around; he once told Steve that loves to fuck in all too public places, dangerous and with high chances of getting caught. Said he wanted to bring Steve to some of those places.

Steve’s… kinda hard again. Sore, exhausted, satisfied, sure, but definitely not entirely flaccid.

Billy kisses him down his back, across every bump of his spine that he can reach, rubbing soothingly against where his nails have left marks, then pulls out and gets off the bed. He pulls off the condom and throws it into the trash can, untied and reckless.

“How you doing?” he asks as he gets dressed, back turned to Steve.

Who’s still bent over, legs spread out to steady himself a bit, but nevertheless unmoving, staring at Billy’s gorgeous back muscles.

“I’m… yeah, I’m good,” Steve chuckles with a light heart and a way too satisfied and appreciative smile.

Bluest of eyes glance at him over a shoulder, and after putting on his shirt again, Billy goes to kneel by the bed, where he pushes aside a few locks of hair so that he can properly look Steve in the eyes.

Steve thinks it unfair, that the way Billy touches him gently like this burns more than when he holds him down like he did tonight. He hates how easy he is, how needy he is for pure affection, and he can feel it creep up in red on his cheeks.

“You should probably clean all that up before it dries,” Billy says so nonchalant, like their tender little moment here just doesn’t affect him at all.

And Steve can’t do anything but sigh, hopelessly in love with someone who is, as Billy puts it, “A man of the people.”

“Yeah… it’d be real gross if I slept like this,” Steve huffs and sits back on his heels.

“Just get some tissues to wipe it off then sleep on a towel till you can change your sheets tomorrow,” Billy explains, eyeing the wet stain seeping into the fabric, “It’s what I do.”

Then he stands up again, stretching and scratching his stomach with a tired and pleased groan, before heading for the door.

“See you next time, Harrington.”

#Harringrove #My Writing #Lemon #Mystery Prompt #500 Followers #College AU #Modern Day AU #sergeantjamesrogers

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ppersonna · 5 years ago

Text

vacancy. - kth (part two)

touch me, yeah. i want you to touch me there. make me feel like i am breathing, feel like i am human - a little death, the neighbourhood

summary- spending the night with taehyung was like standing too close to a fire. the warmth, pleasant at first, became a ravaging inferno soon after.

rating- R/NC17

word count- 4.8k

pairing- taehyung x reader

genre- smut, angst, fluff- idol!au

warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), slight dirty talk, real emotional shit, creampie, cum eating, real tiny breeding kink if u squint, crying

a.n- okay so the first part was supposed to be a one shot but yall loved it too damn much i had to write another. this is for u, anons and commenters.

part one

It had been over a year since you heard from him.

You were an unwilling audience to his every move, his travels around the world and dazzling concerts seemed to follow you. His face, that gorgeous and heartbreaking face, was everywhere. Billboards, advertisements, commercials.

It was as if the world was mocking you, reminding you of what you came so close to grasping only to have it fall through your fingers.

You were Icarus; he was your sun. You flew too close on wings of wax, melting against the heat, and fell down into the sea and drowned in your sorrow.

Tae hadn’t called you in over a year now, no communication save for a few ‘likes’ on your twitter, enough to keep you salivating for more. The last time you fucked him surely had to be the last. It was the only time he’s ever told you he loved you explicitly. All other occasions he would imply it, hint at it, but this time he had come right out and say it. It must heave meant the ending of it all.

You tried to piece together a life without Tae, while his image and memory of fingertips on bare skin remained burned into your skull. You were sure Tae was imprinted into your DNA.

The ringing of your phone shot you out of bed at 3 am. Your heart surged. No one called you at 3 am. No one except him.

“I need to see you tonight,” he breathed. “I miss you so fucking much.”

Tears slipped down your face, your crying clear to the man on the phone.

“Please, don’t cry, baby. Let me take care of you.” he whimpered.

You agreed, finding yourself powerless and unwilling to deny him. You were never successful in the past. Why would it work now? Instead, you could melt away for an hour in blissful escapism. It was better than lying awake in the middle of the night with heartache.

Taehyung agreed to meet you at your apartment. It was a first. He usually required a meeting at any of the half-dilapidated motel rooms on the edge of town. He wanted to hide when he was with you, be away from the prying eyes and flashing cameras. At least, that’s what he told you.

To you, it felt like he was too ashamed to be seen with you.

It felt like hours before the knock came at your door. It was light, quick. He wasn’t trying to draw attention to himself. You slipped a black robe over your naked frame. You knew what he wanted, why bother covering it for his sake? You checked yourself in the mirror of your hallway. No makeup, hair in a messy bun; not the picture of elegance and sex you tried to maintain around him.

He was breathless when you opened the door. His eyes searched your body and landed on your face as he sighed. He held so much light optimism in his eyes. You hoped he didn’t see the darkness plaguing your own.

“I miss you,” he whispered as he pulled into your embrace, holding you against him in an innocent hug. The door shut, and you stood in the hallway with the captor of your heart, soul, hugging him as if letting go meant he would disappear.

“What’s the matter, Tae?” You questioned, pulling back from his embrace to seek his eyes. “You never come over here.” Your face flushed. You were embarrassed. You felt more like his call-girl than the woman he claimed to love.

“I needed to see you, so fucking bad,” he pleaded. “I need to feel you again.”

His lips planted delicate kisses along your throat. Your eyes closed against the contact of his mouth on your skin.

You wanted to question him more, desperately ask him what had him acting so feverish, so obsessed.

“Can we go to your bedroom? I’ve always wanted to make love to you there,” he admitted, pulling away from your neck and resting his forehead against yours.

Make love.

The very words incinerated your gut.

“M-make love?” you babbled, confusion apparent.

He nodded. “You didn’t think I stopped loving you, now, have you?”

Instead of letting you answer, he pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was desperate, aching to draw you in, consume you, become one. You had never felt this level of passion from him, never felt so desperately wanted. You didn’t want to admit to yourself how thrilling it felt.

Could you pretend? Could you imagine that he was taking you to bed after spending all day with you, cooking and cleaning and enjoying your company? Would it hurt you in the end?

Did it matter? It all would hurt. You thought you may as well enjoy it in the meantime.

You could easily imagine the press of his lips as a kiss from your boyfriend, your husband, the father of your children. You had imagined it for years now. The ease in which your mind could slip into the fantasy was downright terrifying, but you found no resolve to stop.

“Let’s go,” you murmured, pulling him down the hallway and towards your bedroom. Taehyung stopped only a few moments, to take off his shoes, to press you against the wall to kiss you, to gaze at your bedroom decor.

He peered around the room, smiling at the pieces hung and framed on the walls. Photos of loved ones, framed artwork, a photo of him. A bouquet of roses hung upside down from the ceiling to preserve them, and Tae recognized it as the same he bought you the first time you met. You had been so full of excitement, never knowing that the promises the man would make would never come to fruition.

You sat at the edge of your bed and allowed Taehyung to absorb the room. He had known you for over 3 years now and still never seen your house, let alone your bedroom. A person’s bedroom was a glimpse into their soul, you believed. And it only made sense for Tae to know you, to consume you fully. You could not fight against him any longer. It hurt too much.

He turned towards you and slid forward, finding himself kneeling between your knees. He grasped your hands within his own.

It surprised you that Taehyung was not eager to undress you and slip inside you. He normally wasted no precious time.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. His brown eyes filled with unspoken regret. “I’ve treated you so poorly.”

You felt lost for words. He had never voiced this before, and you weren’t sure why he was now. Was he ill? Dying?

“Tae, you’re scaring me,” you admitted, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“No, please, I’m sorry,” he released a hand and cupped your face. “Please, don’t be frightened. I love you.”

Your bottom lip wobbled, tears threatening to spill over now.

“Please, let me show you,” he begged. “Let me prove to you my love.”

You wanted to explain that no amount of sex could prove his love, if it meant he left before dawn. But you couldn’t find it in you to voice it.

“Okay.”

He kissed at your thighs, innocent pecks around your knees and shins, before working back up towards your barely covered center. The robe danced on the tops of your thighs, and his deft fingers untied the belt to pull it off.

“It’s been so long, I’m so sorry,” he nearly wept as he pushed your thighs apart to expose what he sought. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

His penitent behavior was confusing, yes, but a balm to your aching wounds. Perhaps you could allow yourself to fully immerse in the vision of your beloved, your committed lover, making love to you.

“Taehyung,” you murmured, lifting his face to look at yours. “It’s okay.”

His eyes, filled with so much emotion and intention, slammed into you like a head on collision.

Taehyung continued his plight of kisses up and down your thighs. He gently pushed you down to lie on the bed and pulled your legs open even wider.

“Going to prove how much I love you,” he murmured, reminding himself as much as he was reminding you.

His lips pressed a gentle kiss to your folds, as if it were an innocent place to peck. Every move he made was full of sweet intention. He wasn’t here for a quick fuck. At least, that’s what you hoped. He was here to show his devotion in the way he best knew how to.

“Taeeee.” Your sigh was light and lovely to his ears.

“Let me adore you tonight, my love,” he murmured before diving in to kiss at your clit. It overwhelmed you immediately, missing the touch and skill of the man now devouring your core as if it were his last.

He dipped and swirled his tongue around the engorged numb, ravishing it with his tongue. You were so responsive, so sweet in his mouth and in his ears. You tasted like champagne. He adored that about you.

He pressed on, allowing himself to make love to your folds with his mouth with no abandon. He suckled your clit, massaged it with circular strokes, dipped a curious tongue in your wet channel, and slurped in such a vulgar way it had you gasping.

Tae was skilled with his mouth, he had proven that over the many years, but now he inhaled you. He left no part of your cunt untouched, unloved. His fingers slid into your heat to reach where his tongue could not. He needed to see you come undone by his love, alone.

You were so vocal in your replies to him. Soft screams, gasps, whimpers. You twisted at your nipples, desiring the stimulation that came from the pain. He watched you eagerly, mouth still working overtime to bring you to completion. You were artwork, the finest and most priceless. You deserved to feel beautiful, and loved and he desired to give you it and more on a silver platter.

“Right there,” you whispered through harsh pants. The edge of your orgasm was approaching, threatening to spill over. Tae refused to slow down, and engaged himself more acutely to your trembling quim. He sucked onto your clit harshly, swirling it in his mouth as he fucked you with three fingers. You coated him, completely. He wanted to leave your essence on him forever.

“Yes, cum,” he coaxed. “Cum for me, love.” His eyes were brimming with fire, with passion.

A zigzag motion of his tongue and quick curl of his finger towards your front walls sent you careening over the edge of pleasure. You cried out loud, tears slipping down your cheeks in sheer amazement of the sensation coursing through your veins, through your cunt. You milked him eagerly, muscles pulling his fingers in to you. You never wanted to retreat from your high, head spinning in the clouds. Your walls clenched in time to the pounding drum in your ears.

Tae lapped at the slick that coated his fingers, cleaning up any mess that might have been left on the sheets. He wanted every single ounce of you.

You came back to reality to find Tae sucking on his fingers, a salacious smile on his face as he continued without stopping.

“The sweetest,” he complimented, removing the cleaned fingers with a ‘pop’.

The prettiest blush Tae ever saw tickled your cheeks. He was determined to see that again before the night was through.

He kissed up the valley of your thighs and peppered kisses and bites to your abdomen and ribs. He marked you, feeling as if he was sacrificing to the pyre of your solicitude. He trailed to your breasts, sucking on the pinched nipples, encouraging more moans to slip through your pink lips.

Your hand immediately flew to his silken locks, threading through to grasp yourself to reality. Your chest still heaved with the aftershocks of powerful completion. He sucked and bit at the nipples so hard they darkened with bruises, blood blooming just under the surface of the skin. They told a story; you thought. A story of desperation, wanting to give a piece of you and maintain a piece of him.

You were desperate to get him naked, feel the satiny smooth skin of his chest and length. You tugged at his t-shirt and easily complied, allowed the material to slide up his chest and onto the floor. He kissed your lips, a hand still stroking and teasing a nipple.

Tae’s eye contact had you mesmerized. He was hypnotizing, and you were sure you’d never felt such an intense connection in any coupling you’d had together.

After discarding his shirt, you moved to tug at his jeans. Tae didn’t want to put up a fight tonight, didn’t want to tease out anything when he’d rather give in to you. He assisted you in your fight against the denim confines and pushed them down with his boxers.

Your eyes widened at his speed, knowing Taehyung aimed to make you work for his nakedness. Now, he gave in at your simplest request.

He couldn’t stop kissing your lips. He felt like he would cease breathing if he wasn’t attached to your mouth. He mumbled his love against you, his words circling your body and sliding into your cunt with how good they sounded. You were sure that Tae could coax an orgasm out of you with the rich baritone of his voice alone.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered and kissed at your cheeks and jaw. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to prove it.”

He guided his cock to your folds. He allowed the head to graze your slit, weeping with your first orgasmic ruin.

“I love you, Taehyung,” you murmured and kissed him soundly. At the touch of your lips, he slipped his cock inside your quim, tensing around him. He delighted in the gasp against his lips, feeling just as enthralled by the sensation. Your muscles squeezed around his length, wrenching a loud groan from him and pulling his lips away to watch the way your pussy took him. He wished he could take a video, commit this moment to memory somehow. The way you accepted him, allowed him respite inside the safety of your womb, captivated him and made him weak.

Taehyung started a quick thrusting rhythm, holding you tight against him as you mewled your satisfaction and confessed your undying ardor for the idol plunged in your depths.

“My sweet, I never want to leave you,” he whispered. “I would stay buried in you every single day if I could.”

His words hit you like a piercing arrow. A clean stab through you, no shrapnel, no fallout. If this was to be the way you died, you welcomed it with open arms.

Tae’s cock filled you to the brim and his gyrations made your clit feel as if it was vibrating. His thickness stretched you to the limit.

He looked back into your eyes, memorizing every freckle and feature of your face, and never allowed himself to break away from your gaze.

He loved you. He loved you so intensely it scared him. What started as a fun romp behind locked doors became the ultimate expression of his desire to complete you, to allow you to own his body and soul. You ensnared him, and Tae was loath to escape the silky tendrils you had wrapped around his heart.

He quickened his pace, angling his hips to hit the spot within you he knew would make you arch and keen for more. You did so, proving his theory, and gasped his name, begged for more. He trailed a finger over your combined coupling, feeling the way his cock speared into you and retreated, covered in your slick. He paused there, relishing in the feel, before slipping up to your clit to tease figure 8’s around the nub.

The pleasure coursing through you felt like an electrical storm. Every ounce of practiced pressure he applied to your body felt amplified, raging like thunder.

You wanted Tae’s cock to stay within you, never retreat, never escape. You gasped as his finger trailed over your clit and up and down your slit. Your eyes were bawling tears now, overwhelmed by desire and passion and unadulterated love. Tae had fucked you, Tae had given you nights of endless pleasure. Now, you knew, Tae was making love to you, with you. His member was not just fucking into you, but affixing all the pieces of your broken heart together again. He maintained eye contact with you, never straying. It was intense; it was exhilarating.

Kim Taehyung loved you. You no longer doubted it, no longer second-guessed. There were still too many unanswered questions, but you solved the largest piece. Taehyung was in love with you, and there was no way you would forget it.

Your orgasm was quickly approaching again, threatening to knock you over. You babbled his name, crying against his lips as he kissed you thoroughly.

“I love you, I love you,” he repeated, constantly. “Cum for me. Please cum for me.”

It was as if he only needed to ask, because your body complied immediately. Your back arched impossibly high as you rode through the contractions and pulses. Tae moaned with you, gasping at how tight you clamped around his cock, how deliciously you molded around his entire length. You looked beautiful, falling apart by him and him alone. You were his, as much as he was yours. He could never stray far for long.

Your pussy was overstimulated, incredibly so, but the desire to push Tae to his own end overpowered any other desire. You held his gaze intensely, rocking your hips to meet his.

“I’m in love with you, Tae,” you whined at his quick pace. “Please cum inside me. I want to feel you in me always.”

A guttural groan left his throat as he chased after it, a punishing speed thrusting into your spent heat. He could feel how wet you were now, two orgasms slicking around him and squelching loudly in the otherwise silent room. He wanted you full, not losing a drop of him. If he could stuff you full, and seal you up to save him forever, he would.

His orgasm took him quickly, with surprise. He emptied his load into you, and you cried at the warmth flooding your womb. You encouraged him, sighing out your pleasured approval.

He pulled himself out of you, cock softening rapidly. A trail of his seed followed, and Taehyung frowned. That wouldn’t do.

He slithered down your body, face to face with your abused cunt. He lapped at the mixed fluids with his tongue, pushing it into your cunt with the appendage.

“Need you full of me,” he murmured, savoring the taste of your combined love. “Keep it in you all night.”

He propped your hips with a pillow, lifting you so not to spill another ounce of him from within you. A deep down thought occurred that he wanted you pregnant, wanted to come home to you swollen with milk and children.

You cuddled up to him, wrapping your arms around him. You couldn’t remember being as happy as this before. A sense of contentment and elation wrapped around you like a soft blanket.

“I love you, I love you,” was all you heard before you drifted off to sweet, blissful sleep in the arms of your lover.

The bed was empty when you awoke. It had been made. The signature note laid gently, accusingly, on the pillow. You almost didn’t want to read it.

‘Meet me at the motel room we first met tonight at 9 pm. Xoxo’

It was the first time he had written without pouring out his love and adoration for you. The note was simple and without flowy prose.

It intrigued you.

You found yourself at the lowly, country inn on the side of the highway. It was in the middle of nowhere. You pressed your back against your car, throwing your cigarette down to smash it with your foot.

The room was unlocked when you twisted the handle.

Taehyung sat on the bed, forlorn and lost. He had never gotten to a room before you. He always ensured to be last.

He melted at the sight of you, composed facade crumbling in front of you. He approached you and cried into your neck. You held him, confused and concerned, raking your fingers through his hair as comfortingly as possible.

“I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so sorry,” he cried.

“Taehyung! What is going on!?”

He glanced up at you, his beautiful face marred by tears.

“My agency,” he croaked. “They know about us. They’re making me move from Seoul immediately. I don’t know when I can return.”

You felt your heart stop beating completely. The world stopped turning.

Agency. Found out? Had he been keeping you a secret to allow your romance to continue? He appeared devastated by the news. More than someone involved with a simple fuck buddy should be.

“Is-..is that why you always wanted to meet me at a motel?” You questioned, forcing yourself to breathe.

He nodded. “I tried so hard to protect you, I’m so fucking sorry.”

It all made sense. Didn’t it? Taehyung wasn’t hiding you away because he was ashamed of you. He hid you away, in the places no one would find you because he knew the consequences would be dire. He knew the reputation they forced him to maintain as an idol did not lend itself to a secret girlfriend. Careers had been ruined by it alone.

“Fuck,” you gasped, pulling the thin man up from your neck to look him in the eyes. “I thought you did it because you were ashamed of me.”

His eyes widened. Even when broken and crying, he still looked so beautiful.

“What? No! Oh, my god,” he gasped. It was all clicking into his mind too. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. You thought-... all this time that I was ashamed. That I was leaving you every morning because I didn’t want you? I thought you knew...”

You shook your head. He clung to you tighter.

“Oh, my god. And the notes.” He felt abysmal, guilt tearing at his throat. “I’m… fuck, I’m so sorry. You always told me you hated it when I left. I left before they would notice I was missing, and come to search for me. I couldn’t let them know about you. I couldn’t risk losing you. I can’t believe I’ve put you through this.”

You held onto Tae like your last lifeline. It all made sense now. All the whispered sonnets, murmured epithets of love and desire, devotion and romance, were true. He meant them all. While you stewed in your suffering, you didn’t realize that he was hiding you away until he could have you fully, completely, without fear of retaliation from agency or fan alike.

“I love you, Taehyung,” you whispered, kissing at his tear-streaked cheeks.

“I love you, too,” he replied.

You knew you’d never tire of hearing it.

Months later, you packed up your belongings from the dumpy motel room, shoving them into a suitcase.

Taehyung had fucked you on every surface of the room, the grimy bathtub, bent over the broken desk, against the sagging wallpapered wall.

You were sure you wouldn’t be able to walk. When you awoke, you felt the delicious tingle of pain between your thighs, body marked with his lovebites.

A note had laid on the pillow beside you as you opened your eyes and rubbed the sleep from them. The bed was made on his side. The room was empty.

‘Left to grab coffee. Pack up and let’s go home when I get back. Love you forever.’

You exited the room and closed the door behind you, smiling at the sound of the clicking lock.

You glanced back at it; the room holding too many memories of heartbreak and passion. It was impossible to distinguish between the two. They intertwined like lovers.

Taehyung appeared beside you, hand slipping into yours as he handed you a steaming paper cup of coffee.

“You ready?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Ready,” you agreed.

You drove from the motel, back towards the towering skyline of Seoul, away from the degenerate motel room.

The room that would never see the two of you again and always remain

vacant.

#bangtanarmynet #heartsforbts #minthlynet #bts smut #bts angst #ppersonna writes #bts taehyung #bts v #bts kim taehyung #bts fanfic

488 notes · View notes

reversecreek · 4 years ago

Note

lily for magda (thinking about figs feeling evil), tulip for cricket, marigold for ziggy, chrysanthemum for bradley, belladonna for nyla

lily : how does your muse view their mother ?

magda doesn’t know a lot abt her mum. she knows vague snippets n details bt they’re all very elusive. it’s kind of a tricky subject where her mum’s concerned bc when she was younger she’d come up w all these assumptions abt how her mum was n who she’d be if she were with her but the rational part of magda was like..... u don’t know any of this. ur literally making things up. it’s kind of hard for a kid to have that vital person missing from their life n to resist the urge to fill in the blanks with their own projections so the space feels less empty. it’s like having a tooth missing n ur tongue always going back to poke at the spot in ur gum. there’s a constant reminder of loss in that. magda knows her mum liked to sing bc her dad said once she’d always sing to her belly when she was pregnant. this is a lot of the reason why magda has always cared so much abt music bc she took this fact in her fist n grasped it tight n never let go n in a way grew parts of herself around it. it’s like............. i feel like her mum dying in childbirth gave her lots of issues when it comes to her identity n like. who she is n who she wants to be.......... bc of magda’s issues w her dad i feel like she got into this habit growing up of rly putting who her mum could have been on a pedestal n basing everything around that.... she’d be like I’m More Like Her (a belief which was only accelerated bc her dad would drunkenly say she looked so much like her) n cling onto that so she liked herself more bc the other option was her dad who she loves but he’s also an incredibly flawed person n they hv a complicated relationship...... i think as she’s gotten older she’s realised her mum cld very well have been that way too n putting people on pedestals isn’t the way to go about things but. idk. as a kid she was kind of obsessed w this idea of her n this idea that her mum being gone was the beginning n end of everything wrong in her life. for the most part now magda accepts she never knew her n sometimes even feels stupid for grieving her at all bc she never knew her to grieve in the first place but. there’s a tiny part of magda tht still hangs on to the comfort of what she could have had n it’s obvious by the fact she still keeps a photograph of her folded up in her pillow. she loves the mum she made up in her head n she wishes she got to meet her. there’s this sense tht maybe then she wouldn’t feel like this culmination of missing parts more than a person if she’d had that in her life. sighs n lks away holding my dyed black emo bang.....

tulip : how does your muse view people in general ?

cricket is like. the strangest little anomaly of a person FGHKSFGHSFKGH bc like. u would rly think that after everything he’s been thru he would just have this absolutely jaded view of people and life in general and i wouldn’t even......... blame him for it if he did like. i’d understand completely bc he’s experienced A Lot of bad stuff. n yet somehow he just.... idk. i think i wrote in a reply once this comparison of cricket n a cockroach in the sense that they have this incredibly reinforced exoskeleton n even if they’re stomped flat they can keep living n bounce back from it n that’s very him but it’s more specifically the hope inside him. he has this little candle lit that good things can still happen midst all of the terrible things n i genuinely can’t see it snuffing out at any point even tho sometimes he might want it to. sometimes i think he even gets into these frames of mind where it jst infuriates the fk out of him bc in his head he’s like why do u even think good shit can happen when u have sm overwhelming evidence to the contrary but then he’s also like. look u can dwell on the bad or u can notice the way the light falls thru the leaves in the trees and u can think to urself inside ur head as u listen to someone u love talking abt something that makes them happy ‘hey this feeling is nice n there’s a dozen others like it’. idk. against all odds he’s an optimist. he has tinnitus in his left ear n sometimes he pretends the ringing is angels trying to talk to him. he likes to search for the silver linings in things to make them bearable n that’s how he gets by. obviously he knows there’s evil in the world n that a lot of people can be shit bc he has firsthand experience w that but he also believes there are people to serve as the antithesis to that n he wants to focus on them bc like. why give bad stuff the time of day. not necessarily always a positive coping mechanism (if u bottle up bad feelings n thoughts they leak thru one way or another aka his overwhelming anxiety) but like.... i think there’s a lot of bravery in that n i respect him for it i won’t lie. he cld have become very bitter bt instead he’s like that quote that’s like 'the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it'. suddenly slaps his little anxious rump (supportive) (affectionate)

marigold : is your muse prone to jealousy ? how might they handle envious feelings ?

it’s hard to say w ziggy............... i feel like he doesn’t want to think he’s prone to jealousy bc he’s like i’m literally a god wdym i simply wld never give a fk bc i know i’m above all else................. but like. do u actually believe that ziggy. do u. FKGJHKSJGHFGSHFGKSHGKFHG. he’s good at convincing himself at least........... has me fooled too most of the time. bt. thinks abt this.............. i feel like he doesn’t tend to get jealous over ppl he hooks up w a lot of the time bt there’s definitely a few select ppl he might.......... n then he doesn’t rly know what that feeling is bc he’s so unused to feeling it so he’s like wtf why am i so fking pissed off over the thought of this person fking that person? like literally doesn’t even. connect the dots n make the logical conclusion bc it jst seems so bizarre n nonsensical to him. rly is awful at working out his own feelings like. he cld just suddenly explode one day n have to smash a bunch of shit in a junkyard n after his chest is heaving n he has all this broken stuff around him n he’s just like yo wtf was that man forreal lmfaoooooooooo..... like he just doesn’t even get how his own emotions work it’s tragic n it’s men for u. w anxious feelings he represses them a lot he doesn’t rly understand what they r or know how to recognise them........... i honestly feel like he has a lot of anxiety surrounding his mum esp w her dating n like some of the guys they’ve both had to deal w that she’s dated in the past.......... i doubt he processes that healthily or expresses it healthily either..... probably contributes to the tensions between him n his mum they hv a lot of underlying issues that come out in the form of bickering n petty disagreements...... probably a huge contributor to him acting out so terribly in high skl was just all this pent up worried energy with no means of making sense of itself or like. place to go. like shaking a coke bottle over n over n finally having to crack the lid n let it fizz on something. i also think he probably swallowed a lot of jealousy growing up whenever other kids had gd relationships w their fathers or parents in general probably ws kind of like lmfaooooo yo why don’t mine love me like that. in his head...... so ya. i think he copes w anxious feelings by acting out n also fucking if we’re being honest......... it helps him let off steam <3 king of clapping cheeks ig....

chrysanthemum : how does your muse express romantic love ? how do they feel about love as a concept ?

bradley is kind of hard to read romantically like from an outside perspective but slides on my thin rimmed spectacles n picks up my scalpel to delve right in to the nitty gritty of her brain... omg... that sounded... kind of scary actually but. it’s ok. basically settles in. bradley struggles to verbalise her feelings in this regard but also in a general sense honestly.... like she’s spent a lifetime having any vulnerable or negative feeling shut down....... her dad’s the type of personality where it’s like... u can’t win. even tho he’s narcissistic n thinks he’s a god if u compliment him or express affection he’ll act pleased but there’ll also be this register in his eyes where he thinks less of u for it. so this rly had a domino effect in bradley’s emotional expression in all grounds of life...... romance is probably the most frivolous concept to tony so bradley definitely internalised some of these views n wld feel stupid for ever taking anything seriously in that regard or rly investing herself..... she also just. idk. love has only ever left bite marks in bradley’s world so she’d kind of like ‘why wld i ever expose my tender spots n open myself up to someone just so they can sink their teeth in’. i will say tho that like. despite that she can in rare instances develop those feelings n it’s always like..... quite a struggle for her when she does. she doesn’t rly understand it or how to deal w it. she finds talking about it hard n she feels childish or weak in the eyes of whoever knows how she’s feeling. it takes a long time n a lot of work to earn it bt bradley in love is like. ur the only person on the planet who knows how gentle she can b. she’d literally like. touch the face of this one guy i wrote her being in love w when he was sad so gently it was shocking it ws like a love tht deep unlocked a whole other part of her she didn’t know existed. sex is a big part of her love expression jst like. a lot of it. so much. JHGSFKHGSFGKHFKGSHG let’s get it.......... she’s a ride or die n doesn’t do anything in halves. she has a nasty habit of pushing good things away n also wld probably do this to protect the other person bc her world is a never ending shit show with her father’s presence in every room even when he isn’t physically there. she wldn’t wna subject someone she loved to the danger of that bc she hates it enough herself so. idk. smiles w hand on hip. love isn’t something bradley thinks is on the menu fr her bc she’s only ever known it to be hard or mean n why bother trying when that’s the case. it feels like there’s always small print attached tht will hurt her in the end n nothing is free or genuine. very doomed outlook on love in general tbh.

belladonna : how does your muse respond to silence ? do they take comfort in soundlessness , or seek to fill the void with noise ?

nyla honestly doesn’t mind silence at all........ they always wake up rly early in the morning no matter what time they went to bed. it’s like someone programmed an oven timer into their brain n often when they wake up at 6am or something they’ll go on walks around irving tottering in their own little world which is quite a quiet experience in itself when the rest of the world’s asleep........... always off on impromptu adventures they came up w on the spot.......... sometimes they get lost in their own train of thought too so they just randomly fall silent bc they’re having a whole conversation w themselves inside their head or like. writing a whole children’s story abt an iguana in a trench coat floating in a hot air balloon smoking a little vintage pipe all the way to peru. honestly for every 1 thing nyla says there’s about 4987295749572592745 things they don’t say tht are x100 times stranger n more nonsensical they sort of let it all drift thru their head like an open sieve for the most part. having said tht i think in order to sleep at night they probably need some sort of white noise or smthn................. it’s handy living in a beach house bc they just leave the window open to let the ocean gush bt sometimes if they’ve snuck into like. mido’s bed fr the night or someone’s bed idk the sound of them breathing works too................. they used to always sleep w bob ross playing on loop n that was rly comforting to them esp bc he reminds them a lot of their dad w his calming voice n energy.............. sometimes they’d have taken smthn n they’d literally hallucinate it as their dad instead of bob ross n this happened so many times in a row fr a period of time tht when they finally watched it sober they were like wtf since when did they recast my dad in this show...... KJHFGSHFGKSHFKGH but also. frowns... bit sad considering.

#magda | memes #cricket | memes #ziggy | memes #bradley | memes #nyla | memes #death tw #grief tw #anxiety tw #fortyfivcs #drugs tw #abuse tw #i think thts all tws theyre like not covered in detail obviously bt still #i put under read more bc i wrote literal essays fr everything idk what happened to me....#also thank u fr the ask sexy :yum:

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gingerwritess · 6 years ago

Note

hEY can u do a drunk reader thingie + loki where he takes her home after worrying and reader accidentally confesses?? morning aftermath as well sorry if this is too close to the drunk!loki one and if its too unoriginal kjaksjskjs

Summary: you have a little too much to drink and set your sights on a certain god, and loads of chaos and perfectly awkward situations ensue.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff? bad words?

A/N: this is my first time besides Heat Wave writing for not-yet-dating Loki x reader, and i loved it sm, and got a little carried away. so enjoy this one shot!

also i didn’t proof-read or edit so i apologise in advance have a nice cute gif of loki’s murder strut instead

You and alcohol don’t exactly make the greatest pair.

You and alcohol and an extremely attractive god don’t exactly make the greatest trio, either.

But here you are, strutting over to Loki like you own the place; you’re only a couple drinks in and already have made up your mind that this one, this crazily beautiful god isn’t going to slip out of your grasp. You’ve been chasing after him for too long, and it’s too obvious how he’s chasing you too, right? Right?

Your ankles have decided otherwise.

The moment you shout his name and he glances over at you, you’re flat on your ass and there’s a watermelon margarita dripping down your front—and the Asgardian is laughing.

He laughs but walks over to help you up, extending a hand you too eagerly take. Oh…his hands are something out of a dream. It’s just a simple hand to help you up, but his long fingers curl around your wrist and they’re cold, wonderfully cold against your heated skin.

Good god, if you don’t want to hold that hand for the rest of eternity…

“I…I think I just fell for you,” you giggle breathlessly when he pulls you to your feet. “Get it? Cause I fell? I fell for y—”

“Yes, yes, I get it,” he laughs, steering you back to the bar and helping you into a seat. You immediately reach for a menu to order another drink, but Loki places a gentle hand on yours to stop you; your heart nearly stops. “Might you consider something non-alcoholic? Some water, perhaps?”

“No thank you, sir.” You shake your head and cross one leg over the other, trying your best to look put together. “I feel great. Another marrrr-grita please!”

“Absolutely not. We’ll have water, thank you,” he tells the bartender, catching you with a hand on your waist when you nearly fall out of your chair from whirling around to glare at the god for ordering for you. “This is for your own good, trust me.”

“M’not drunk! I only had…had…” you try to count on your fingers, furrowing your brow when you can’t seem to remember what comes after three.

“I believe the number you’re looking for is four,” Loki chuckles and hands you a glass of water, making sure your grip on it is tight before he lets go. “Drink up—no, don’t you dare dump it out—you’ll feel better after this.”

“But I feel great,” you slur and take a messy gulp of water, trying to talk with your mouth full and only dribbling water all down your chin. “I feel like I could take on the world, and—and—ooo Loki, you’re wearing a white shirt!!”

The god raises a confused eyebrow at you and nods, glancing down at the white button up he had chosen to wear to this little gathering, something different from the dark and most likely leather he generally finds himself wearing. He hadn’t thought much of the choice, but the fact that you noticed him doing something differently sends a funny feeling to the pit of his stomach—maybe he should change things up more often.

“Yes, I am, wonderful observation. Here.” He hands you a napkin to dry off your face, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You should be getting home, don’t you th—what in sweet Valhalla are you doing?!”

You’ve just reached over to his seat and dumped your entire cup of water onto his chest. “Makin’ you sexy, that’s what,” you declare, rubbing the water around his shirt to make sure it covers every inch of his torso. “See? Now it’s see-through.”

Loki’s heart is beating a little too fast for his liking at the feeling of your curious hands all over his chest. It was completely out of the blue, what you’ve just done, and extremely inappropriate…right?

But now you’re staring, because his shirt is see-through, and things are looking incredible.

“I didn’t know you have abs, Loki!”

Yes, you’re staring shamelessly and he wants to shrink under the wonder filling your gaze as you take in his much too exposed stomach, raking your eyes from his perfect collarbone down to the little dips on his hips forming a beautiful ‘v’ and he can tell your gaze is only getting lower—

“You should take me home, big boy.”

He almost spits out his water at your blatant request, already feeling much too open to your, ah…interest than he’s used to. To take you home, in this state? Even though you had literally just asked him, and even with how…tempting you look in this elegantly disheveled state, he pushes the very thought out of his mind and shakes his head.

“No, no, that’s not a good idea,” he laughs nervously, quickly turning away from you so you can’t stare at his chest any longer. “You’re not yourself, and I couldn’t possibly take advantage of you like this.”

“But I asked!”

“Yes, but—no. You’ll only regret it, trust me.” He looks around for whoever is responsible for you, whoever let you reach this state of drunkenness and left you alone like an idiot, but he can’t find anyone.

“I just wanna go home,” you whine softly, dropping your head onto the bar top. “If you won’t take me home, can you call me an Uber?”

Loki freezes, heat rushing to his face as he realises he might have misunderstood your previous question. “Wait…you want me to take you home?”

“Yes please. I’m startin’ to get dizzy.”

“Just…just to see you home safely?”

You give him a puzzled look and hop off your barstool, wobbling slightly and grabbing his arm to steady yourself. “Yeah…? What else would you do?”

Then you see his blushing face staring at you and your drunken mind fills in the gaps.

“OH! Ew, Loki, no, I don’t want you to ‘take me home’ and like, sleep with me or somethin’.” You shake your head and burst into a fit of giggles just at the thought—nervous, drunk giggles.

Nervous? Terrified, really, because the thought of him ‘taking you home’ is definitely appealing—and you can’t imagine what you would do if he ever discovered that.

Relief floods Loki’s mind, but there’s also a hint of embarrassment and—oh god—that’s not…disappointment, is it?

If he hadn’t just signed himself up to take care of you, he‘d get himself a drink too; gods know he needs it if these are the thoughts that a drunk mortal can put in his head.

“Let’s get you home, then,” he chuckles nervously and puts a tentative hand on the small of your back to lead you to the door—you immediately tense up when his hand touches you and he feels it.

He yanks his hand away and it drops to his side, and he can’t bring himself to look you in the eye. “Let’s just get outside,” he mutters, cursing himself for even thinking to touch you. “Then I can get you to your place in seconds.”

“No! Nooo, Loki, no magic portal thingys.” You shake your head and twirl your fingers around your ears, making the god give you a strange look. “Makes me feel a little loco. I might puke if we travel through space.”

He wants to disagree and insist on using the “magic portal thingys” to get you home and away from him as fast as possible. He needs you out of his hands now, because for some horrifying reason, the way you spun your fingers around your head and stuck your tongue out to mime “crazy”…was strangely adorable.

His heart, the cursed thing, needs to stop this right now.

“That way. Quickly, now, let’s go.” He points to the door and starts to walk away from you, trusting you to follow on your own. But the first step has your head spinning and you shout his name and grab his arm, looking around wildly until the seven Lokis you were seeing become one again.

He’s reaching for you right away, giving you his arm and steadying you with his other hand on you waist. “Easy, darling, walk slowly,” he says, worried eyes meeting yours. “You may be in a worse condition than I thought.”

“Darling?” You giggle, squeezing his bicep lightly—oooh, nice—and slipping into a revoltingly awful, exaggerated royal accent. “Ah, my prince, please do escort me to thy carriage! I, your darling, have consumed too much alcohol—” you’re overcome by a fit of hysterical, breathless giggles as you hang on to Loki’s arm, hiccuping and following him out the door. “—way too much booze and…and…wow, Loki! Stand right there!”

He looks like something straight out of a dream.

Minus the confused look on his face, of course. You tug his arm to get him to stop walking, then step away from him to take in the view. Your jaw is practically on the ground, but you really don’t care; the way the moon is hitting his jawline is the most beautiful masterpiece you’ve ever seen, and his shirt is still wet and thankfully see-through.

That was a good decision, tequila brain.

“You’re so…so pretty,” you sigh dreamily, holding up your hands to frame his shocked and confused and beautiful face. “I kinda really wanna kiss you.”

Whoops.

Maybe tequila brain needs to put a lid on it.

Loki just smiles at you, almost sadly, and points to the waiting car. “No, you don’t. Now get in the car, I won’t make you go through any ‘magic portal thingys’ tonight.”

“And you’re such a gentleman, too,” you giggle and run back to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the car. “The whooooole package.”

This is getting ridiculous—and extremely painful for the god being pulled in the backseat of a little silver car by your much too bold and delightfully warm hands. His heart hasn’t stopped pounding since you had grabbed hold of his arm, holding onto him for dear life, as if he can protect you, as if you trust him.

Just the thought of that is terrifying.

But you sidle up next to him in the backseat as the car starts moving, because it just feels like the right thing to do, and his damp shirt and cool skin is so perfectly refreshing…you lay your head on his shoulder and scoot closer, your knees knocking together.

You’re not talking, surprisingly, and Loki can’t breathe. Your head is laying so gently against his shoulder, so close he can feel you moving with every breath, every blink. He can’t move a muscle; he needs you to stay there as long as possible. You’ve chosen him, regardless of your state of being, and he’s terrified that the slightest movement might make you lift your head and sit up.

When you reach for his hand, he almost screams. You don’t hold it, necessarily, rather you just take his hand in yours and start studying it, running a finger over the lines in his palm.

“Why’re you shaking?”

“Nervous habit,” he answers curtly. Pulling his hand away might be the best idea, because you’ve begun to place your hand against his to compare sizes and your hand is just so warm, too warm.

“Well, y’got nice hands, Loki,” you mumble, and suddenly the car is much too comfortable. Eyelids drifting shut in a matter of seconds, you barely realise that you’ve slipped your fingers between his and tightly closed them around his hand.

You seem to be quite comfortable, but for Loki, the rest of the car ride is pure agony. His hand is still wide open, palm to the ceiling and refusing to curl his fingers back around your fist—but he’s itching to. He wants to hold your hand, desperately, to run his thumb across your knuckles as you drift into a content, alcohol-induced sleep on his shoulder, but he keeps his hand flat and just lets you hold his hand.

You’re drunk, he reminds himself over and over again, you’re drunk and not thinking in any way intelligently. You won’t remember this, and you probably don’t even realise what you’re saying or doing or for that matter, who’s hand you are clinging to for dear life.

Loki breathes a chuckle, a quiet, disbelieving laugh at his own stupidity. Really? A mortal? And an inebriated one, at that?

His chest lifts with the chuckle and rouses you from your sleep, your mind just as foggy as before. You sit up and blink to clear your eyes, and Loki’s heart falls—Norns, this is getting out of control.

“Wait a minute…” you gasp and stare at your still connected hands, the many drinks from earlier making your mind fill with dreams of holding his hand and what that could possibly mean, the thought getting you waaay too excited. “Are we a thing now?! Oh my god, Loki…what are we?! Are you my boyfriend now?”

“I consider us acquaintances,” he blurts out too quickly, trying to change the subject. “Some would go far enough to say even friends.”

“What’s wrong with friends? I like being friends! Let’s be friends, Loki!” You’re beaming at him, the prospect of actually being with him obviously exciting you, and he pries his hand from your grip.

Trying to ignore the hurt confusion on your face and how you reach for his hand again, he moves away from you to lean against the car door. “I’m not particularly fond of the term.”

“Why? You don’t have friends?” You scoot closer to him and try to grab his hand, but he crosses his arms and glances out the window.

“‘Friendship’ is only something for me to lose.”

“So dramatic,” you giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, practically laying on him. “Chin up, buttercup, you look like you need a hug.”

The nonsense spilling from your mouth has another amused smile tugging painfully at his lips, one he fights along with the desire to wrap his arms around you and just hold you close. You’re already too close, with your arms around his neck and leaning against his chest, and you’re right—he would love nothing more than to hug you back.

Thankfully the Uber pulls into your driveway and Loki can finally be rid of you to clear his head of these insane…feelings. But you jump out of the car and grab his hand, pulling him out after you and begging him to come inside, and he finds it impossible to refuse.

“Just for a minute,” you promise, fumbling with your keys. “You don’t have to stay long—oh, but I’ve got ice cream! Have you tried ice cream? Let’s have ice cream—”

“Give me those.” He laughs and takes the keys from your distracted hand, putting a hand on the doorknob and it promptly clicks open. This is for the better, for your safety, he tells himself as he follows your happy skipping into your apartment.

“Chocolate or vanilla?” You yell and immediately rush to the freezer, bringing out two cartons of ice cream and grabbing a spoon. “Never mind. Both.”

Loki’s standing uncomfortably by the front door, looking around at your little home and picking at his hands. He looks a little nervous—nothing ice cream can’t fix.

“Over here,” you call and wave him over, flopping down criss-cross on the couch and digging in to the first carton of ice cream. “Hurry up,” you slur around a mouthful, “m’gonna eat it all before you get any.”

“Are you sure that is the best idea…?” He reluctantly sits down next to you, concern in his eyes as he watches you shovel down spoonful after spoonful. “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“But it’s so good,” you practically moan, and the god’s cheeks turn bright red; the last thing he needs right now is a sound like that coming from your beautiful mouth and ingraining itself in his imagination.

“Try it.” Now you’re shoving the spoon up against his tightly pressed together lips, smearing the cold ice cream across his face. “Try it, just tryyy it, Loki. Open your mouth.”

He just stares at you, not moving, keeping his mouth firmly shut. That is your spoon, it was just in your mouth, and now you want to feed him with the same utensil? You just keep grinning and trying to slip the spoon between his lips, completely oblivious to the suggested intimacy of your actions.

It’s clear you have no intention of stopping until he eats the ice cream, so Loki takes the spoon from you with a sigh and quickly eats the ice cream off of it, trying his hardest not to think about the fact that he just shared a spoon with a mortal—and didn’t really mind.

“Yay!” You squeal and grab the spoon back out of his hands to get yourself another heaping bite. “It’s good, right?”

“Exquisite,” Loki halfheartedly agrees, his stomach churning at the sickly sweet and cold taste lingering in his mouth. His eyes are trained on your face, specifically your lips; despite all his attempts to distract himself, the only coherent thought running through his mind is how divine you must taste, with the ice cream still fresh on your lips and your tongue—

“Stop that,” he growls, ripping his gaze from your mouth.

But you don’t even hear him talking to himself, because your drunken mind is too busy with the exact same train of thought. The spoon falls limply out of your hand as you slip into a trance watching his tongue dart out over his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows, the way his jaw tightens for a moment when he notices you staring.

Were you supposed to not kiss him? To not fling the carton of ice cream to the floor and pounce on him, knocking him onto his back and crashing your lips into his? I mean…you had to. And yes, he does taste incredible.

The only problem is that he’s not kissing you back. Even though it’s taking every ounce of self control for him to not pull you into his lap and lose himself completely in your drunken lips, and you do taste divine, so sweet, so warm…

“Stop, please stop,” he murmurs and gently pushes you away from him, resisting the urge to lick his lips just to taste you again. You pull away with a quiet gasp, your eyes still closed and lips pursed, slowly growing into the happiest smile he’s ever seen on your face. “Darling, you just kissed me.”

“Hell yeah.”

Loki laughs at that, tipping your chin up to look at him as you open your bright eyes. “No, you just kissed me. Loki.”

“Perrrrrfect,” you slur, leaning towards him again and closing your eyes. A cold finger on your lips shakes you from the trance of that first half-kiss and you open your eyes with a quiet noise of protest.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he tells you gently, a sad smile on his perfect lips. “You don’t want this. You’re drunk, you’re not thinking correctly.”

“Nuh uh. I want you,” you whisper, fumbling around in his lap for his hand. He can’t bring himself to pull his hand away when you lift it up and press your palm flat against his, placing each of your fingers to his. “I wanna kiss you forever, and hold your hand all the time, and hug you whenever I want, and—”

“That’s enough.” He puts his hands on your shoulders and shushes you, wishing you would stop talking. These ideas are just too painful to hear. “It’s me. You’re talking to me, I’m Loki. I don’t think you realise what you are saying.”

“I know that, genius,” you giggle, reaching for him. “You’re Loki and I’m me, and together we’re perrrfect.”

“No, we’re not. You don’t want any part of me, trust me.” The god can’t bear to look at you anymore, because your eyes are too enchanting and your smile is too addicting, even with these alcohol-induced lies spilling from your mouth. He gives you a reassuring smile and stands up, picking up the ice cream carton and spoon you had thrown to the side before kissing him. “I should leave soon, can you get yourself cleaned up?”

“Good idea, I wanna put my comfy sweats on! Just need to take this off…” you reach behind you to unzip your dress, your face scrunched up in concentration as you rearrange your arms to try and reach it. “I can’t—reach—Lokiiiii, help me.”

You throw your hands in the air with a groan and turn around, presenting Loki with your back, and he swallows hard at the sight. The zipper reaches from your shoulder bones all the way down to just above your ass, stopping in the curve of your spine. He can’t do this, hell no, his heart is pounding just looking at the task you asked him to do.

“Your hands are shakin’ again.”

Loki curses and the zipper slips out of his hands, which are most definitely shaking, because he’s trying so hard to get this over with but the zipper just caught on something underneath your dress.

Something black and lacy.

“Oh for the love of…” he promptly rips the zipper the rest of the way down, cursing under his breath and immediately shooting his gaze to the ceiling. This is getting out of hand, and he needs to leave you now, for your own good more than anything.

Luckily you thank him and bounce off to your room, the unzipped dress flapping open as you run. Loki runs a hand over his face with a groan, glad the worst of it is over—then you start lifting the dress over your head with the door wide open.

He flings a hand towards your door and it slams shut, only to be followed by your amazed “wow! More magic thingys!” and he drops onto the couch, head in his hands. This whole night has taken a turn for the worse, and despite his best efforts otherwise, he finds himself undeniably attracted to this weak, stupid, drunk mortal.

For the first time in his life there’s something disgustingly warm spreading through his chest as his mind wanders back to how you had kissed him, even under a layer of alcohol, how you had said so honestly that you wanted to hold his hand?

He’s overstayed his welcome. Standing near the door, he can hear you humming quietly to yourself as you shuffle around the room, reassuring him that you’re okay. He sets the dirty spoon in the sink and puts the ice cream back in your freezer, straightening the grocery list stuck to the metal door. There’s blank sheets behind the list and a pen connected to it, and Loki takes them down and writes you a quick note.

By the time he’s finished, there’s only silence coming from your room and he carefully opens the door to peek inside; you’re fast asleep, thankfully wearing pants—the hem of your t shirt has ridden up and Loki quickly tugs it down to cover your skin. You don’t exactly look comfortable, one leg bent and hanging off the side of your bed, with an arm crossed over your face as you snore.

How in all the nine realms do you still look so ethereal?

Loki can’t help but smile at you. You are, for lack of a better word, adorable, and he subconsciously brings his finger up to brush over his lip—you had felt so right against his lips and he almost wants to…no. No, no, no.

He lifts your leg onto the bed and pulls the covers over you, hanging up your discarded dress and setting his little note under the glass of water on you bedstand, refilling the cup with a wave of his hand.

“Goodnight, little mortal,” he whispers, hesitantly hovering a hand over yours. “I hope you don’t remember any of this.”

Then he gives your hand a light squeeze and is gone, leaving only a faint green glow settling around your room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Okay…at least you wake up in bed alone, thank all that is holy.

Alone save for a million regrets and a pounding headache. Somehow you had gotten home safely last night, Tony must have called you a cab or something. Sitting up with a groan, you stretch and—wait a minute.

Loki.

Oh my god. Flashes of last night flood your mind and there are a million scenarios that you aren’t sure really happened or were just dreamed up by your drunk mind…you’re never drinking tequila again.

Your dress is hanging neatly on the back of your closet door, and you definitely were not the one to have done that. You’re wearing your sweats and an old t shirt…oh hell no. Did Loki change you??

That was not the way you would have ever wanted him to see you half-naked for the first time. Not drunk and messy and doing god knows what, saying who knows what, but there’s no going back now…

At least he’s not laying naked in your bed.

Actually…maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing. Wait, no, no thinking things like that!

You fall back onto the pillows, rubbing your throbbing temples and trying desperately to remember what happened. Besides the headache, you don’t feel too terrible; a little parched, maybe, and your lips feel kinda funny.

Reaching for the cup of water you keep by your bedside, you notice a piece of paper tucked underneath—the cup has been refilled as well, the water still cold. The writing on the note is frankly beautiful; small, tight loops in the lettering give it that perfect touch of messiness for added character. You check the bottom of the slip and—oh god—it’s from Loki.

“Good morning, mortal,” it reads, “don’t worry. You dressed yourself behind a closed door and I sat in a different room.”

Oh thank goodness.

You requested that I see you home safely, and we took a car (we had a third driver, neither of us were—are—fit to drive) to your home. You begged me to stay and try what you call “ice cream,” which we then sat on the couch and ate to our heart’s content.

Fantastic. You had a drunk date with a god and ate ice cream.

You thankfully fell asleep on your bed, so I left you there, made sure your doors were locked, put the ice cream away, and left. Thank you for the ice cream; that is an incredible midgardian creation and I hope someday you will show me where I can find some of my own.

I left you breakfast on the table. Take the day, rest, and I’ll be back to check on you soon. Thank you for the…entertaining night, and call for me if you need anything at all.

If there is anything you remember from last night that you wish for me to forget, say the word and I will have no memory of it.

-Loki

Anything you want him to forget?

It all comes back to you at once. The water, that disgustingly attractive white shirt, the car ride—the car ride?! For some reason, you remember just being close to him, and you rack your brain to try and remember what happened.

You held his hand. Oh no, no no no. He’s not supposed to know any of that, anything about how you might feel for him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Loki’s note clutched tight in your hand, you drag yourself out of bed and into the kitchen. Sure enough, there’s a plate of some kind of sliced bread sitting on your counter. It smells delicious, crumbly and sweet and unlike anything you’ve ever eaten before—it must be Asgardian. You scarf all of it down without hesitation, and immediately your throbbing headache subsides, your head clears, and memories start to trickle back into your mind.

You glance around the kitchen and see a dirty spoon in the sink, and suddenly there’s the weirdest tingling sensation in your lips as your head starts spinning. Bringing a hand up to gingerly feel your lips, your heart starts pounding and it all clicks: you kissed him.

No idea what the deal is with that spoon, but oh my god, you definitely kissed Loki last night.

“If there is anything you remember from last night that you wish for me to forget…”

The thought has barely processed through your panicked mind when you hear a gentle knock on the door, rattling you from your thoughts. You rush to the door and crack it open to see the last person in the world you want to see right now standing on your porch: the god you kissed and ate ice cream with while you were drunk off your ass.

“Good morning,” he says, a little too cheerfully. And oh my god, he’s wearing another white shirt, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “May I come in?”

“Um…no.” You push the door almost completely closed, just barely peeking out at him from behind the door. Like hell he can come in, looking like that?! “Sorry, I’m like, really sick.”

Loki raises an eyebrow and puts a hand on the door. “I’m nearly certain that’s impossible. Did you eat what I left you?”

“…maybe.”

“Then it is impossible for you to be sick.” He smiles at you and your hand slips off the doorknob. “That particular grain can cure the simplest of ailments, the most common of which would be those caused by…a certain level of drunkenness.”

“Loki, I’m so sorry,” you start rambling, opening the door and stepping back to let him in. “Thank you for taking care of me, um, I’m really, really so sorry you had to deal with my drunk ass—”

“Oh, hush. I’ve dealt with worse.” He steps inside and closes the door behind him, turning around only to find you right in front of his chest, much too close. “I—sorry.”

You both immediately back away from each other, casting your gazes anywhere but at one another, and you notice Loki has a plastic bag one hand partially hidden behind his back. “Um…whatcha got there?”

Loki blinks and glances at the bag, then gives you a sheepish grin. “It’s, uh, ice cream. You seemed to enjoy it last night, and I thought it might make you feel better?”

Crap, there goes your heart again.

“Wow. Thank you, Loki, that’s-that’s super sweet.” Words don’t seem to be working very well for you right now, so you just wrap your arms around yourself and wave him inside to the kitchen, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

You kissed this guy.

He follows you as you pad into the kitchen, bare feet shuffling across the floor to drop you into a chair at the little table in the corner, and you carefully start sipping your water to try to get some moisture back in your dry throat.

Loki stands uncomfortably in the middle of the kitchen for a moment, holding the bag of ice cream and looking around in confusion. “Where would you like me to put this?”

“Break that baby out, I’m hungry,” you mumble over the rim of your cup, eyes squeezed shut in exhausted pain and you wave a hand at a top shelf in one of the cabinets. “Bowls’re up there.”

He doesn’t move and just stares at you for a bit, opening and closing his mouth as if he’s about to say something. You can only imagine what he has to say to you after last night, and you’d rather just get it out of the way. “Come on, get it out. I can handle it,” you sigh.

He’s so cute when he plays oblivious. “What?”

“We kissed, didn’t we?” You set down your cup with a bang and risk a glance at his face, only to find his face a little more flushed than usual. “Well, I kissed you, right?”

“…you did.”

“Oh my god, Loki, I’m so sorry.” You drop your face into your hands with a groan. “That’s so terrible of me to put you in a position like that, and-and you were so nice to me and took such good care of me and—why are you smiling?”

He’s just standing there, smiling softly at you, in that damned white shirt, and you swear you couldn’t possibly fall any further in love with this guy, this god.

“Maybe,” he begins thoughtfully, putting the ice cream on the counter and rifling through a drawer for two spoons. “Maybe it wasn’t all that terrible.”

He flashes your stunned face a sideways grin, waiting to see your reaction and falling silent. You’ve completely lost the ability to speak in complete sentences after that and fall silent as well, and the two of you just sit there in each other’s heavy silence, waiting to see who will cave first.

Oh, fuck it. This one isn’t getting away.

“Hey, Loki?”

The god pauses and glances down at you, an arm frozen in midair reaching for the bowls on the top shelf. “Hm?”

“…nice shirt.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597@dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu@forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica@storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424@paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites@tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland@kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas@doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs

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heesgf · 5 years ago

Text

guardian angel!park seonghwa. spectrum

plot: seonghwa is sent to offer you guidance, but leaves with the memory of your lips against his.

word count: 1.6 k

pairing: guardian angel! seonghwa x reader

warnings: heated scenes, smoking/drinking mentions

a/n: inspired by hwa’s angelic beauty and my insomnia...this is my first time writing for ateez!!!🥺💖 i hope that you will give this a chance and enjoy<3

✦✧✦✧

“Pass me a light?”

A shield of bluish silver follows as he walks underneath the pier’s street lights. The warmth pools at his feet and he moves briskly, steps soft against pebbled sands and a single hand sliding through dark locks of his silky hair.

The sounds of laughter and cheering can still be heard through the hallway with wide ceilings, the vast corridor that connects the beach house to the veranda, and now, as waves ripple against marbled rock, you can hear the voices of your friends bouncing off the rampant waters. There is a party inside, but the unwavering sea is where your heart lies tonight; next to the silhouette of a tall boy in a tight white t-shirt and light blue skinny jeans. He has a hand outstretched and without looking, your fingers fiddle in your pockets to find what he’s asked for—you don’t know him. But there’s something about being in the company of a stranger that makes the frigid air a little easier to breathe, makes the cool evening breeze warmer to the touch, and the humidity of summer’s end melt away with the brief brush of his fingers against your palm.

You look at him only when he pulls the cigarette to his lips and takes the first puff. Thick, black smoke lingers around his jutted chin, enough of a contrast against his bronze plated skin to make your lips fall open. He captures the light of passing cars and you can see the heart of the ocean in his eyes. He looks to you once he lets out a soft hum. Blazing eyes with a hint of emerald green, they stare opposite to yours with dark eyebrows to frame, one slightly raised while the other sits knitted, and you think breathing might not be so easy after all.

“Do I know you?” You ask before he can get the words out.

The boy shifts on the cement aisle and smiles a crooked smile. He spares a single glance up to the night sky, once embroidered with hundreds upon thousands of shimmering stars, although tonight, there seem to be none. There are no distant sparkles, no gleams blasting from the ether—none other than the rays of incandescence that radiate from his skin. Looking back at you, he shrugs.

“I’m not so sure.” He ponders, then a wink. “You might’ve seen me in a dream.”

He has a voice that matches the sheer divinity of his smile. A velvety drawl with a husk that lies somewhere deep in the back of his throat and it’s a voice you want to imagine sing every song you’ve ever heard. Now, there seems to be a hint of amusement in his eyes, like he’s awaiting your next move, like he’s never seen anything like you before; never anyone so calm in the face of his carefully orchestrated chaos. Far in the distance, ocean waves move in a harmonic pendulum, as air rises from the tops of sea rocks and nips at the tip of your nose, a sweet sensation against the warmth growing in your cheeks. Strident waves devour the surface of pillowy sands, taking their secrets with it, burying them deep within the ocean’s treasure chest of mysteries, a sight that seems almost prolific. For a moment, you think you’d very much like that—to feel cool salty waters latch onto your body and rid your spirit of those things you’d been holding onto to for far too long, a cleanse of the mind and soul—you think you’d very much like that. The boy clears his throat and you think you might’ve been silent for too long; there’s a sudden longing for recklessness that bangs against your chest.

“Can I kiss you?”

The first thing you notice is the way his cheeks flush.

He is striking in the way that he looks at you, utterly mystified. You can see the tops of his ears turn a sheepish shade of pink, and smile at the way his lips part so suddenly. There is something different about his aura now, like he’s giving into his desires. With his face so artfully confused, you swear you’ve seen him somewhere before, perhaps etched hundreds of times in your endless pits of sketch books, his is a face you would never want to forget, a face of which you’d only hope to capture half its beauty on paper, and still fail every time.

“I would’ve asked you first.”

Suddenly, there is the sensation of his cold hand against your waist, while the other traces fondly at your jaw. Your hands rapidly move toward the back of his neck, brushing over soft tufts of his hair, and he lowers his plush lips onto yours in a jumble of emotion. The first thing you feel is the soft pressure, steady enough to uphold the out-pour of chills at the base of your spine, alongside a warmth at the face that fills you entirely. His hands curve up to frame your cheekbones, press smoothly along your temples, and when his lips draw apart for a moment, you feel the coolness of his teeth tug against your bottom lip. He amps up the force of his affections and your hands now tangle in his hair; he lets out a sharp breath.

“I want to feel you.” You whisper, pulling the fabric of his t-shirt and immediately he abides—throwing the white frock into a pit of sand—you fasten yourself into his embrace.

His chest, unlike his hand, is hot to the touch, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat that layers over his taut muscles. You can feel his lips sliding down from yours as they now slip firmly against your neck; your hands travel down his body, it’s lithe under the pads of your fingers without even seeing it. There’s not a glimmer in the sky because he seems to be garnering it all within himself. He kisses like his lips leave stardust in their wake, like the running of his fingers against your face and body are the suns of his affection, he is celestial in all ways but one—you swear he belongs in the sky, amidst the heavens and the angels—but tonight he’s here with you. For the first time, it feels like destiny.

You let your hands ravage his skin, sweeping down his back where you feel two long scars. They run from the tip of his shoulder blades to the small of his back, his lips still furiously nip at your collarbones. You squeeze his bicep and press a kiss to his shoulder, blinking into his skin and breathing in his fatal scent. There is a nuance in the air that is so effortlessly intoxicating, your eyes flutter with what feels like exhaustion and echoes in your bones as the wanton desire to sleep by his side—somehow, he feels you. He pulls away from your body and nods into the nape of your neck, the caress of his eyelashes prickly on your hot skin—you let your hands run up and down his back.

By the time the two of you lie side by side on a quilted blanket along the shore, you can see the remnants of a lightless moon making way for its vibrant counterpart. He holds his hand against your head, which falls softly against his bare chest. Without knowing, your eyes are misty with tears, and you are tracing your finger along what could be a tattoo, but looks more like writing that was woven into his skin. Still, in your dizzied wake, the words are clear; puris omnia pura.

To the pure, all things are pure. Somehow you know.

“Suits you.” The last thing you say before your eyelids come to a close, the morning sun peaks its head into the sky, and the sound of his breathing the most harmonious of lullabies.

✦✧✦✧

The colours of the morning sky are delicate.

With the sun high in the sky, and the allure of iridescent gold, it looks as if it’s been hand painted for only your eyes to see. You wake up on the beach, body tucked tightly into a quilted blanket upon the sand, the gentle lapping of ocean waves against the shore your alarm clock.

Tucked in the pocket of your silken blouse is a note with small cursive letters.

Puris omnia pura.

I think it suits you a lot more.

-Seonghwa

✦✧✦✧

Bonus:

Seonghwa’s sworn never to do such a thing. Never to feel the way he has, especially not for a human. This is his art, his craft, now, his life—these are forces not to be meddled with—and yet, he finds himself so pliable in your arms. He was moved by more than just the will of the heavens to kiss you, he felt it within himself. With every fragment of his existence, he knew he’d never wanted anything else more, and for the first time since dispatch, he felt something foreign stir up within him. He is sworn never to do such a thing. To leave the human world without a trace is his duty… though he left his memory firmly in your care. He’d even given you his name. His real name, the one he’d been gifted at birth. A part of him had left it in hopes that one day you would find him. No, a part of him had left it because he knew that one day you would find him. Seonghwa’s sworn never to do such a thing.

But he thinks he’d pry open the doors to heaven if it meant he could see you again.

✦✧✦✧

a/n: as i finish this up !! it’s 5am and im going a little crazy but i hope u enjoy this!!💕 it’s been a little bit of a rough time so this is mostly self indulgent but nonetheless :’-)) i hope it was worth reading<3 as always, feedback is loved and appreciated🥺 and if u want more ateez stuff lmk hehe....

#ateez #park seonghwa #seonghwa #ateez scenarios #ateeznetz #christina lika and m🥺 if you angels are reading this. i love you.

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saturatedolan · 6 years ago

Text

Crush - Grayson Dolan

WARNING: SMUT

Summary: Grayson and Y/N haven’t talked in years. The end of their friendship was the result of high school and Grayson scolded himself for letting her slip past his fingers. Despite the years they spent apart, they had always been on each other’s minds.

Word count: 8K

A/N: Hello! Here’s my next fic. It’s very loosely based on Crush by Cigarettes After Sex (listen to the song if you haven’t it’s amazing) and also a small scene in this is inspired by a part in Charles Dickens’s Great Expectations because I loved it so much. Hope you guys like this one, i’ve been putting this off for ages and i’ve finally finished it lmao.

“Prick.”

Y/N couldn’t help but let the gentle cuss out her lips as she watched him take over. It wasn’t like her to use such vulgar language, but today was just getting worse; she felt completely and utterly drained. And this, somewhat pissed, look on her face was caused by just one person and it sure as hell wasn’t the jock who just pushed in front of her.

“Heard that,” Grayson let out a small chuckle. He thought that it was kind of cute to hear Y/N talk like that. He’d never really heard so much as a sweet, innocent sentence slip from that plump mouth of hers. But then again, they’d never really seen much of each other since they began to start making new friends, going to different classes – you know, things that are bound to occur in one’s young friendship.

Grayson could so vividly recall the day that they first entered the humid halls of their new high school together. Their hands almost touching as they made their ways through the halls. He was so close to grasping her hand, inching his way to entwine his fingers with hers. He almost had it too, if it weren’t for the bell ringing and the gentle stampede of students pulling them apart.

It was a sort of wake up call for him. He knew how much their friendship would change during their years of high school. But unfortunately for him, it wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Promise we’ll catch up next time,” rang through his ears as he remembered Y/N’s guilty expression which occurred on more than one occasion. He couldn’t even recall the last time that they actually exchanged a word to each other. But he couldn’t blame her. She was completely perfect - his dream girl - and he scolded himself every night for letting her slip through his fingers.

It was only a matter of moments until Grayson was drawn out of his thoughts by a light clearing of the throat. Now, it was Y/N’s turn to reminisce on her childhood crush. As he turned around with that wide smile and those bright eyes, all she could do was gawk at the familiar yet different face in front of her. He towered over her body, casting a shadow on her expression which hid the glimmer in her eyes. ‘Wow’ was all she could think of as she stood before him.

She hadn’t forgotten about Grayson, but she certainly wasn’t expecting him to look as good as he did now. She was aware that he was the team’s starting running back for years now, but she never really had a good look at him until now. She exchanged a few glances with him across the halls, but it was nothing more than a brief look.

His shoulders were far more broad than she remembered. His frame was extremely built and his facial features were more prominent than she last laid eyes on him properly. She couldn’t help but think that he was attractive – who wouldn’t – he was gorgeous and she couldn’t deny it.

She felt as though the bad mood that she had sported throughout the day was slowly diminishing. The memories of their summer bike rides through their neighborhood made her frowning eyes soften, and the thought of their long story-telling sessions made her lips curve upwards ever so slightly. It was nice seeing him again, it bought back a lot of nostalgia. Somehow, his gentle expression calmed her down the like way it used to.

She stared at the water droplet which slowly trickled from his chin, making its way down to his sharp jawline and down his tanned neck. She suddenly didn’t mind him cutting in front at all. After all, she was the very last person. It was only a water fountain, no need to be so harsh on him. He was probably thirsty after practice.

“Sorry Y/N,” he tried to say it as casually as he could, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He just smiled down at her, hearing the smooth melodies from the sun singing a gentle note. The golden reflects in her eyes were visible as he shifted, letting the light beam onto her soft skin. “I was just really thirsty.” He turned coy, her beauty making his throat hitch.

He knew that he needed to go, quick, before the bulge in his pants became more prominent. It wasn’t like him at all to lust over a girl who he had only just looked at, but Y/N was more than just a girl of desire to him. He could remember his childhood self wanting nothing more than to touch her palms with his, have their fingers latch onto one another’s before anything could happen to change it. He even used to want to share a kiss with her, just one chaste graze of their mouths to alleviate his intentions of being more than friends. But now, being more mature, he wanted more.

Grayson had his share of casual sex, but nothing could compare to the pleasure and satisfaction that he could give and receive with Y/N. Maybe one day he could have a chance with his dream girl and keep her from slipping away from his grasp.

And with that carnal yet sweet thought in his mind, he slipped past her and made his way to the locker rooms. His heart was thumping and he became nervous all of a sudden.

Her mouth was slightly agape as she watched Grayson scurry off into the building. Her eyes scanned the empty football field as she replayed his sentence in her head, again and again, stepping over to the silver water fountain and taking a few gulps of the water. The orange tones from the soft sunset lit her face up into a blissful sight as the sudden flood of anger washed over her, recollecting each detail of the heated argument with her boyfriend which she had to endure earlier.

CRUSH

The following day they found themselves in the exact same spot, only this time they were awkwardly waiting for each other to make a move. It was around the same time, the sun beginning to set which awarded them a golden filter. They’d often stay after school, Grayson for football practice and Y/N for extra time at the library. She silently scolded herself for coming out to the bleachers on this Tuesday afternoon though. It was probably a force of habit as most days she would wait for her boyfriend in that very spot. She knew that there were better, closer, alternatives where she could get her water, but she somewhat hoped to see him again; just to get another glance at Grayson. She wanted to feel the thing that she felt yesterday. The flip of her stomach when her eyes first made contact with his hazel ones.

Their pupils darted from each other to the fountain and then, they simultaneously opened their mouths, letting out a quiet word. They both cut themselves off with a chuckle. It must have been a peculiar sight for any passer-by. Two teenagers, standing a meter apart, just looking at each other, subtly observing each and every one of their features. Grayson, raised his arm to scratch the back of his neck, of course, this was out of habit, but Y/N took this opportunity to stare at his bulging muscles which made her mouth water just the slightest bit.

The tension was radiating off their bodies to the point that they could practically feel it tickling their skin, sending goosebumps to litter their arms.

“You go first,” She finally mustered up the courage to let a few words slip from her dry mouth.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he let out a bright, genuine smile.

Her eyes were fixed on his neck and the way his jaw moved. It was such a weird action to stare at but she couldn’t avert her eyes to anything else. She was observing the way a vein would pop out of his neck, how his tongue would come out every so often and how the droplets would drip down his chin. There was a sudden ache between her thighs which ravaged her insides. She felt so guilty for thinking such things about someone she hadn’t talked to for so long. But they way his eyes looked up through his lashes, meeting hers, made her thighs press together.

He was smiling now, lifting his head up from the cool water. His lips were wet and glistening, so delicious looking until he licked his lips and wiped his mouth. It was then that he caught the small shift of her bare thighs and her sunken posture, which was the cause of his smile. The fact that she was wearing an extremely short skirt didn’t help his growing boner at all, though.

“All yours,” he tried to keep the small grin on his face before lust completely took over his expression. They were both terrified though, they had no idea what to say to each other. Compliment each other? Just keep staring? It was already awkward enough. It was at times like these that Grayson wished that he could just kiss her. To have her lips pressed up against his to cover the uneasiness of the situation. However, his fantasy came crashing down as she brushed past him to go to the water fountain herself, feeling the coolness run through her tongue and down her hot throat.

Much like Y/N, Grayson couldn’t resist staring at her while she took her sips from the fountain. Like him, her tongue would occasionally slip out, causing his cock to rise without him even realising it. His eyes trailed down from her face down to her bent over body. The white fabric of her skirt rose up slightly, almost giving him the bittersweet view of her wet core. He wanted to touch her so badly that he had to ball his hands into fists to stop himself from grabbing her and fucking her right there on the spot.

What Grayson didn’t know was that Y/N wouldn’t mind that at all. In fact, she wanted it more than he did. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins as she could feel the cool air brushing up her skirt, meeting her drenched pussy. The fact that Grayson could be welcomed with the sight of her gillnetting lips caused her to jolt up, but then she remembered why she didn’t wear underwear. It wasn’t specifically for him to have a glance. But if he saw, then she honestly wouldn’t mind.

And with that, Grayson made a bold move which he contemplated for the past few minutes while gawking at her. It had two possible outcomes; she would either slap him or reciprocate. He honestly had no idea why he did it. Perhaps it was the unfulfilled childhood crush, or the way she looked with her eyes closed; so cute and tempting.

Grayson leaned down to her, slipping his tongue out to touch the cold running water.

Then, that was when he felt the tender touch of her lips against his tongue.

It was a shock to her, feeling the warmth of his touch on her, and it caused her eyes to open. She was faced with his heavy hazel eyes. The golden shimmer in them made him look so mesmerising, while the oranges and reds of the sky behind him made the scene so enthralling. The abrupt action made her melt into his mouth, the sweetness of his taste engulfed her senses and caused a wave of pleasure to course through her spine.

Grayson closed his eyes, tracing his tongue along her soft lips until she opened her mouth, accepting all of him. Their lips latched onto each other so delicately, sharing one kiss which completely and utterly consumed their minds. All it took was the feeling of his fingertips grazing her cheek to make her pull away. In that moment she shared with Grayson, she had completely forgotten about her boyfriend. It was like his lips freed her from all her worries. Yet, unfortunately, reality had to set in for her when her fantasy brushed her skin.

“Oh my God, I- I'm so sorry-” Honestly, Grayson felt guilty. He shouldn’t have acted so selfishly. The fact that she had a boyfriend didn’t even cross his mind. He felt embarrassed, his cheeks began to redden and he ran off just as she opened her mouth to say something.

She was stunned. Not by his actions, but how this man could completely rid her memories of Max in those moments of their lips touching. It was something that she wanted again, and she felt so guilty for enjoying the mere few seconds of it.

CRUSH

The music was blaring and Y/N didn’t know how much longer she could last. The musty smell of the sweaty bodies made her want to leave straight away, but somehow, she was still here. Perhaps it was just because she was looking for some fun, a cathartic release to free her from the stresses of the previous week. It was like her argument with max had completely slipped her mind throughout the few days. Maybe it’s because her mind was occupied by someone else. But right now, the deepness of her melancholy was so intense in her heart that it fuelled her body to keep squeezing past the sea of bodies, making her way to the basement.

She was the one that had wanted to resolve things actually, but she knew that this wasn’t the reason why she was so down. She told him that she needed space, which was true, yet she couldn’t help but think how Grayson was the main reason. It wasn’t as if their relationship was difficult recently, because it was, but the way Grayson made her feel in the few seconds he kissed her sent shocks of electricity down her spine. She felt more in that one kiss with Grayson than she had felt with Max.

She saw him just a few minutes ago, with his friends and having fun. Y/N was almost certain that other girls would try to flirt with him tonight - knowing that the fact that she wasn’t there with him was practically the same as breaking up to others. She couldn’t care less though, her relationship had been so bland recently.

Grayson was confused as to why he was here too. Parties had never really been his scene, yet he stayed because it was his house and his car was at the shop. Ethan would throw a party occasionally, but Grayson would always leave before any guests started arriving.

He just stayed there and huffed, looking all desolate. But in fact, all he could think about was Y/N.

He was sat on the couch downstairs, taking hits from the shared blunt that he had rolled himself. It was kind of a pain, sharing his own weed with people that he barely spoke to in school, but that was just how it went with parties. It wasn’t like Grayson always smoked, he did it on occasion if he was really stressed or needed to release his mind for a little while. People at parties like these always asked him to roll through, his fingers were just so ‘skilled’, they would say.

He let out a sigh, almost pushing himself up to leave until he spotted a pair of legs which made their way down the stairs. Y/N had just come in time, a gentle smile coming from his mouth as he watched her delicately place her footsteps closer to his figure.

But his smile was replaced by a small frown as he watched her plop herself down next to him, letting out a big sigh from her lips. It was like she had barely noticed him, but she did.

“You okay.” He was genuinely concerned for her. Seeing her like this broke his heart a little and he was afraid to admit it.

“Yeah.”

“You sure? You look a little-”

“Yep, fine Grayson.” Her voice snapped and at that point, he knew that he should stop.

Now she felt mad. Not at him, but herself. Her emotions were so intense and all over the place. She was still thinking about her relationship with Max, contemplating whether or not she should just end it with him altogether.

He should have been embarrassed to talk to her after what happened a couple days ago, yet his mind was a little hazy. Grayson was passed the blunt and took a puff. He wasn’t sure if he should offer it to her too, but she took it out of his hands before he could turn to her. She was s desperate to find something that could make her feel anything other than miserable.

He watched her, a little amused, against the changing colours of the lights above them. The music was far less harsh than it was upstairs. They had their own music down here to set the tone. The soft sound of Kid Cudi played within the ambiance of the misty room. It was a whole different mood down here, far more relaxed.

Her lips let out the smoke slowly, catching the attention of Grayson.

“I didn’t know you smoked,”

“I usually don’t, only on special occasions.” This caused Grayson’s eyebrows to raise. Who knew that she would be the one to try stuff like this.

“Yeah? What’s the occasion?” His voice was low, raspy almost.

“Celebrating my freedom I guess? I think I’m going to end it with my boyfriend.” She had no expression on her face as the words slipped from her tongue. Grayson was the opposite, his eyes grew wide and his posture was stiff.

“Oh- you okay?”

Y/N turned to him, eyes now fixed on his. His face, eyes specifically, always used to calm her down when they were younger. And now that they were older, she could see the slight tinge of lust that was spread across his iris’.But she tried to ignore it.

For the next few hours, they talked and talked. From their deepest insecurities to she littlest things like their favourite colours. His was green and hers was yellow. It was like they’ve never really disconnected from each other, like they were never strangers for the past few years.

They didn’t know how their conversation turned into some sort of confession game, but somehow, it did.

“Nope, not even one.” Her smile was wide as she let out a small laugh.

“Seriously?”

Honestly, they’d never been able to disclose to someone so quickly. This topic was very private, yet there they were, rambling about their sex lives and the orgasms they’ve shared with their previous partner. Perhaps it was the drugs, but there was a thick sexual tension between them.

Grayson let out a heavy cloud of smoke and passed the disappearing blunt to Y/N. He tried hard not to get turned on by her, but the sight of her lips wrapping around the blunt and the way she let out the smoke out – slightly hollowing her cheeks – made his cock rise. It seemed as though each in passing moment he would discover something else that he admired from her. Right now, it was the way her eyes glimmered against the lights, how they radiated delight from the simplest action of opening her eyes. He felt loopy at this point, completely entranced by her, while the subtle lyrics of Crush by Cigarettes After Sex made her body gently sway to the rhythm.

He could hardly make out the other bodies amongst the growing mist of the room. It was nice though, the changing colours of the lights softened from purples to reds and eventually made its way round the rainbow. And within the haze, he didn’t realise that her eyes were on him. Set on the way he would repeatedly clench his jaw and how his eyebrows would furrow when he did so. He was completely

beautiful and she let out a sigh. The atmosphere accumulated bliss in her stomach, making its way in between her thighs which caused her to shift, catching his attention.

“Mmm, I love this song so much.” She said as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back in bliss. This was so relaxing for her. The sativa made her head rush with all kinds of thoughts and she felt a sudden burst of energy which she adored.

“I wanna fuck your love slow,” soft whispers escaped her mouth as she sang, “catch my heart go swim.” She was grinning up at the ceiling, amused by the sense of paradise she felt in this basement. Then, she turned to him. “Feel your lips crush-”

She was met with the predatory eyes of Grayson. His eyes were almost black and his mouth was slightly agape, accentuating the plumpness of his lips. She didn’t realise how much the lyrics affected him so much. He was familiar with the song yet the lyrics that she uttered made his whole body shiver. Those words coming from her lips caused his mind to conjure things that would either make her shiver with delight or push him away.

But, realising that he would always became bold in her presence, and he accepted that. With his eyes roaming her lips, he leaned forward to her soft aura. When he was only a mere centimeter from her lips, he stopped and let his hot breath mingle with hers. They were so close that their skin tingled at the anticipation of each other’s touch.

“Can’t wait to feel your love inside me now,” Y/N sang to the song, making eye contact with him. And that was when he knew that they were more than song lyrics to her. It was an invitation, a request for him to touch her. It made his throat hitch, the sight of her peering up at him, but nonetheless, he was content to see her like this.

And so, he closed the gap between them and touched her lips with his. It was soft and tender, their mouths opened to latch onto each other. They made it slow and sensual, their tongues not yet slipping out. Their bodies were filled with shocks laced with an eclectic urgency, it was as though their bodies were waiting for something like this – a deep connection which threaded them together for years.

“You want to go upstairs?” She proposed with wide eyes.

“Uh-”

“Just for some more privacy… I don’t really want any of Max’s friends catching me with someone right now.” She desired him so badly, to have him inside her slowly, giving her the orgasm that Max could never deliver. But, she knew that it would be too abrupt, so she kept her intentions purely for exchanging conversation.

Grayson lead her to his bedroom, closing the door lightly and turning to see her as beautiful as ever. The warm light of his bedside lamp illuminated her soft looking skin. She was sat on his bed, eyes looking so adorable looking up at him like that.

It took them a moment to start their conversation. It was about their plans for the summer. They learned that they wouldn’t really be doing much, how they were just thinking of staying home and relaxing. They talked and talked, their backs against the headboard and their legs were so close to touching. The blunt had given them a high but now, they became tired. And as their discussions became nothing but soft utterances slipping from their mouths, their eyes began to flutter shut, their heads began to droop down and lean against each others.

It was only until the bedroom door barged open, revealing a stranger's surprised expression. Both Grayson and Y/N jumped up, but their bodies softened until the unfamiliar face mumbled a quick ‘sorry’ before shutting the door again.

“I should go-”

“Wait-” Grayson sounded a little too desperate with his words. He tried to conjure something up in his mind, an excuse for her to stay a little longer, but with a big sigh, he stared at her with defeat. “Uh, nevermind. Make sure you’re safe okay?”

“Sure.”

He was fuming, completely and utterly frustrated with himself. He knew that the moment that she stepped out that door, she’d completely forget about him and the few hours they spent with each other. The lack of time didn’t diminish the shared thoughts and the feelings of increased heart rate that they shared though. All he could think about was her. And he knew that he would be the last thing on her mind when she left.

But, the thoughts that he had about her were wrong. He was all she could think about. How he would stare at her with those kind eyes. They were glistening but she could see the slight cloudiness in his eyes, which she knew was from lust.

It was in her eyes too. The way that she had to push against the crowded rooms and heavy bodies somehow heightened her lust for her loveliest friend. Then her mind lingered on the feeling of his lips on hers; how he just...did it. So, without hesitation, she turned around and walked across the house and back to his bedroom door. But first, she walked down to the basement and took a freshly rolled blunt.

Her eyes widened at his naked chest in front of him, inches away from her face. With her mouth agape, she dared herself to tilt her head up to meet his dark gaze.

“You know, I never realised how much I missed you Gray.” She could hear his breath in the air.

“Yeah?”

It surprised him when she held her hand out, a blunt placed in her small palm. She was smirking now, knowing damn well that he couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend even more time with her. It was so clear in her mind now. She wasn’t cocky but she knew that he needed her as much as she needed him.

Her stomach lurched as she observed his half-naked body lighting the blunt and placing it in his lips. Oh, how his lips would just wrap around it so perfectly. Maybe it was the overwhelming amount of lust, but she could just imagine his lips wrapped around her clit like that, so secure. And when his cheeks hollowed - oh wow - he got more appealing after each passing moment. She saw how his eyes would track her every move, every single thing.

She sat on the bed once again, on the same position as before, with her back against the backboard and her legs stretched out in front of her. And with that, Grayson followed her to the bed but sat in front of her as he reached over to pass her the sativa.

He watched her use her plump lips. So tender.

That was when she crawled to him, smiling and all, to blow out the smoke right in his face.

“Remember that one time when we would pretend to smoke with those candy sticks and your mom caught us.” She giggled, inching closer to his face.

“Yeah”, chucking, “but look at us now.” He didn’t want to show it, but the fact that she could remember their old times made his heart skip a beat.

At first glance, she hadn’t realised the small row of cameras that were nestled between the abundance of gold trophies. There were Polaroids and film cameras that were the type you see in old movies. She could remember their talks about how he wanted to become a photographer, how he asked her to be a part of a shoot. And she could remember the disappointment in his face when she would rain check every time single time. So without thinking, she reached up for the shelf above his head and took the camera down.

What Y/N didn’t realise was that Grayson could see the sliver of flesh from her rising shirt. Ever so slightly, he could see the red string of her underwear placed on her hips. That was when the sudden rush to his cock began to quicken as it stirred and stirred in his pants.

It was an uneasy push of lust for both of them when Y/N realised what exactly she had done. It added to their desire for each other which fueled them to keep on going, whatever this was. She couldn’t help but think about what was on his mind as she faced him with a Polaroid camera in her hand, observing his pink cheeks and tinted lips.

“You still do photography, Gray?”

“I haven’t taken a picture in months. Girls really don’t take jocks seriously when I ask if I could do a photo shoot with them.”

Y/N frowned and tilted her head to the side. How could anyone want to reject him? He’d seemed like the perfect guy for pretty girls.

“Here”, she handed him the camera. “Take a few of me. I’ll take you seriously.” A giggle flew out of her heavenly mouth still trying to get over the fact that she just flashed her lace thong. But within the misty fog in her mind, she had only been thinking about his bulge. How his jeans would wrap it up so tight as he stood towering over the bed. It was desperation that ran through her blood and she didn’t know if it was for his cock or his lips.

The flash of the camera made her sight go loopy for a second but his grin was almost brighter. He stared down at the developed photo of her messy hair and pleading eyes. It was so erotic yet so innocent and it made his spine tingle.

The sativa in her system almost made things seem like they were in slow motion. She felt like a ghost with how light her felt whenever she moved and it made this whole thing more enjoyable.

Flashes of light and film encouraged Y/N to keep going. His tender voice would direct her flow but he loved how her movements were so organic as she faced the camera, lying down on the bed beneath him. All she could do was watch him as put his eye to the camera, admiring how his face would scrunch up when he did so.

He could see her through the lens, finger ready to press the button until she bought her hands down to the hem of her shirt. Another flash went by and his jaw was open from the sight in front of him. Her red lace looked perfect on her skin and her breasts were the perfect shapes.

“Y/N-”

“Keep going Gray.”

He obeyed and shot her angelic body with his Polaroid. She found him gulping when she would crawl over to him, eyes glossy and lips tilted upwards.

And just like the glorious day where they felt each other's lips for the first time, Grayson felt a sudden jolt of courage. So, with this new found confidence he leaned into her, so much closer than before. No, he didn’t kiss her, but he took his hand and held her face in his palm, using his thumb to trace over her soft lips.

“Pretty.” He couldn’t help but let out the word of endearment slip from his tongue as he observed her, eyes fixated on her lips.

“You think my lips are pretty?” She laughed softly but she stared at him, eyes hazy and heart racing.

“I think all of you is pretty.”

Now, it was Y/N’s turn to have a sudden flush run through her body. She had never caught feelings for a man so quickly. But maybe, she’d always known. Maybe it was always Grayson that she thought about during those long nights with Max. It was Grayson that was always there, at the back of her mind when she’d touch herself right after she left those unsatisfying nights with Max.

The next thing they knew, their lips collided once again, feeling the tenderness of each other’s movements against their own. His fingertips met her cheek as they both inched closer to each other until she was on top of him, sitting up against the headboard.

He couldn’t believe this, the connection of their lips and the way her mouth opened to let out soft moans; it was heavenly to him - she was heavenly - but before he knew it their bare chests were rubbing up against each other and his hands were holding down her waist. It was as if he was so entranced by her that he didn’t realise that their clothes were off, which left them in just their underwear.

He could feel her small hands trace along the crevices of his back, their lips still one with each other. She began to trail her fingernails against his skin as soon as she felt his tongue dive deeper into her mouth. And that’s when he began to whimper, so desperate for her touch - desperate to feel her around his aching cock.

“Mmm, Gray.” He was sucking on her neck now, breathing in her sweet scent of peach and honey.

She thought about it. Maybe her boyfriend was downstairs probably looking for her. Maybe he wasn’t, but the taste of his sweet lips caught her in some kind of spiral. At that moment she knew that she was always his; despite the years of silence shared between them and the innocent glances across the halls, they both knew that they’d never really been separated fully.

Y/N’s soft hands trailed over his hair, pulling on them as she adjusted herself on his lap, straddling him, and began to pull his jeans down.

“I don’t think I’ve ever stopped thinking about you, Gray.” It was unexpected, but she needed to get this off her chest. Perhaps it was the drugs but she knew that it was true.

“You’re my girl. You always were.” And now it was Grayson’s turn to free his tongue. He didn’t really know where it came from, maybe it was the sativa too, but he just wanted to call her his.

And with that, she began to grind her wetness on his thigh. He could feel the pool of lust dripping from her underwear and it was so hard to control himself. To keep himself from lifting her up and fuck her against the wall.

Little whimpers trailed from her mouth and her eyebrows furrowed at the pleasure of his thick thigh. One of his hands was rested on her hip, so close to her thong, and the other was caressing her lips. The pad of his thumb glided over her lips as she opened her mouth to let out louder moans.

“Say it.”

He saw her eyes darken but her expression turned into a frown.

“Tell me that I was always yours. But if you do I promise you that I’ll make you cum as much as I can.” His hot, wet mouth trailed over her neck, “Fuck you however you want, YN.”

She just looked at him in awe. So struck by his words and the way his eyes were glossed over with a darker tint. He was using his index and middle finger to trail the skin of her mouth. Suddenly, he felt the warm wetness of her mouth on his skin and his eyes grew wide. She was sucking and licking as she moaned, feeling her pussy drip against his thigh.

Her head tilted back as she pressed herself harder onto him, feeling the folds of her pussy gliding over his tattoos.

He could feel the stickiness on his skin and her little squeal, knowing that she’d just came. He felt how her thighs would squeeze him and it made him growl into her neck.

She was so overcome with pleasure. She’d never felt anything like it. She had never once came with Max yet Grayson made her gush just buy the touch of his thigh.

“I’m yours Grayson,” her breath was erratic, “I was always yours.”

“Yeah?”

He took her mouth in his. Their tongues were so needy for each other as the kiss deepened.

Y/N used her hands to trail over his hardened cock, feeling the length of his desire. It sprang up when she pulled down his Calvins; it made her mouth water and she wanted to lick it so badly. The tip was pink and so ready to be sucked. The veins and the way it was so hard made her mouth water. But as she leaned down, he took her chin to bring it up to his face.

“I want to feel you cum on my dick like you just did on my thigh.”

And so he lined himself up with her entrance, wetness trickling down her pussy onto the tip.

The first stroke caused them both to growl in unison. The flood of his thickness in her tight cunt made her eyes roll back and her mind to become even more hazy. She began her slow movements, up and down the length of his girth. She could feel the ridges of his veins and the sight of his closed eyes and open mouth caused her to fasten her pace slightly.

Y/N nuzzled her head into his warm neck, letting out whimpers as she gripped her thighs lightly in his hands, guiding her hips so he could feel all of her warmth. So tight.

Their breaths mingled as he took one hand to grasp her cheeks and bring her face to his. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were pleading. As he took in her mouth, he could feel her moans trying to escape his lips which sent vibrations down all the way to his cock.

As her pace increased, and their moans got louder. She could feel her pussy get fucked so well and she was about to burst right onto his cock. His thighs were slapping and a generous coat of her wetness covered them already.

So deep. His length was stretching her so well, the feeling almost painful but she loved it. The way he would let out a small groan with each mouthwatering thrust made her body hot, sweat dripping from her head already.

She felt like she shattered. Once her orgasm washed over her, she couldn’t feel anything apart from the intense gush coming from her pussy. She could feel the rush in her stomach, the sweet stir of her insides as she flowed onto him.

Grayson wanted nothing more than this. To feel her hot pussy cum right on him.

“Yeah? You cumming on me Y/N? How good does that feel? Tell me how much you love this.”

Her legs were shaking yet he still lifted her up and down onto his cock, wanting to feel every spasm and clench of her delicious pussy. He could feel her convulse onto him as she let out loud squeals.

“I- fuck- feels so good, Gray.” Oh, how her tremulous voice was like music to his ears! He wished that he could just listen to her try to create full sentences with that shakiness in her voice.

He kept her still for the next few seconds though, not knowing how much she could take but wanting to find out exactly what could have her begging for him to stop. He wasn’t kidding about his desire to make her cum and he knew that she knew that.

As she began to calm down, she went to lift herself off his cock, he kept his hands on her thighs to keep himself inside her. She opened her mouth to protest but he beat her to it.

“I want you to touch yourself, Y/N, right here on my cock.”

She was about to protest, knowing she’d make a mess of herself, but she didn’t. Her fingers trailed down to her core and started to rub her core.

He could just imagine having her pink little clit in his mouth. He wanted to taste her so desperately but her needy little whines made his dick twitch inside her.

For Y/N it was so hard trying to stop herself from pacing up and down. But the fact that he was already so deep inside her whilst her clit was being stimulated made her toes curl. Grayson put his hot mouth onto her tits and sucked tenderly on her nipples, tracing the nub with his wet tongue while he used his hand to cup the other.

She almost heaved at the tingles she felt. Her head tilted back and her fingers became weak at his touch. She began to slow down her actions and he could tell. So without hesitation, he shoved her hand away from her entrance and looked her in the eyes.

She opened her mouth for him once again, letting his fingers slip in while she sucked lightly, using her tongue to swirl around the length of them. Then he lowered his arm and used his digits, covered in her wetness, and spread the pads of his fingers along her slit. He went from her entrance - which still had his cock inside her - to her swollen clit.

He could tell she was enjoying every moment of it; the raw flesh of his cock deliciously deep inside her and the feeling of his fingers rubbing up her sensitive pussy. He moaned at the sight of her. And he could feel the tremble of her thighs on his skin. As he began to rub faster he could feel her clenching around his cock, feeling the overwhelming amount of pleasure that was disposed on her pussy.

Grayson found it hard to control himself. To keep himself from turning her over and pounding her into the mattress, but he knew she was close and how he would soon get to feel her release onto his cock.

“That’s right,” he whispered in her ear as her whimpers resonated throughout the room while he pinched her clit and applied more pressure. “Fucking cum around my cock again, Y/N, I know you can do it, baby.”

That was when she lost it. The beautiful convulsions of her pussy against his cock almost made him cum too, but not yet. He could feel the stream of her cum covering his dick so delightfully. She buried her head inside her neck and bit down on his shoulders, tasking the thin layer of sweat that sit on top of his skin. She had so much that she wanted to take him out, but he slammed her hips down onto him, wanting to feel every last clench of her quivering pussy.

“Mmm, so beautiful.” He let her slip off his cock and ran his hands all over her body. From the valley of her breasts to her creamy thighs.

When he flipped her over, she couldn’t help but let out a little squeal. The grin on her face caused his eyes to deepen in colour because he’d never seen anything quite as beautiful as Y/N, especially when she smiled. He kissed her one last time then kissed a trail from her neck to her breasts, wishing that he could just spend hours cupping and licking on her perfect tits. But with that, he pecked down her stomach, stopping at her hip to lick down to the top of her thigh.

Y/N just couldn’t keep still. She was so sensitive from her last orgasms but Grayson loved the sight of her trembling legs. He spread her thighs wide apart, and put his face so close to her core, fanning his hot breath on her skin.

“Such a pretty pussy, Y/N, so beautiful.” It looked untouched, so flawless and it was just for him. He was so desperate to feel her cum on his mouth, but he didn’t know where to start. Lick her entrance? Fuck her with his tongue? He wanted everything to be perfect for her.

And so he began with sucking on her swollen clit, knowing the sensitivity would make her writhe and arch her back. Her mouth opened and let out echoing moans. She wanted to shut her legs shut but Grayson was gripping them, even spreading them wider.

His cock was begging to be wrapped up in her pussy again, but he was far too focused on making Y/N feel as much pleasure as possible. He began to use his tongue to glide through her folds, breathing and leaving his lingering breath on her wetness. Grayson loved the feeling of her against his tongue, her sweet taste with her little moans drove him insane.

He was practically making out with her pussy, using his lips to suck lightly and his tongue to swirl around her clit. She could feel her orgasm inching closer again, hearing him moan and growl against sending vibrations to her stomach - where she could feel the pleasure building and waiting for it to crumble.

Y/N could hear the gentle smacking noises coming from his lips and she couldn’t believe the amount of pleasure that she received. Even though he was only sucking and licking the surface, she could still feel him inside her because she knew for a fact that he stretched her out so well.

Grayson’s arms went to grab under her thighs, bringing her pussy closer to his face. He could also feel her thighs a lot more and he knew that she was close once again.

She let out a string of cuss words as she released all over his waiting mouth. Her stomach clenched as well as her pussy. Her thighs shook and trembled around his face and he was delighted. He wanted to savor this moment but he had to act quickly.

In the midst of her earth-shattering orgasm, Grayson had jumped up and thrust inside her again, feeling the tight clenching of her pussy as she began to scream now. Back arching and mouth wide open at the feeling of his cock inside her mid-orgasm.

For Grayson, it was an unreal feeling. So tight and warm and now dripping even more. His face was contorting as he could feel himself about to release.

“Fuck, can I cum inside you?” His breaths were labored as he nuzzled his face into her neck. He knew damn well that she was still gushing over him, but he loved to hear her shaky voice.

“Yes! G-grayson!”

The stimulation was too much to handle. He didn’t even let her finish cumming before he began to pound her. She could feel him graze the perfect spot inside her. But then, when his fingers went to rub on her pink little clit again, she couldn’t help but let out a scream as she hit another tsunami of pleasure. Her eyes shut tightly and her mouth was open so wide her jaw hurt.

Seeing her like this, so flustered and sticky and wet and glistening, made him shoot string after string of cum inside her. He could feel it mingling with her own cum, his thighs, and pelvis all viscous from all her cum.

She loved the feeling of his cum inside her, she could feel it shoot inside and oh fuck, did it feel satisfying.

He pulled out, watching their cum trickle out of her pussy. The creamy mess delighted him. Grayson looked up to see her eyes glossy with tears, red cheeks which were stained by her eyes made him frown. But it was only until she tilted her lips up to a smile did he relax and plop himself down next to her. He was caressing her cheek and wiping her tears off.

He kissed her so tenderly, so gently because he knew that she’d had enough, although, he knew he wanted nothing more than to deliver another orgasm to her.

They laid there, staring deep into each other’s eyes, feeling the same thing when listening to Cigarettes After Sex. The song could evoke such emotion, something that they’d never experienced, which lead them to the pure bliss of eachother’s company once again.

#please dont let it flop🥺#grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #garsyon dolan one shot #graysondolan x reader #dolan twins #dolantwinsmut #ethandolan #ethan dolan smut #dolansmut #ethan dolan one shot #dolan twin one shot

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jawnjendes · 5 years ago

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isn’t it obvious i’m a wreck | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

AN: fun fact the song this fic is named after has the same name as one of shawns songs :P anyway, this one is a bit angsty, and continued from no medicine is strong enough so yh if u like this series blease let me know and blease feel free to reblog the masterlist :’)

masterlist | series playlist

Only rarely was I ever vocal about my pain. Go ahead, pretend to be shocked. I mask my hurt, angry, upset feelings with mannerisms and behaviors my therapist wouldn’t necessarily approve of. I’d clear my throat to keep from crying hysterically. I’d play video games on the couch to avoid thinking about whatever is shaking my world at the moment. I’d fuck my boyfriend to avoid talking about my feelings sometimes, I’ll admit it.

But this… This was something I could not put on a front for, even if I wanted to. I really did not want to put on a mask. Shawn had to see what was happening to me, he had to know what he created inside me. My knees went weak and I was on the floor in his bedroom, heavy tears welling in my eyes. Something like a scream erupted out of me, followed by several loud, uncontrollable sobbing. He didn’t even finish his anecdote before I pieced it together.

My insides went cold as ice but hot as lava at the same time. I felt like I was physically falling apart, like my limbs were going to come off, like my surgery stitches were going to pop, like my heart was going to fall out of my chest if I didn’t hold myself. I hunched over, my forehead hitting the carpet as I cried louder.

“I’m… so sorry,” Shawn mumbled from where he sat on the bed.

“No you’re not!” I yelled at him as I sat up, my voice shaky and incoherent. “You could have done… you could have done so many other things before… before…”

“I know…”

“No you don’t! If you knew you wouldn’t have done anything! If you knew, you could have just broken up with me instead of betray me!” Angry tears streamed down my face, blackened by my mascara. I looked as crazy as I felt, as crazy as I just became. “Who was she? Do you love her?”

“No!” Shawn replied, looking at the floor. He had a pained expression on his face. Pain he only brought to himself. “It was just a stupid mistake, I was-” He sighed.

“What?! Say it!”

He got to his feet, looking down at me. “I was mad, okay? I was angry because you refuse to tell me anything! Ever since you left the hospital, you’ve shut me out! You make it so hard for me to even look at you! You make it so hard for me to love you! You’re so difficult to deal with, it’s like you want me to leave!”

My hand went to my stomach, where I was cut open not that long ago. I could feel the thick, bumpy surgery scar under my shirt. I was practically botched, cut open like a pig at a slaughterhouse. It messed with my head for a bit, and I needed even more therapy for it. I have mild trauma from my time in the hospital and it gives Shawn an excuse to cheat on me? Where is the logic in that?

“You made the decision to go out, hit up some random girl, go home with her… and it’s my fucking fault!?” I screamed, standing up once again. No more tears, I actually wanted to punch him. “You betray me, you hurt me…” Okay, more tears. “You throw away everything we have, after it took so long for me trust you, and it’s my fault?”

It’s my fault! It’s my fault! Everything is my fault!

Shawn made big strides towards me, and he grabbed my arm. He was saying something to me, but I was crying so much it made my stomach hurt. His voice was gentle now, and he was shaking me slightly. I tried to yank myself away, how dare he touch me… His hands have been on someone else’s skin. How could he touch me?

“Honey…”

I closed my eyes and shook my head, not wanting to hear the nickname he gave to everybody. He probably gave her the same nickname. It made me feel incredibly sick, I actually wanted to vomit.

“Hey there, little fighter…”

My eyes opened again, only slightly. It was hard to keep my eyes from squinting, because it was suddenly very bright in the room. I also felt wildly sleepy, like I could slip into a permanent coma at any moment. I couldn’t process any of my surroundings, the only thing I was sure of was that I was sitting on a bed, lying at an angle, and someone was holding my right hand and grabbing my left arm.

After blinking a few times, I looked to my left and saw a blonde lady in green scrubs standing next to me. She had thick black frames on and a pen in her bun. She was poking at a machine next to my bed until she realized I was staring at her with a stupid look on my face.

“Hi there, how ya feeling?” she asked, smiling at me like I was toddler.

“Sad,” I replied in a whisper. My throat was incredibly dry. I coughed once. “I think my boyfriend cheated on me.”

“That boyfriend?” the lady asked, pointing across the bed.

I turned my head the other way, finding Shawn sitting at my bedside. He was holding my hand and looking at me like it was fucking Christmas or something.

“You’re too pretty to cheat,” I mumbled. “Only ugly men cheat.”

He chuckled, though his brow furrowed in mild confusion.

“I feel sick,” I announced. “My boyfriend cheated and I feel sick.”

The blonde lady nurse person quickly grabbed a silver bowl from a table that appeared out of nowhere, and she held it for me as I puked in it. She reassured Shawn that that was normal, it was just the anesthesia. Oh yeah, I had surgery.

I fell asleep after that. When I woke up again, the blonde lady was gone, but Shawn was still holding my hand. Now, I knew that was Shawn Mendes, the popular singing guy from the college I went to. I knew that I knew him on some level. But I just stared at him with groggy eyes while he scrolled on his phone with his free hand.

“You’re pretty,” I mumbled. “Are you single?”

He eyes flickered up to me, and a the corners of his mouth went up. “Huh?”

“Are you here with anyone?” I asked.

“Uh, my mom should be coming soon. Stella just left, though.”

“No, like, do you have a date or something? You taken? You’re so cute…”

“Yeah, I’m taken. By you. I’m your boyfriend.”

My eyes widened for the first time. That statement shocked me so much I fell back asleep.

Several things kept me awake in the days after my surgery. For one thing, a nurse came in every hour to check my vitals and my incision site, even at night. I heard Shawn singing to himself whenever I tried to nap. I was pretty sure either his mom, Stella, or both were talking in the room. I felt like I was either balls deep in a coma, or balls deep in insomnia.

Anyway, the surgery was successful. Part of my bowel was removed, and I had to be kept on a liquid diet for a while. I still had a fever that made me slightly delirious. It was like the morphine except my body wasn’t numb. Shawn was quite entertained by my delusions, because I talked way too much about things I normally wouldn’t talk about.

“Don’t tell anyone,” I said to him on day four of fever dreams, “but you’re my favorite person ever, and I’m so lucky to have you.”

He was leaning on the bed, elbows on the thin, lumpy mattress. He was smiling so wide you almost couldn’t notice the bags under his eyes. “Well, you’re my favorite person too, and I’ll tell anyone who will listen.”

“Must be nice to not be scared of your feelings.” I looked at his arm, the one with all the tattoos. Then, I looked at his face. “God, you make me so-”

“So what?” He took my hand in his, and he rubbed my fingers with his thumb. He had a hopeful look in his eyes, like I was going to confess my love for the very first time.

Before my lagging brain could say anything more, a nurse entered the room. Older lady with short grey hair, very smiley. I wasn’t sure what time of the day it was, time didn’t exist in these walls. Maybe it was early, since she was so smiley. Most nurses at night were cranky and sleepy.

“Morning, you two,” she said, walking over to check my vitals on the machines. “You feeling okay, sweetie?”

“I’m good,” I said. “My cut feels warm, though.”

That warm feeling turned out to be a surgical site infection. It was hot, it was red, it was the cause of my fever, and best of all, it smelled and secreted some nasty shit. Needless to say, my hospital stay extended five more days. I had to convince Shawn to go back to work. One of us had to stay busy. He always came back to sleep at the hospital so I wasn't alone.

In other news, I was excused and given full credit for my English final, thank god. No prior studying had been done on my part, so I got lucky. As for research methods, I just had to email my final essay to my professor. Academically, I didn’t have to stress anymore. Living wise, Stella was constantly texting me about which of my belongings should go in which boxes, and where I got my textbooks from because none of them were from the campus bookstore. I had to make Shawn go to campus to help her.

By the time I was properly discharged, all of my things were moved into Shawn’s apartment, and my car was in the parking lot. We stumbled through the front door only to see several boxes lined up on the floor along the wall. I was leaning on Shawn for support, but the hallway was now too crowded for two people.

“Fuck,” Shawn cursed under his breath. “Here, let’s do it this way.”

He moved so he was standing in front of me, and he took both of my hands. Slowly, but surely. I stumbled my way through the hallway, careful not to disturbed the five tiny but deep cuts on my belly. They were still numb from the Vicodin I was given, so it was only a matter of time before the pain kicked in.

“You wanna go to the bed or the couch?” he asked, frequently looking behind himself so as to not trip on anything.

“Couch,” I said, “I wanna watch TV.”

“Alright, here we go.”

Who knew getting to the couch would be so exhausting? I was sat on the soft white cushion in minutes, completely winded. Shawn handed me the remote and smiled.

“Need anything?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. I’m gonna go move those boxes. Let me know if you need anything.”

What I needed was to be useful. Those were my boxes, my belongings. I had to be responsible for them. But no, one wrong move, and I’ll bleed out on Shawn’s white couch.

I couldn’t even lift my legs up and lie down on my side, or reach the handle to recline the seat without straining myself. I could only listen to Shawn move things around, and I could only stare out the massive windows. I had successfully turned into a couch potato in less than five minutes.

Eventually, I settled for watching gaming videos on YouTube. I fell down the rabbit hole that is Legend of Zelda theories. I had nothing else to do, anyway.

Then, my phone went off next to me. I looked at the screen, reading the name of the alarm I had set. It went off every day for the last few months, but weirdly enough I didn't remember it going off while I was in the hospital. Then again, drugs and fever dreams.

The sight of my medication alarm made me gasp softly. I had to get off my birth control and Prozac. Lack of birth control was fine, it just meant that my period would remain irregular. Besides, it’s not like I was having sex at all, not that that’s the reason why I take birth control. Lack of antidepressants would have been bad had I not been on morphine and Vicodin to keep me loopy.

“Babe, can you find me my meds?" I called.

Within minutes, Shawn came over to where I was sitting with the orange bottle and foiled packaging in his hand. He set them down on the coffee table, and then I had to ask him to recline my seat for me. I felt dainty and needy, and not in a good way.

The last of the hospital’s drugs wore off by the time Shawn and I went to bed. The physical act of getting to bed was more strenuous, now that there was nothing numbing me. I had a moderately high pain tolerance, but this shit was enough to keep me awake. I dozed off for minutes at at time before waking up again. Meanwhile, Shawn had knocked out the second his head hit the pillow. He had been moving my boxes into the spare room/his recording studio all day, and he had been running around getting me to the bathroom and walking me around the apartment so I didn’t turn into a full on potato. On top of that, he hadn’t slept much while I was at the hospital. He needed it more than me.

When sleep finally came to me, Shawn took my hand from under the sheets. I was too tired to squeeze it, let him know I was there.

I was up and running in the afternoon. Shawn had to work until the evening, so his mom came and stayed with me. Yes, I internally freaked out. Yes, I spoke to her while I was admitted, but I wasn't alone with her until now.

Karen was more persistent about getting me to my feet, so she took me on walks up and down the hallway of the floor this apartment was on. I felt winded every time, but I knew I needed it.

“So, when are your parents coming?” she asked, not for the first time.

“In the next couple of days,” I replied between huffs of breath. “They got my texts this morning, they’re working on flying over here.”

“Okay, good. I can’t wait to meet them.”

I feigned a smile. While I did miss my mom and dad, I was very nervous about their arrival. Not only was this going to be a belated hospital visit, this was also the first time they would be meeting Shawn and his family. Lowkey, I wanted to die. Lowkey, I’d rather be under the scalpel again.

Karen and I talked some more as we strolled through the corridor. I was able to finally tell her things about me that didn’t have to do with my illness. I told her about my goal of getting my Bachelors in psychology, and how much I loved my dealership job. You know, things your boyfriend’s mom would like to hear.

“Do you plan on staying in Toronto when you finish college?” she asked.

“I haven’t fully decided yet,” I said, “but it’s not off the table.”

“I imagine you’d like to keep living with Shawn if you stay.”

For once, I hesitated. It made me nervous. Was I supposed to be outwardly obsessed with her son, say I’d love nothing more than to be at his side all the time? I didn’t know how to sugar coat serious things like that, so I decided to be honest.

“Maybe. I mean, I’m only here because I had surgery and can’t travel.” I’m supposed to be home. “The only plan I have is to work in my field of study until I can open my own practice, wherever that may be. But I do love it here in Toronto, and I… I love Shawn.”

His mother was looking ahead as we walked, but she smiled at my sentiment. She was quiet, though, which prompted me to keep rambling.

“Like, if he and I are still together when we graduate, then yeah, we could live together. Properly, y’know, not while I’m recovering from surgery.”

Karen nodded in approval. “You’re realistic. That’s good. It’s good for him as well.”

I internally relaxed. Finally, a rational mom.

“You know Shawn is happy with you, right?” she said to me. “I’m sure he tells you, but I think you need to hear it from someone outside the relationship.”

“Really?” I asked. I felt a hint of doubt in my mind, but I wasn’t sure why. Karen was right, Shawn did tell me all his thoughts and feelings all the time. I just had the smallest feeling that maybe I was being lied to.

“Oh yes. The day he took you out on a first date, he told me… ‘Mum, I have a really good feeling about her. I haven’t felt this way about anyone before.’ He was over the moon, and he still is.”

My cold ass heart jumped for joy. I let myself believe I wasn’t being lied to.

Karen had to leave about an hour before Shawn was off his shift, meaning I had to be a couch potato for that long. It wasn’t a problem as long as I didn’t have to use the bathroom, and not much was getting into my system these days. After the liquid diet from the hospital, I was put on a “soft” diet. Most of what I ate was bananas, applesauce, and white rice. Oh, and soup. So much soup. Neither Shawn nor I cooked, so he always brought me soup or pasta from a shop downtown.

Shawn had decided to eat soft foods with me so I wouldn’t feel alone. But I knew he was most likely devouring whatever fast food was nearby his flower shop. I knew because I would probably do the same damn thing.

“Okay, they were out of chicken noodle,” he called as he entered the apartment, “but they had broccoli and cheddar, I know you like that!”

He made it to the couch, sat next to me, and kissed me on the cheek. Then, he set the brown paper bag down on the coffee table. He carefully took out the large styrofoam cup, but paused when he saw what I had on the TV.

“Thought you would have had enough of hospitals by now,” he commented, his chipper mood suddenly turned.

I shrugged. “Grey’s is comforting.”

Shawn sat back with my soup and handed it to me. “Can we watch something else?”

“Aw, don’t you wanna watch Lexie kick the can again?” I joked, giggling.

For whatever reason, he wasn’t amused. “Please. Change it.”

My laughter immediately died down. Then, I grabbed the remote and switched to The Office. “Sorry.”

Shawn had been hovering ever since I was admitted to the hospital. He frequently asked how my incisions were doing, if I felt faint, or if I needed anything at all. His hand was on my forehead more than it was sweetly cupping my cheek. He stayed by my side every minute. The only other thing he did was work at the flower shop. I wasn’t even sure if he had met up with Teddy for songwriting lately.

“How was work?” I asked him, nudging his side.

“I’ve seen too many roses today,” he replied, lying his head back on the cushion. “We have so many options, but everyone just wants roses. Or daisies.”

“Thought you liked roses.”

“Yeah, but when you see as many flowers as I do... “

“I wish I could go visit you,” I told him. “I’ve never actually seen where you work.”

“Mm, it’s a small place with a lot of light. Might be too out of your comfort zone.”

I made a face. Confused, but also mildly annoyed. Instead of snapping at him, I remained patient. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He picked up his head again and looked at me. “I’m just worried about you, my little fighter.”

“Well, I’ll be able to work again in ten days, and I’m on a soup diet. I just can’t travel on a plane or anything yet.” More specifically, I couldn’t go back home. I tried to adjust myself so I could look at Shawn properly, but a certain sting on my abdomen kept me still. “Have you sang lately? Do you have any gigs booked?”

Shawn looked at the TV and shook his head. “I couldn’t go even if I had one. I’ve got a sick girlfriend here, after all.”

Maybe I was already going crazy from the impending cabin fever, but that kinda hurt. A sting of guilt when through my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He changed the subject. “So, some of my friends are asking about you. They wanna come visit.”

The guilt only increased. Lately, I’ve been a lot more vulnerable than I was comfortable with. I was practically helpless in front of my boyfriend, who had only seen me as strong and independent up until my bowel crapped out on me. This was different territory, and I didn't like it.

“Not while I’m like this,” I said sheepishly. It wasn’t the first time I turned away visitors. I only allowed Shawn, Stella, and Karen to see me at the hospital.

“That’s okay,” Shawn replied. “Whenever you’re ready, you got people.”

Normally he would press the topic. In the earlier stages of our relationship, it was hard to come around to meeting Shawn’s friends. Almost none of them were expecting someone like Shawn to date someone like me. As always, I was my quiet and mysterious self, and it was a little off putting to them. Not to mention, my small reputation of sleeping around had gotten to some of them in the past. It was frowned upon when it was me, but if I recall correctly, my boyfriend used to be the exact same way. However, Shawn always gave me a push to be more engaging and reminded me to give people a chance, but this time he just let me have my way.

I was wide awake that night, and it wasn’t from my surgery pain.

It’s been two days since I was discharged. A week and a half since my surgery. Stella flew home to Florida without saying goodbye, and I was still stuck on not having any other visitors. I didn��t even tell my own friends, like the guys from my video game club. Most of them probably went home for the summer anyway. Now, Shawn was acting weird. Was he mad at me because I was keeping him from his music? Was he upset that I was taking up space in his apartment?

I turned my head to look at his sleeping figure. The moonlight shone in through the window, so I could barely make out the features of his body. For once, he didn’t look tense or stressed. He kept a physical distance from me, though. We couldn’t spoon like normal because I couldn’t lay on my side. Last night he still made the effort to hold my hand. Never had I wanted to turn to him and stroke his curly hair more than I did tonight.

Shawn suddenly twitched in his sleep. Not dramatically, but just enough to catch my attention. He was lying on his front, head facing me. He twitched again, and let out a small noise. It was a monotonous hum, lasted a good five seconds.

Delicately, I placed my hand on his bare shoulder. It was a little awkward because I couldn’t physically turn my body towards him, but I was still able to touch him.

Another groan left his mouth, distressed. Then, he yelped and twitched, now a little more spastic. He gasped and groaned into his pillow, so I gently shook him.

“Hey, hey babes. Wake up,” I said weakly. “Please wake up.”

Shawn woke with one final jerk of his shoulder. Panting, he turned onto his back and placed his hands over his face. “Fuck… Oh, fuck…”

“You’re okay,” I told him, touching his arm. “It’s okay. Just a dream, it’s okay.”

He took my hand and kissed my knuckles, all while trying to control his breath. Then he turned his body towards me. “I love you.” His voice shook in a way that made my heart ache.

I only returned the pressure on his hand, watching his face. It was probably for the best that I couldn’t see the exact expression he had on. I really hated seeing him in distress.

“I need to hear you say it,” he pleaded, holding my hand to his chest. “I need to hear your voice.”

“Shawn-”

“Please...”

“I love you. You know I love you,” I told him gently. “Do… do you wanna talk about what just happened?”

He shook his head. “No. No, I just wanted to hear your voice for a minute. I love you so much.”

That wouldn’t be the only night he would yell in his sleep and wake up shaking. That kept me up more than any surgical pain.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #fourtristattoosspring #shawn x goth gf #oh yeah abt that beginning part #i didnt want it to be canon canon ya feel???#i played with the idea but i Did Not want that to be their demise #BUT I RLY WANTED TO WRITE IT SO THERE #its a fever dream lmfao #and no she does not remember it #she remembers the feeling of utter betrayal but shes not sure Where she remembers it from ygm?#so yeah theres that explanation lol #time to scream at the video games now gnight everybody

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hbostolemysoul · 6 years ago

Text

Band of Brothers fluff alphabet: Ronald Speirs

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

While Speirs appreciates many things about you physically, the thing that attracts him most to you is how you don’t seem to fear him like all the other soldiers. Unlike the band of idiots (as you lovingly call them) you don’t take rumours at face value, there is more to Speirs than a scary reputation.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Speirs had a not so pleasant childhood. So the whole family thing scares him a bit. The last thing he wants is for his child to grow up with someone who doesn’t know how to be a father. You understand where his hesitation comes from, it also provides you a starting point into reassuring him that he is already a better man/father than his was due to the fact that he is worrying over the wellbeing of your hypothetical children.

When baby Speirs does come along it is almost comical how frightened Ron looks as you plop the tiny human into his arms for the first time. In true Speirs fashion the two stare each other down until your newborn yawns and closes their eyes. Ron doesn’t smile much, but he smiled then (even though he denies it).

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Ron spent most of the war alone in his own foxhole due to his reputation. He got used to sleeping alone until he joined Easy and you made it your mission to unravel the mystery that was Ronald Speirs. He would never admit to cuddling out loud…but there were times when he woke up with you cuddled into his side, and his arm may or may not have found its way around you, holding you just a bit closer.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Believe it or not, dancing. (most would believe not).

Ron is actually a wonderful dancer, and when its just the two of you, whether in your home or at a local bar he enjoys holding your close and swaying to the music.

E = Everything (You are my __ (e.g. my life, my world…))

“you are something else…” (said in response to you accepting the feared cigarette he offered you upon your first meeting)

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Ron is nothing, if not emotionally constipated. Knowing him he probably convinced himself that the tightening in his chest when he looked at you was due to indigestion.

He knew he loved you when you found him after Grant had been shot. He was angry, and everyone had given him a wide berth after he left the drunk replacement alive, and to the MPs. You just leaned against the door frame of his room and casually offered him a cigarette. The gesture calmed something in him, the raging fury behind his eyes dying out just a little bit. Your small smile when he took the aforementioned cigarette definitely didn’t help the tightening in his chest…he also now knew that he could not blame his feelings on indigestion anymore.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Ron is an intense guy. Most things with him are fiery and passionate. It isn’t until later in your relationship (where he feels more secure) that things become gentle, yet somehow more passionate than before.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Ronald Speirs does not hold hands…at least not in public, and definitely not around his men. More often then not his hand will find its way to your lower back, a gentle pressure that is all too quickly removed as he continues on his way. Most might find that infuriating but knowing Ron the way you do you know it's his way of checking in on you, and letting you know he is still there.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

You were one of the first to approach him other than Winters, Nixon, and Lipton, when he was reassigned to Easy company. You were genuinely friendly, a completely unexpected occurrence considering he knew the kinds of rumours that floated around about him. To further test if you were genuine he offered you a cigarette, you smiled and accepted pulling a lighter out of your pocket and offering the flame to him as well. Speirs knew then that you would be trouble.

Meanwhile, Perconte and Luz visibly froze in the background. Shooting fearful glances at each other as they watched in horror as you accepted without a moment’s hesitation. Speirs shot them a look soon after you left, it was in those few moments that both Luz and Perconte decided that this was a story that didn’t need to be shared after all.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Yes. Definitely yes. Will he admit to it? Hell no.

When you go out he is always touching you in some way, a hand at your back, or around your waist. It's not that he doesn’t trust you, or think that you aren’t capable of kicking ass should someone not understand the word no. It's more a reassurance to him. Ron is used to being alone, an outcast of sorts. He has a lot more insecurity than anyone (except you) may know. You can feel the way he pulls you a bit closer when other men look your way, you’ve learned to just lean into his touch and reassure him that you aren’t going anywhere.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

He did. The war was all but over, and in classic Easy fashion a majority of the men had been drinking steadily most of the evening, Ron included. You had taken over a shift at the medical station, so Roe would finally go get some god damned sleep. Speirs found his way in, made eye contact with you and just walked over and kissed you. You could taste the champagne on his lips, it was intense, but come to think of it most things about Ron were. When he broke away he just stared at you, gauging your reaction for a few moments. You just smiled, grabbed him by the collar and initiated another mind-blowing kiss.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

You do. You were being sent back home with some of the other guys (not by your own free will mind you) the army had been grateful for your service, but the idea of having a woman in war any longer than absolutely necessary put the higher-ups on edge. Ron had been avoiding you since he found out. He could be frustratingly elusive when he wanted to be. It took you almost an entire day before you tracked him down on some stupid balcony, the look he shot you was guarded. While things with Ron had been relatively new, he had opened up enough that you knew he had been distancing himself so it would hurt less when you “inevitably left him”. What he didn’t realize was that while you were physically being shipped back home, there was no way in hell that you were ‘leaving’ him. The speech you gave him was nothing short of inspirational. It took a lot to learn how to “operate a Speirs”, but you had finally cracked the code as he visibly relaxed as you pulled him into a gentle kiss. “You know I put up with your moody crap because I love you right?” you said half-jokingly, he just smiled and pulled you closer. Perhaps whispering the words into your hair as he did so.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

You waiting for him at the train station as he finally arrived back home. While he thought you were always beautiful, it was something else entirely to see you out of uniform and in civilian clothes. He never truly felt like he had a home before, but having you there waiting for him with watery eyes and a big smile changed that. You were his home.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Speirs had a habit of ‘collecting’ shiny things while you were together in Europe. It's safe to say that you were only slightly exasperated when packages of silver plates and other things began arriving to your home during the months that you were separated.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

White. Like the snow in Bastogne when he first met you. Even now when it snows Ron can still picture the way the soft snowflakes would find their way into your lashes and hair as ‘forced’ your way into his foxhole.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Ronald Speirs does not do pet names…until you are married, and the words ‘Mrs. Speirs’ being lightly rasped into your neck bring about a whole new meaning.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Ron likes the old-timey silver lighters. He has an old one he found over in Germany that he carries with him to this day.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Bed. He likes to stay in bed, more specifically he likes YOU in bed with him.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Ron doesn’t do emotions. So the first time he saw you cry he had a bit of internal panic. Is it safe to touch you? Should he get you a tissue? Does he need to go hurt someone? It isn’t until you grumble to him to just ‘get over here and hold me’ that he finally starts to figure things out. Safe to say he can now pick up on your moods quite easily, and whenever possible already has you in his arms before the tears begin to fall.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

He is more of a listener. Comes from a lifetime of being a loner you guess. But he loves watching the way you light up and get animated about certain things when you talk.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

He smokes. Which he knows he should try and quit, especially with baby Speirs around. It’s worst for him at night. You often times find your bed empty in the middle of the night, but the gentle snores (plural Daddy Speirs + baby Speirs) coming from the nursery put at ease. When you first started noticing his absences you would go looking for him. You would always find him in the nursery, the baby held gently yet securely to his chest as he softly spoke to them, sometimes there would be tiny baby coo’s in response.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Now that you have ‘domesticated your Speirs’ he isn’t all that showy. But you’ll be damned if you ever forget how he would smile cheekily as he wandered around Germany carrying as much silver as possible.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

It would be small, probably a courthouse thing. He isn’t close to his family, and yours lived so far away that it didn’t make sense for them to travel so far. Regardless your family sent their blessings for you and Ron. It wasn’t some fairy tale wedding, but it suited the both of your just fine.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Maps- (covered by Freya Ridings)

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Yep. Small and to the point. Ron honestly would have been okay with a big wedding if that is what you had wanted. All that really mattered to him was that you wanted to be his wife.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

You get a cat. Mostly because your nosey neighbors hate them, and Ron hates your nosey neighbors.

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #easy company #ron speirs #Ronald speirs #ron speirs x reader #Ronald speirs x reader #fluff alphabet

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imagine-darksiders · 6 years ago

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So, I came up with this idea based on the song Creep by Radiohead, where Strife is absolutely in love with his S/O but doesn't think he's good enough to be with them because of his past, his appearance and what he has done and what he is capable of doing. Do I think you and your amazing writing skills could expand upon this? Yes. So please, m a k e m e s u f f e r ❤

Hi hi! Did my best but I’m rushing off this morning, so sorry if this seems hasty.

Strife has always hated the mirror in your bedroom - A big, ugly thing hanging on the wall opposite your bed, all sharp edges and clumsy, badly made details carved into its frame.

When he first looked into it, he made a revolted noise in the back of his throat and you explained that it was a family heirloom, passed down to you from your great, great grandfather.

You’d thought Strife was referring to the mirror….

He didn’t bother to correct you.

Everything else about your bedroom, he loves. From the messy pile of clothes on your chair to the large, sliding window that he treats as his personal VIP entrance.

Tonight, like many nights before it, the horseman picks his way up the side of your house, his bulky armour proving no obstacle given his inexhaustible strength. He clings to your sill with one gauntleted hand and uses the other to nudge your window open carefully.

You do have a door, as you’re constantly reminding him, but he isn’t about to admit that he lost the spare key you’d given him, and he’s long since learned that you take exception to having your front door bashed in.

He clambers through the window as gracefully as he can, lamenting that he wasn’t gifted with Death’s agility, before thudding dully into your bedroom, his blood-drenched boots leaving dark, coppery footprints in the carpet.

You would no doubt be annoyed in the morning, though right now, he couldn’t care less.

Ambling over to your bed, the horseman stops beside the headboard and stares down at you, his brows pinched together and fists clenching so hard, the metal gauntlets creak under the pressure.

He’d done something…..bad. Well, you’d call it bad, and that stung at his heart worse than anything.

He hadn’t cared about anyone’s opinion until you came along.

It was just another mission, but it went so wrong. Yes, he accomplished the task he set out to do, but innocents had been caught in the crossfire. Far too many civilians died needlessly today, all because he grew impatient and moved too early. A rookie mistake.

From the day he became a horseman of the apocalypse, Strife never gave collateral damage a second thought. He did what was necessary to succeed and if people got in his way, more fool them.

But then, he met you….

It’s funny. He’d never appreciated the value of life until he found one he wanted to protect.

You patiently showed him sympathy, empathy and a myriad of other human emotions that far exceed his abilities to feel. But with a little time, he began to learn.

Despite only having the lifespan that barely touched a century, you were never in a rush, like he would be if he only had a hundred years to live. Oftentimes, he feels as though he’s always in a hurry, constantly riding on the high of adrenaline and giving himself no time to slow down….

With stiff fingers, Strife brings his hands up to undo the clasp on the back of his helmet and tugs it off, allowing it to drop onto the floor at his feet.

Meanwhile, you lay sound asleep in your bed, one arm tucked underneath your pillow and the other tangled up around something he can’t quite make out in the darkness. Squinting, the mighty horseman collapses to a knee beside your bed - still managing to tower over you - and leans closer to see that it’s the shabby, green old scarf he’d left at your home months ago.

The horseman recoils and lets out a choked grunt.

He didn’t know you kept the thing, let alone cuddled it in your sleep.

Your small fingers curl around the scarf in your sleep, twisting up the scratchy, threadbare ends.

Strife’s yellow eyes blink slowly. Had you…missed him? He’s only been gone for a few weeks…

The stench of blood, sweat and entrails finally snatches his attention from your sleeping face and he scrunches up his nose. His silver armour is so stained with blood - innocent blood - that he can’t escape its oppressive odour. It slithers up his nose like smoke and settles there. The taste of it on his tongue is hot and rancid, although any traces of stray droplets that had seeped through the cracks in his helmet have long been washed away by saliva. But the memory of its lingers like a bad aftertaste and churns his stomach.

The horseman’s teeth clench. He needs something - anything familiar that can abrogate the coppery stench invading his nostrils.

Swallowing thickly, he runs his hand blindly over your carpet, knowing that you have a habit of leaving your day clothes where they drop after changing into your pyjamas.

It doesn’t take long before his searching fingers find something soft and he immediately brings it up to bury his broad nose in the fabric. One of your shirts, the one depicting that ‘band’ you like so much…

Your beautifully familiar scent rushes into his nostrils with a long, loud inhale, his chest expanding to accommodate so much air. It’s so strong, chasing out the acridity of burnt flesh and gun-smoke and replacing them with something far more pleasant. So overwhelmed, Strife’s mouth opens and takes a piece of your shirt between his sharp canines. Biting down hard, eyes squeezed shut, he nudges his face in deeper, huffing in breath after blessed breath until he can’t even remember what blood smells like.

When the stench of innocent liquid no longer threatens to overtake his senses, he finally lifts his nose out of your shirt.

His anguished expression falls slightly as he glimpses your peaceful face, your eyelids fluttering restlessly, caught in the swell of a dream.

Indulging himself in a moment of selfishness, Strife dares to believe that you might be dreaming of him…

Suddenly, he blinks upon noticing that his hand has crept steadily towards your face of its own accord, so he snatches it back, frowning at the treacherous appendage. How could he think to wake you when you’re sleeping so peacefully. He’d say you looked angelic, but doing so would be an insult to you. You’re ten thousand times more extraordinary than any angel he’s ever met.

Creator, he feels like such a beast. This whole act of climbing in through your window, watching you sleep and smelling your clothes…It all just seems so….perverse.

You know he does this, of course. You’ve woken up enough times to find his fingers stroking reverently through your hair, or his ear pressed to your heart, seeking the comforting beat. There have even been a few occasions where you’d been roused from sleep by the sound of contented grunting and the sensation of your horseman’s gentle mouth suckling tenderly on the sweet spot between your legs. You knew better than to ask questions during those particular instances. They always seemed to precede a bad occurrence, though Strife would never tell you what happened to him, only that he just needed to forget.

But tonight, there’s a tangible heaviness that’s settled over his hard chest. He didn’t know it was doubt until he thought long and hard about his relationship with you.

When you met, you’d hit it off surprisingly quickly.

You liked him, you even said as much, and it didn’t take long for him to warm up to you in turn. A few weeks later, and you called him your ‘best friend’ for the first time. Something stirred in the horseman’s immortal soul at that moment, something foreign and unfamiliar. Three months later, he found out what it was.

Love.

And that baffled him more than any other mystery the universe had ever thrown his way. A hundred years ago, if someone told him he would one day fall hard and fast for a human, he might have shot them.

Gradually, Strife wills himself stand up, tearing his eyes off you and catching sight of his own movement in the mirror. Lip curling into a cruel sneer, the horseman stalks over to it, stopping just shy of a foot from his reflection.

Muscles quivering, he stares into his own eyes, a terrible rage roiling in his chest that slowly builds to a violent crescendo.

Damn that mirror. Damn it to Oblivion for making him see what he is; Big and loud and dangerous, a force of nature so destructive, it has no business being in the home of someone as trusting and golden-hearted as you.

He curls his hands into tight fists and snarls, teeth gnashing frustratedly as he finds himself stuck, trying to gaze at you through the glass but only seeing his huge brutality standing in the way. He can’t see past himself to you. With an enraged bellow, Strife draws his fist back and - before he can register what he’s about to do - hurls in right into the surface of your mirror.

The resounding ‘C R A C K !’ shatters the peaceful serenity of your home.

Behind the horseman, you bolt upright in bed with a sharp gasp, followed by a slurred stuttering of, “Wh-who’s there!?”

After a few seconds of fumbling around in the dark, your hand finds the bedside lamp and you flick the switch, one hand clasped around the pocket knife that Death made you keep under your pillow.

Blinking rapidly in the sudden, harsh light, you gasp when you spot Strife, hunched over on himself, his shoulders heaving and his right arm elbow-deep in your bedroom wall.

Despite the state you woke up in, you instantly relax at the sight of him and nearly flop back onto the pillow. Brain still fuzzy with sleep, you scrub at your eyes. “Strife? What’re you doing here?”

Hearing your soft voice, his body goes rigid, though he doesn’t reply. Instead, he remains stock still, glaring down at the hole he’d punched through your mirror. Sharp little fragments of glass litter the carpet and he balks at the sudden thought of one getting stuck in your bare feet.

“Strife?”

Letting a breath of air hiss out through his teeth, he wrenches his hand out of the wall and slowly turns to face you, his once glittering eyes now subdued and morose.

“What am I doing here?” he spits, echoing your words back at you before dragging his gaze off your perplexed face, “S’a damn good question…”

You’re about to reply when you notice the shattered mirror and your expression droops considerably, igniting Strife’s self loathing that burns like a furnace in his throat. He braces himself for the inevitable, for you to look up at him with those big, sleepy eyes and ask in a soft voice, why he had destroyed your precious family heirloom.

But, once again, you surprise him. How is it you always managed to do that? Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you get to your feet and pad softly across the room. “Something happened,” you murmur, slowly reaching out to the usually invulnerable horseman, “Strife, whatever it is, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

You can see his lips twitching up over his fangs, a clear sign that your words aren’t having the calming effect you want them to.

Suddenly, with all the force of a whirlwind, he surges forwards, forcing you to stop in your tracks and stumble back a few steps, away from the broken glass. “What are- unf!”

You let out a grunt, finding your shoulders gripped by unshakable hands as you’re guided backwards into the wall beside your bed with a dull thud. Blinking, you crane your neck back and catch his yellow glare boring into you, relentless.

A tense moment passes between you before he abruptly lowers his pale face down to your shoulder and takes his hands off your shoulders, pressing them into the wall on either side of your head. Licking your lips uncertainly, you lift one of your own hands and slide it around the back of his neck, carding your fingers up through his spiked, black hair.

So softly, you barely hear him, Strife hums against your skin, “You tell me…. why I’m here…”

“I-What?”

His tone takes on an urgent lilt. “Tell me, what the Hell something like me, is doing with someone like you.”

Shocked, you open your mouth to speak only to find your throat too clogged to get any words out. Swallowing around a lump, you try again, desperate to rectify the situation. Whatever had happened, had it made him question his willingness to be in a relationship with you; a human? You knew some in other species look down upon humans as ‘lesser beings’ on account of their shorter lifespan and general inexperience with existence, but you never imagined Strife would be one of them.

“I-I…I know I’m just a human,” you manage to stammer, winding your fingers into his hair, unwilling to let him go but terrified of making him stay if he doesn’t want to, “And..and if you want to leave, then….then you should. I don’t know what happened tonight, but I want you to be happy.”

Strife’s mind reels, struck with the realisation that you think this is about him not wanting to be with you. Groaning, he bares his teeth against your neck and presses closer to you, caging you to the wall as though afraid you’d try to escape if he moved even an inch. “Creators, no,” he growls, “No, no. You’ve got it all wrong, Kid. Why are you with me!? Why don’t you hate me?!” Inhaling the smell of you through his nose, he grumbles gently, “I do.”

Oh….Oh that’s….not what you’d been expecting. You knew he struggled with self doubt a lot of the time, but this?…..“You h-…Strife? You hate yourself?”

“I didn’t hate myself until I met YOU!” He slams his closed fist into the wall and you flinch, unable to withhold a gasp of shock. In an instant, he pulls his head away from your neck and meets your round, startled eyes. Ever so slowly, his thick, black brows knit together and he groans, teeth bared as he drops his head again, this time pressing it gently into your forehead. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, “I didn’t mean that…I just…-” He exhales roughly, his breath gusting roughly over your lips. “- I didn’t know there was anything about myself to hate until I started wanting to be liked. And…I only started wanting to be liked after I met you.”

He shakes his head when you try to speak, cutting you off. “I don’t give a goddamn shit about anyone else’s opinion of me,” he rasps, drawing his head away again, “just yours.” If his eyes blazed with anymore desperation, you fear they might burn out entirely. “You’re my compass, kiddo,” he whispers behind a shaky exhale, “You know about some of the things I’ve done. You know I’ve got all kinds of blood on my hands. I don’t tell you half of the heinous things I did in the name of ‘balance,’ but I think you know. I think you more than you let on.” The horseman’s chest rises and falls. “So, why the hell are you still here? I need you to tell me….why you’re with me. Please? I just -… need to…to-”

He growls at his own awkward explanation. In his ears it sounds clumsy, like the ramblings of a drunken maker, but you get the gist of it, your face twisting up with worry.

“Oh, Strife,” you sigh, both of your hands finding his thick shoulders and guiding him down until he has to remove his hands from the wall in order to kneel before you, his head still coming up to your collar bones. You always privately marvelled at his size. Carefully cradling the back of his skull, you pull him forwards and tuck his head underneath your chin, inadvertently flattening the spiked ends of his ebony hair. “What have you been telling yourself?”

Heaving in an almighty breath, he lifts his enormous hands to your waist, steadying himself against you and asking defeatedly, “How long before you leave me here on my own?”

“Strife,” you say in a stern voice, pushing his head off you so he can look you in the eyes and see the sincerity glistening in them, hard as steel, “I’ve only got a hundred years, and I wanna give them all to you, okay? I want you to have them all. You’ve saved my life so many times, it might as well belong to you. I’m not going anywhere, big guy…”

It doesn’t feel like you’ve conveyed just how irreplaceable his friendship is to you, but you hope it’s enough.

For several, long moments, he remains in place, breathing considerably more shallow than it had been earlier, and his grip on your sides a damn sight less vice-like. Eventually, the large horseman rumbles contentedly deep in his throat when you snake your hands further around his neck and lean forwards to rest your chin on his shoulder. “Sorry about your mirror,” he mumbles lamely, incapable of forming the grateful words he needs desperately to tell you.

“Eh, it was ugly as sin anyway.”

That pulls a rumbling chuckle from his throat. “Yeah. It was, wasn’t it?”

You allow him to remain slumped over on his knees against you for some time, until his massive weight finally begins to wear on you, and you grimace, his hard chest plate digging uncomfortably into your torso. “Come on. Let’s get you into bed. You look like you need a rest.”

And Strife, the sharpshooting, loudmouthed horseman of the apocalypse, only nods gladly, letting a comparatively tiny human take him by the hand and guide him onto the too-small bed that he can never quite fit his feet onto, no matter how protectively - possessively - he curls himself around you.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #strife #self loathing #human reader #he needs a hu

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tf-decepti-stories · 6 years ago

Note

could u write some nsfw cliffjumper 👀?? if not its completely fine!!

(Yes, yes I can.)

You carefully picked your way down the side of the ravine, looserocks and dirt sliding ahead of you. Once you’d reached the bottom you wiped yourhands clean while trying to suppress the little bubble of nervous excitement.This was a special place, where you’d first met him. You’d been down in thebottom of the ravine to look for newly exposed rock with fossils to collect.There had been the roar of an engine coming closer and then…

“Hey, you’re late!” The voice came from the red mechlounging against a boulder further along the ravine.

“Not everyone can turn into a sweet looking car, you know!”It didn’t stop the smile from breaking out across your face as you quickly ranover to greet Cliffjumper. Since that day when you’d first met him a couplemonths ago you both had been meeting here. A secret place for a strange, secretrelationship.

Cliffjumper was always so gentle with you, your organic bodyso fragile compared to his own. You scrambled up along his side to sit on his chest.He was warm, not the uncomfortable heat of a car that had been lying in thesun, but the pleasant heat of a living body. Despite the fact that he couldhide himself among human-made vehicles he wasn’t like anything on Earth.

“Have you finally told Optimus about us?” You asked eagerly,leaning back when he lifted a servo for you to use as a back rest.

The red mech glanced away, suddenly not wanting to look atyou. You hated that, his blue optics were beautiful. “Not yet, but I’m workingon it. Gotta wear him and Ratchet down.”

You wrinkled your nose a little in disappointment. “Can youat least stay longer this time?”

“No, just a short visit. I’m sorry, love.” Because of hisgenuine disappointment, you couldn’t even be angry. It wasn’t like he didn’twant to spend time with you. Cliffjumper needed to do his work too.

A slow smirk spread across your lips as you ducked your headand glanced up at his face through your lashes. “Well then… I suppose we shouldmake the most of our time?”

Now you had his attention. Cliffjumper blinked at you andslowly smiled in return. A little hopeful, a little devilish. “Oh? And what didyou have in mind?”

You stood up and pushed his servo aside and slid playfullydown his front and over his interface panel. Turning, you now stood between histhighs and braced your hands against him. Already his optics were widened,excited. There was a click before his interface panel opened before you and apartially pressurized spike lifted out.

Cliffjumper’s spike was red, little silver biolights ran upthe length of him. You reached out and gently stroked your fingers up theunderside. He moaned at the touch, head tilting back against his boulder. Pleasuringhim always gave you a little thrill. The idea of him giving you so much trust,and that you trusted him never to hurt you.

The smooth metal of his spike was hot enough against your handsto err just on the side of uncomfortable. Your mouth wrapped around the tip,slowly sucking as you swirled your tongue to savor the sharp, acrid flavor ofyour lover. He groaned and you could feel the shiver that went through his frameas he struggled not to thrust his hips up into your mouth.

It only drove you onward, taking as much of his spike intoyour mouth as you could. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked and stroked yourhands up from the base of his spike to your lips. One of Cliffjumper’s servoscurled around your back, cupping you closer to him. You could feel the tremblesgoing through his frame.

You dragged your mouth back until the tip of his spike almostpopped out of your mouth, sucking hard on him. Cliffjumper’s engine hitched upto a higher rumble an you glanced up at him through your lashes again. His blueoptics were blown wide as he stared back down at you, such an expression oflust and love combined on his face. You quickly bobbed your head back downalong his spike while stroking your hands up again.

Cliffjumper’s servo tightened around you as he cried out.The sharply metallic taste of transfluid filled your mouth as you worked toswallow it all down before you choked. Your hands moved, stroking up and downhis spike as he finished his overload. You were panting hard when you finallydrew off your lover’s spike and leaned back into his servo.

“Well.” Cliffjumper’s voice crackled from his overload. “That’sone way to spend our time.”

“Feel free to repay the favor.” You lifted your eyebrows inclear challenge, face flushed and body already tingling with anticipation.

“Oh, now that I can-“ He cut himself off and suddenly sat upstraighter, optics narrowing. Cliffjumper lifted his free hand up to his audial.“Ah, come on, Ratch, I’ve barely even gotten- Yes I- But- Alright, alright, I’mgoing.” The last words came out in a growl.

You knew what that meant. A slow sigh left you beforepushing away from Cliffjumper’s servo. “Duty calls?”

He looked at you and nodded sharply. “Ratchet thinks hepicked up a nearby energon signature. I’ve gotta go check it out.” Cliffjumper shiftedto lean closer and kiss you. “But, it shouldn’t take too long to check it out.Wait for me?”

Your heart gave a happy little thump as you lifted yourhands to cradle his face and give him a quick kiss back. “Of course I’ll wait.Come back quick.”

Cliffjumper grinned and stood up. “Naturally, I can’t leavea lover waiting. I’ve got a reputation to up hold!” He easily leapt up from theravine, transforming into a red car before he’d even touched down. His enginerevved, dust swirling into the air as he drove away.

You settled down against the boulder he’d been using towait. Of course you’d wait.

(Reminder: As stated in the rules, I have a habit of falling into slightly angst... If you want no angst, put that in the request, please! I’ll admit, it’s hard not to with poor Cliff.)

#tfp #cliffjumper x reader #answered ask #valveplug #sticky #transfomers

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ourhappylies · 6 years ago

Text

M’Baku Fluff Alphabet (Black Panther)

Author: Cherry🍒 Requested: Anonymous.

A = Attractive what do they find attractive about the other?

M’Baku finds your selflessness and inner strength to be beautiful. He admires you for being able to care and give so much to others.

B = Baby do they want a family? why/why not?

There is nothing M’Baku wants more than to have children. He pictures a future with you and a few little angels running around causing havoc in the home he’ll have with you.

C = Cuddle how do they cuddle?

He isn’t much of a cuddler but he loves sleeping with you as close to him as possible. He’s happy as long as some part of you is touching him and he can feel the warmth radiating from your body.

D = Dates what are dates with them like?

When M’Baku takes you on dates, he tried to keep it simple but still make it a lovely experience that lets you two bond even more. He loves to take you on picnics in the evening, where you two can watch the sunset and eat a selection of your favourite foods. Then after the suns gone down, he’ll lay with you and watch the stars while talking.

E = Everything you are my ____ (e.g my life, my world…)

“You are my one true love. No one else could ever make me feel the way you do,” M’Baku sighed as his lips captured your own.

F = Feelings when did they know they were falling in love?

M’Baku knew he was falling in love when he couldn’t help but smile each time he looked at you, heard your name, and thought of you. He just couldn’t get you off of his mind, and he didn’t want to either.

G = Gentle are they gentle? If so, how?

Despite M’Baku’s tough and intimidating outside appearance, he’s really a big softie on the inside. He loves you with his whole heart and would never, ever do something that would result in you being hurt.

H = Hand/Hold how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?

He’ll gently hold your hand when he’s walking with you. His fingers will intertwine with yours and pull you closer to him.

I = Impression first impression/s

M’Baku thought you were an angel when he first laid eyes on you. Your beauty, both inside and out, shined brightly and radiated from you. He thought it was strange, but from the moment he met you, he knew you were his soulmate.

J = Joker are they into pulling pranks?

M’Baku likes to mess with people’s heads and joke around but not very often. He likes to maintain a serious demeanour. M’Baku loves to make you laugh though, and he’ll do everything he can to hear your laughter.

K = Kisses how do they kiss?

Breathtakingly but dearly. He pours all of his emotions into the kiss, showing you the love and adoration he feels for you.

L = Love who says I love you first?

M’Baku told you on your birthday. He planned you a special evening that he hoped would stay with you for the rest of your life. After eating the meal that M’Baku has specially prepared for you, he pulled you up from your seat and asked you to dance with him. After he gently spun you, he pulled you back and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he murmured the three words to you.

M = Memory their favourite moment together

His favourite memory is of the first time he let you sit on his throne. The pure childish excitement, the massive smile and the glimmer of happiness in your eyes made his own happiness bubble up inside of him. He’ll frequently let you sit in his lap while he’s on the throne just so he can see that glimmer in your eye again.

N = Nickel do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?

M’Baku loves spoiling you. You’re his one and only and he believes you only deserve the best. He’ll spoil you with everything you love whether it’s jewels, books, etc. To him, you deserve to be treated like a queen.

O = Orange what colour reminds them of their other half

Silver and black just like the stars and night sky he frequently watches with you.

P = Petnames what pet names do they use?

“Entle” (Beautiful), “Sithandwa sam” (My darling” and “My one true love”.

Q = Quaint what is their favourite non-modern thing?

M’Baku is very fond of the weapons, armour and accessories that belonged to his ancestors. He’s incredibly proud to be their descendant and he loves wearing that pride.

R = Rainy Day what do they like to do on a rainy day?

On a rainy day, M’Baku likes to stay in bed and lay with you. He enjoys relaxing while listening to your soothing voice.

S = Sad how do they cheer themselves/each other up

When M’Baku’s upset, he craves physical contact with you. He’ll find you and pull you into a tight hug and capture your lips with his. He’ll then talk to you about his stresses and ask for advice.

T = Talking what do they love to talk about?

M’Baku loves talking about the history of his tribe. He talks about his family, the future and what things would be like if he became king.

U = Unencumbered What helps them relax?

When M’Baku is feeling overwhelmed or stressed out he likes to go for long walks with you by his side. It gives him more time to show you his kingdom and let you explore it while also helping him feel more at ease. He’ll vent about his problems to you and listen to you talk about your day.

V = Vaunt what do they like to show off? What are they proud of?

M’Baku likes to show off his family and his tribe, along with everything they’d managed to accomplish without the use of vibranium. He also loves to show off to you, his intelligence and his skills. He would love for you to be proud of him

W = Wedding when, how, where do they propose?

It was no secret that M’Baku wanted to marry you, he’d told you many times that he couldn’t wait to be married and to start a family. One day as the two of you laid in bed talking, he felt an overpowering urge to ask you. So, he did. He interrupted you halfway through your sentence to ask you. He knew it wasn’t the most romantic proposal, but he was happy he had finally asked you.

X = Xylophone What’s their song?

Kings by Tribe Society.

Y = You the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

“You are the snow to my mountains,” M’Baku whispered softly as he pressed a kiss to your temple. His strong arms wrapped firmly around your frame that sat comfortably in his lap. The two fo you overlooked the miles of snowy mountains, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment.

Z = Zebra if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?

M’Baku would get a St. Bernard. He loves their appearance and he thinks they’d make a great companion.

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sidon-reader-support · 7 years ago

Note

Oh wow I loved your little AU scenarios - I'm such a sucker for mermaid AU's, they're my absolute fav XD so if u ever felt like writing a ficlet on that at some point, consider this a request!! :D

(I’m sorry this one took so long I just really loved the idea and wanted to do my best on it~ I have such a weakness for mermaids and the whole water aesthetic; to be honest, that’s probably why I adore the Zoras and the Zora Kingdom so much~ Anyways enough of me rambling, please enjoy~~)

The Little Zora

“Oh, this is so exhilarating, it’s almost too amazing to believe; perhaps I am just dreaming, if this is a dream then I truly do not want to wake up-”

A hand clamped over Sidon’s mouth and he was snapped out of his thoughts locking eyes with his older sister as she put a single finger to her own lips reminding him that they could not risk making noise, not if they wanted to complete their task.

The Kingdom’s curfew had already taken affect so the guards would be patrolling every illuminated street and any sound would be their doom. If they were caught the guards would surely bring the siblings to their father and he would know exactly what they were doing out so late sneaking around the Kingdom.

Mipha said none of these words, but the Prince could see them written in her eyes and nodded his head as a silent promise to keep quiet with his own sheepish gaze. His sister nodded in understanding then turned to check around the corner again to make sure that the coast was clear one last time before signaling for her brother to follow her as she quickly darted down the hall.Trying his best to silent his heavier footsteps he followed close behind her still positively bursting with excitement with their target drawing closer and closer with each step. When his sister had first come to his sleeping chambers and told him, “We’re going to the surface,” he nearly didn’t believe her.

Mipha had always agreed with Father; the surface world was too dangerous for any Zora to see let alone visit. Perhaps it was Sidon’s insistent begging, maybe it was the bargaining, or his almost childless pleading to just get one peek at the land above the waters that made his dear sister change her mind. Whatever it was, Sidon was extremely grateful to it and would make sure to thank it when they returned safely after their trip.

Approaching the back entrance of the palace, Mipha’s hands carefully cracked the door open just enough for her to search for any guards passing by. After a moment or two of waiting, his sister finally opened the door and urged Sidon to follow; they had to be quick about this next part.

Now that they were out of the palace they needed to make their way to one of the exit pools that bordered the underwater cavern that was their Domain. To hide their glorious kingdom from the prying eyes of humanity they had built everything inside of a deep underwater cavern that provided them with a large shelter of thick rock with plenty of space to erect their mighty palace and the rest of their civilization. Here, encompassed in ocean rock, they were safe or that’s what his father and several prior Zora Kings had been saying for generations.

Sidon couldn’t believe it no matter how hard he tried.

There just had to be more to it than that.

“Sidon,” Mipha once again brought the younger Zora back to reality and he scanned the area completely forgetting that he couldn’t be letting his mind wonder like this.

Although he didn’t remember walking to it, Sidon could see that they had now reached the outskirts of the town and were now tucked away in a corner where the bright stones that illuminated the streets and gave them their own ethereal glow could not touch them leaving them perfectly concealed from prying eyes.

“Listen closely to me brother, we’re not free yet. There are a few more guards that patrol the outside of the tunnel; I know that you are exceptional swimmer, but I must stress heavily that we need to be very swift or else getting to this point will mean nothing. Do you understand?”

Sidon stared at his sister, his eyes wide in shock at the complete seriousness in her voice and the stern look in her eyes. He knew that this situation was very stressful, especially on his poor sister who was putting all of father’s trust in her on the line just to let him get a glimpse of the surface world – she was practically putting her crown at risk for him. Mipha was so tense that he could see her fists clenching tightly around her silver trident, she could try to hide it all she wanted on the outside but he knew her better than that.

“Sidon, do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.”

With a nod, Mipha let out a deep sigh seeming to push all her nerves out of her system in that single breath. She stepped out from the sheltered corner and then quickly dived into the large pool that served as the exit to their stone barrier, doing her best to stay as silent as possible as she swam down to the bottom waiting for her brother to join her while also making sure there were no Zora guards lurking around inside of the tunnel. After waiting a moment to make sure no guards above the water had heard his sister, Sidon quickly followed in after Mipha diving into the water and then quickly following her when she almost immediately began to swim towards the mouth of the tunnel.

It was a lengthy journey to the exit, following the twisting path of the stone tunnel for quite a while, but eventually they made it and to their luck the guards were just swimming by when they approached. Mipha had to screech to a halt putting her hand out to signal her brother to also stop and wait anxiously as two guards swam by as dutifully as they always did.

There was a brief moment where one of the guards stopped and Sidon felt his heart sink, certain that the man had caught sight of them. But when he continued swimming the prince let out his own sigh and waited for his sister to give him the signal before he dared to move.

After that it was just a steady swim to get as far away from the tunnels as possible then they were finally free to go wherever they wanted. Sidon didn’t waste a single second although he did pause for just a second to hug his sister and thank her about a million times before he started swimming to the surface with Mipha calling after him to slow down. He couldn’t slow down, not when he was already this close to finally achieving his dream.

Years of longing, and hoping, and begging had finally led to the moment where he breached the surface of the water and inhaled the ocean air seeing the surface land in the distance; one quick swim and he would finally be able to see the “vile” humans that lurked on the surface. Before he could even move, there was a hand on his ankle that pulled him down and he submerged himself in the water again to meet his sister’s gaze.

“Brother, you can’t just go swimming off like that, what if there had been a human travelling in one of their boats, they could’ve easily spotted you.” She scolded waving her trident around in a manner that made Sidon frown a little.

“With all due respect my dearest sister, I have been waiting much too long to see the surface. This will possibly be the only chance I’ll ever get to see it, I just want to see everything,” He replied before letting out a gentle sigh and turned away to stare in the direction that he had seen the land, “You really didn’t need to bring that,” He added on referring to her trident.

It was his sister’s turn to sigh and she put a hand on his shoulder circling around him so that she could face him properly and put a hand to his cheek offering him a gentle look. “I just want to keep you safe, my dearest brother. I know that you have waited long and I will not keep you away any longer, just promise me that after tonight when you get up there that you will return to the kingdom with me and will speak no more of the surface world. Promise me this Sidon.”

Sidon smiled solemnly, although he wanted to experience more than a single night could offer he knew that it would be near impossible to come here again, so he nods and gently puts his larger hand on top of his sisters. “I promise Mipha.”

Satisfied with this reply, Mipha finally gave him space and smiled as she gestured for Sidon to take the lead. He returned her smile and then eagerly took off rushing toward the land to finally meet the people who he had been anticipating for an entire century.

He had made that promise to Mipha intending to keep, albeit reluctantly, but everything changed when he saw a figure standing on the sandy beach as he poked his head up from the waters hiding behind the rocky earth protruding from the ocean and creeping up onto the beach forming a sort of border along it.

Now here he was, the Prince of the Zoras, hiding from unknown monsters like a young hatchling and there you were standing alone on the beach staring up at the bright moon that framed you perfectly in a gentle glow and he was instantly enchanted. The sight of you was so foreign to him and yet he felt like he had always known you with how deeply lost he was in the sight of you.

The Zora felt himself gravitating closer to the beach, travelling along the back of the rock formation trying his best to keep his gaze on you afraid that if he looked away all his dreams would vanish into thin air. He didn’t even hesitate when his feet touched the sand and he continued upward the rocks forming a near perfect wall blocking almost his entire height and unfortunately also the sight of you. Sidon moved back to a lower point in the rock wall and gasped seeing you walking away from the beach. You were leaving.

Without thinking words flew out of his mouth. He couldn’t stop himself if he had wanted to. He just couldn’t let you leave so soon, not yet.

“Where are you going?”

You paused in your tracks and turned around and Sidon only had a second to duck down so that you would not see him and be frightened. He waited anxiously hunching over and hoping that you would at least stay a little longer. He was not expecting a response.

“Who’s there?” Your voice called out and he swore it was one of the most beautiful voices he had ever heard before. He had to snap himself out of his little day dream because if he did not say something fast he would likely lose you or you would try to find out for yourself and neither option would be good for him.

“I asked you first,” was all he could manage in his panic and he knew that Mipha would be having her own panic attack if she could see him talking back with a member of their enemies.

However, the sound of your gentle laughter however made him melt in absolute delight, “I was heading home, it’s late anyways so I really should be getting back. Now your turn.”

“I’m… just a stranger passing by.”

“A stranger huh? Well my mom taught me never to talk to strangers.”

Sidon tensed slightly, worried that this meant that you were going to leave him so he blurted out, “My name is Sidon!” A splash brought the prince’s attention to the water where his sister was staring at him standing on the beach horrified that he was out of the safety of the water. She made a gesture with her free hand ushering him to come back but he couldn’t move just yet.

“Sidon?” Oh, he adored how his name fell from your tongue, “That’s an interesting name, is it foreign? You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”

“O-Oh yes, I’m actually… just visiting. I do live rather far from here. Do you live close by?” Sidon asked curiously. His body relaxed against the rock wall now that he was sure you would not vanish.

“Asking a girl where she lives? You sure do move fast stranger.” You laughed and this time he couldn’t help but laugh along with you.

“But I am not a stranger, you know my name now do you not? The only thing keeping us strangers is your name, my dear.” He said hearing Mipha quietly calling out to him, urging him to get back in the water. Sidon had to hold up a finger to her, he just needed one more second; he needed to know your name or it would haunt him for all eternity.

You let out another stunning laugh and he could hear a splash in the water that informed him his time was short. Mipha was coming to get him, before he would get to know your name, before he would get to know you; this amazing human that he had only seen from a distance and spoken to with a barrier dividing the two of you. He couldn’t leave now.

“…It’s (Y/n).” You said in a slightly hesitant matter but Sidon did not pick up on it. All he heard was your name followed by the sound of his sister emerging from the water.

“That is a splendid and amazing name, truly it suits you perfec-!” Mipha grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him abruptly away from the wall of earth.

“We’re leaving,” She said in a stern tone that meant business.

Sidon whispered back, reluctant to leave after he had only just started getting to know you, “Can’t I just have one more minute?” He received only a scolding glare in response.

“Is everything okay over there Sidon?” Your voice piped up sounding slightly concerned and he hesitated to follow his sister not wanting to make you worry about him. Mipha looked at him even more appalled when you addressed him by his name and became even more persistent in tugging him with her free hand.

“Yes, yes everything is fine. Though I think I must also be taking my leave now,” He replied trying to sound casual as he pulled against his sister’s strength clinging slightly to the wall.

“Oh. Um, okay. Maybe I’ll see you around some other time then? I actually do live pretty close so I’ll most likely be here if you want to talk some more.” Sidon’s heart pounded in his chest hearing that you wanted to see him again.

“I would love that, perhaps I will see you tomorrow?” He asked his tail wagging with pure joy coursing through his veins.

“Sure, good night stranger.”

“Good night (Y/n).” He finally let go and stopped resisting his sister following her into the water while keeping his eyes strained on the wall getting a brief glimpse at you over the shrinking wall of rock before diving into the ocean to return to his home.

He knew that he would be in deep trouble and already he could hear Mipha scolding him for getting so close to a Hylian but every other word that came out of her mouth was lost to him.

All that the Zora could think about was how he would come see you again.

#don't worry i'm still alive #ficlet #Sidon ficlet #The Little Zora #sidon #prince sidon #mipha #princess mipha #botw #breath of the wild

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eorumverba · 7 years ago

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Okay but what if Jinki was dating Jonghyun AND Taemin but neither knew about each other and then jongtae meet and instead of getting mad at Jinki they just fall in love with each other and both break up with Jinki. Idk if that can work as a prompt or not lol. Maybe that's a crack prompt? (-@shawolparadox)

okay i changed things around a little so theres no cheating nd theres poly instead jhgjhhgf hope u dont mind

Jinki’s mouth opens, then closes. He shrugs, thinks about it, shrugs again: Jonghyun is incredibly attractive, and he’d have blind to have missed that. So he picks up his phone and fires off a text to Taemin, asking if Taemin would mind if he went home with someone else. It takes a few moments, but all Taemin sends back is three eggplant emojis and a simple ‘condom?’, to which Jinki quickly agrees.

The first thing Jinki says when Jonghyun starts the heavy flirting (Jonghyun’s always been a flirt with everyone he’s close to, but it’s always playful, never this overtly sexual unless he means it) with him is, “You know I have a boyfriend, right?”

Jonghyun just blinks, shakes his head like did I ask? and says, “I know, and you’re in an open relationship, you told me. Besides, all I want is sex. If that’s okay with you, and him.”

“I’m guessing that’s a yes?” Jonghyun asks then, and when Jinki looks back up at him, he’s got his lips pursed around the straw of his milkshake. It’s vanilla, and Jonghyun is so-not-subtle when he licks his lips free of the white liquid, eyes boring into Jinki’s all the while. But then, nothing’s ever subtle with Jonghyun.

“It’s a yes. Your place, if that’s fine.” Now that Jinki’s allowed to really look, he lets his gaze linger on Jonghyun’s lips, red and plush and full.

“Perfect.”

Jonghyun’s on his hands and knees for Jinki sometime in that hour, and even though he says he’s not tired, he quickly curls up into Jinki and falls right asleep, puffing out quiet breaths into Jinki’s neck.

It’s different from the way Taemin takes up half the bed, the way Jinki sleeps with his nose pressing into Taemin’s hair or neck, but it’s nice. And when Jinki wakes, Jonghyun is already in the kitchen, happily munching on a breakfast sandwich. There’s a bag on the counter and he points to it, saying in between bites that there’s two, one for him and another for his boyfriend.

(Jinki doesn’t bother texting Taemin to tell him: whenever Taemin has the house to himself, he ends up spending the whole night up playing some dumb shooting game with his friends online, and he’s likely still asleep.)

Jonghyun is quick to slip from his chair - from what Jinki can see, he’s only wearing a giant shirt that swamps his slim frame and his pants are crumpled up on the couch - and he steps up on his toes to press a gentle kiss to Jinki’s lips with the promise of, “Let’s do this again sometime?” before seeing Jinki out.

And…it’s nice.

As predicted, when Jinki gets home, Taemin is passed out on the couch, headphones still on and controller on the floor. He starts awake though when Jinki shuts the door behind him and smiles sleepily up at him, slipping his headphones off and getting up to kiss Jinki good morning. “How was it?”

“He’s cute, I think you’d like him. He bought us breakfast too.”

“I like him already!” Taemin takes the bag and flops back down on the couch, rifling through it and coming out with two breakfast sandwiches. “Want bacon or sausage?”

Jinki shrugs. “Whichever you don’t want.”

Taemin has bacon, and Jinki has sausage, and then it’s to the bathroom; Taemin ends up pressed to the shower wall with his back flush to Jinki’s chest, and he comes down with Jinki’s name on his lips, Jinki’s hand on his cock, and Jinki’s cock pressed hard between them.

And later, they lie in bed together with Taemin’s laptop between them and playing some spy show that Jinki doesn’t care for but that Taemin loves, but then in the middle of a shootout that Jinki isn’t paying much attention to, Taemin pauses it.

“What was he like?”

And oh, this again. “Taeminnie, you don’t-”

“I’m not jealous, Jinki. I know you love me, just…” Taemin curls in on himself a little, but when he looks up at Jinki, his gaze is sure. “I just like making sure that you love me most. That you won’t just…leave me.”

Jinki nods like he understands, wraps his arm tighter around Taemin and finds his hand to hold it tight. “We’ve known each other for a while, from work. Jonghyun is…he’s a hard worker, when he’s not daydreaming. He likes to write, stories and poems and lyrics, and he’s a huge romantic. Soft, sweet, gentle. He’s a huge flirt with everyone he’s close to, and he only wanted sex, which is…kind of unsurprising.”

“He sounds nice.”

“Nice, yes. But not really my type. He’s like…your Jongin.”

Taemin, after a moment, nods. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to, because they’ve been together long enough to read each other’s bodies, and the way Taemin relaxes shows how relieved he is.

“Tae, if you’re worried about-”

“I’m not. I don’t want to…to….” Taemin sits up and he looks frustrated now, one hand flapping in small circles almost absently. Jinki is quick to sit up as well, taking Taemin’s still hand in his and kissing the palm.

“Take your time, Tae. I’m listening.”

Taemin relaxes again and the circles of his hand speed up and then stop as he says, “I don’t want to control you. Make you stay with me or-”

“You’re not. I want you happy as much, if not more, than I want to be happy. There is no one that can take your place, Taemin. Hear me?”

Taemin nods, turns to Jinki and kisses just the corner of his mouth. “Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too, Taeminnie.”

“Oh,” Taemin mumbles, “going out with Jongin, Sehun and Baekhyun later. They want to go to some bar or club or something.”

“Okay, love. Stay safe?”

Taemin nods into Jinki’s shoulder and Jinki brings his hand up to run it through Taemin’s hair. “Don’t think I’m going home with anyone, unless it’s Baek. You know how he is.”

Jinki snorts, kisses the top of Taemin’s head idly. “I’m sure you’ll have fun tonight.”

(The last time they’d all gone out for drinks, Baekhyun ended up drinking himself silly, until he could barely stand and had to lean on Jinki and Sehun, and he’d ended up nearly puking in the cab ride home and then actually puking once they got him home.)

“Nap with me?” Taemin asks. And how could Jinki refuse him anything?

When Jinki wakes, Taemin is struggling into those tight leather pants that Jongin had bought him months ago, and he starts when Jinki touches his hip. “Sleep well?”

“Very. You look gorgeous.” Taemin’s hair is pushed back from his face and Jinki lets his fingertips brush against the shaved sides before pulling Taemin into a lingering kiss.

“Don’t I always?”

“Mm, yeah. I almost don’t want to let you go.”

Taemin’s breath catches and he sways forward, eyes on Jinki’s lips, but he seems to catch himself, because he’s quick to pull away, and he floats over to the dresser to put on three silver bands. Three, his lucky number.

“I thought you weren’t planning on going home with anyone?”

Taemin looks at Jinki through the mirror, smiles bright and sunny. “Sehun said he’d take care of Baek.”

“And that leaves you and Jongin to…” Jinki waves a hand, knowing that Taemin knows what he means.

“I hope we find someone with a big dick.” Taemin says then, and with the way he’s smiling, Jinki knows it’s only to get a rise out of him.

“I doubt your little wingman would want to share.”

“More for me then.”

“Sure you don’t want to stay? I could get you in my lap, have you all spread out for me and make you watch how easy you open up for me. You’d look so pretty.”

The smile on Taemin’s lips falters and slips, but before Jinki can continue, the bell rings and now Taemin’s smile is back in place. “Gotta go, Jinki. See you tomorrow! Maybe you can call Jonghyun to do all that stuff with.”

Tease. And as Taemin floats out the door, Jinki thinks that maybe he should.

Jonghyun is over within the hour, and they’re naked and on each other just minutes after that.

All Taemin does when he gets home early the next morning to find Jonghyun watching tv on the couch and Jinki lying half-asleep next to him is smile and say, “You must be Jonghyun?”

Jonghyun nods and springs to his feet, and he extends his hand out to Taemin; he’s quickly pulled into a warm hug and when Taemin lets him go, Jonghyun is blushing? Jinki snorts and Taemin whirls on him, suddenly frowning. “I hope you offered him food? Did he?”

Jonghyun shakes his head (the traitor) and Taemin immediately looks to Jinki, brows raised. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to, because Jinki sighs and goes to make breakfast for the three of them.

When he gets back to the living room, he finds Jonghyun and Taemin sitting close together, whispering and laughing together, and it’s so…nice that Jinki just stands in the doorway and watches them until Taemin catches his gaze and smiles, soft and gentle. It should be awkward, eating together, but it’s not, and the kitchen feels so much more alive with all three of them there.

But Jonghyun leaves soon after that, saying that he has to go home and feed his dog, and god. Taemin’s eyes light up, and as soon as he changes clothes, they’re out the door; Taemin texts him to say that Jonghyun is positively perfect, and Jinki is seriously going to have to step his game up.

When they come back, hours later, they bring a tiny dog, and it’s with wide eyes and pouty lips that Taemin and Jonghyun ask if she can stay over too. All Jinki does is sigh and ask, “Is she house trained? Because I won’t be the one cleaning it up.”

And Jonghyun is clearly overjoyed, because he stretches up and kisses Jinki, quick and chaste and then he realizes what he’s just done because he shrinks back, shy and quiet and soft.

“Do you always kiss people when you’re happy?” Taemin sounds amused and when Jonghyun turns to him, he’s smiling, and then he places his hands on Jonghyun’s cheeks and kisses him too, soft and lingering.

Taemin always has gotten crushes quickly, Jinki thinks. And Jonghyun must be getting one too, because instead of flirting or kissing Taemin back, all he does is blush again and mumble into his dog’s fur that she needs to go out now.

When he peeps up at Jinki and Taemin from behind her fur, Jinki’s heart stutters in his chest, and he thinks that maybe…this can work.

(It takes about two months of spending all their time together, four at-home movie dates, one extremely heated makeout between the three of them, dozens of dates, and Jinki clearing out part of the closet and putting Jonghyun’s toothbrush in the bathroom with his and Taemin’s for them to finally sit down and decide that they’re all dating.)

#shinee #jongtae #jongyu #ontae #onjongtae #tag urself im jongs accidental kiss lmao #requests #shawolparadox #i hjkhjg hope u dont mind the changes........#anyw not included was taem gushing about jong and how cute he is #nd jinki just grinning at him like u have a crush dont u #nd taem >:V no i dont. but he does #nd jong trying to flirt with jinki but jinki flirts back nd jong immedaitely just jkhhjg gets all flustered nd blushy #the three of them going on dates nd ontae ganging up on jinki with Everything #a good time...........#my writing #i made this doc at 4:49pm nd finishd at 7:29 that is a Record #ot3

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