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#the way they talk to each other and care for each other and naturally click
raaorqtpbpdy · 7 months
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Okay I’m thriving on all the Marie/Jordan posting, it is absolutely deserved, they’re amazing together, but I wish there was a little more love for Emma/Sam too because “I don’t remember you, but I do believe you” fucking broke me.
Imagine you’ve spent years questioning reality, surrounded by people who constantly remind you that you can’t believe your own eyes. You finally meet someone outside of that group and you’re convinced she’s a hallucination, except she passes your test, and she’s sweet, and she laughs at your jokes even though you have a really off-beat sense of humor, and she matches it, and you love her like you’ve never loved anyone. And she promises to stay with you after everyone else you’ve ever loved has abandoned you, whether intentionally or not. And then you start to freak out and you know your scaring her, because she’s seen you rip people apart with your bare hands, but she’s not running. She’s not even trying to make you calm down or be rational or stop. Instead she asks “How can I help you?” She wants to help you. And you run. And she saves you. She stops you from doing something you’ll regret. She’s the first one who’s done that without violating your mind.
And then she loses all her memories of you. She looks at you without an ounce of recognition, and you think you’ve lost her, even if you swear to get her her memories back. And you’re alone again, and you’re hallucinating. You’re hallucinating her. You can’t trust reality. You can’t trust yourself. You can’t believe what you see or hear or touch. Then she comes back again, but this time she’s real and you ask if she remembers you and she says no. “I don’t remember you, but I do believe you.”
I can’t even, okay, I’m losing my mind over here.
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studioghibelli · 4 months
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burnt- a joel miller x reader
summary: life is sweet, but your big, tough, roughed up husband is sweeter. just for you…. only ever you. domestic life is full of happiness, bliss and….. kinky sex?
warnings: daddy kink (sorry not sorry), no outbreak!au, big fat girthy age gap (20s/late 40s), smut (finger sucking, thigh riding, light choking, f receiving oral, creampie, pinkus in vageenja sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink.) no use of y/n.
note: this hasn’t been proofread, so sorry for any grammar errors. xx
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You couldn’t remember when it happened.
When the sleepless nights tangled up in his arms, where neither of you quite knew where the other would end or begin, bled into the quiet mornings spent tangled in the other’s arms. When breathy moans evolved into deep conversations about the afterlife and family values. You couldn’t remember when Joel went from the wild, rugged cowboy you rode for hours on end, to the supportive husband who protected you, made coffee for you, mowed the lawn and took care of you.
It happened quietly. Naturally. Perfectly.
No more were the nights of stumbling around drunk, fooling around behind your friends’ backs, leaving the labels far away and out of sight.
Oh, no. Not anymore.
The silver band engraved with flowers, a pretty, shimmering gemstone sitting on top, reminded you every day of that.
Now, Joel still had that wild streak in him, that dark tint to his eyes. He still let you know he could, and would, fuck you in to high Heaven, show you just how good of a girl you are. But the sweet, simple domesticity of dancing in the kitchen, grilling for friends, watching the news and shaking your head together- that was all new.
Autumn was dawning over the sticky heat of Texas, the air cooling off ever so slightly, days shortening toward cool, navy nights. Your front porch in the mornings, as the sun rose up, offered you solace away from the sappy humidity, that seemed to cling against your skin like tar.
So, each morning before the world would awake, you would sit on the rocking chair that your doting Joel made just for you, and you would drink your coffee, your tea, your chocolate milk- whatever you were in the mood for during that particular moment- and you would watch your front lawn come alive with bursting rays of light.
Occasionally, on a particularly quiet day, you would see a wild bunny hop through your yard, or a sweet black cat drag its side against the white picket fence of the house across the road.
You relished in these little interactions with nature. You craved them.
And when they were done, before the clock even had the chance to click past 8AM, you would climb back in to bed with your bear of a husband, wrap your arms around his back (which had inevitably turned away from your side through the night), and fall back into a peaceful snooze for the next hour or so, until the blaring alarm on Joel’s phone would begin ringing.
And then, he would awake.
Joel would turn to you, with a goofy, love sick grin on his face, and gently kiss your nose, pulling you flush against his warm, sleepy chest. His deep breaths would vibrate against you, his hands inevitably finding their way to the band of your panties or hem of your shirt, and you would spend the first half hour of your morning feeling his cock inside of you, or his fingers in your mouth, or his tongue against your clit.
Being married….. well now, that was a treat. One you would never get tired of devouring.
The clock had slowly been ticking towards 6 P.M.
Husband Joel would be walking in through those doors at any moment now, and you were still struggling through the recipe, the book propped up on the counter, the shiny pages now tarnished with the smears of paprika, melted butter- anything you had touched in the kitchen, really.
The house was alive with the smell of cooking chicken and boiling pasta. You had tried, and failed, to make garlic bread from scratch. You enjoyed cooking, but Joel never expected it, and what was what you loved.
He never treated you like his slave, or his subservient house wife. You were equals, partners. If whatever dinner you were cooking failed, he had no problem ordering chinese, or making you breakfast for dinner, fluffy pancakes and all.
The thought made your stomach grumble.
You figured today was a beautiful September day, and your husband was a wonderful husband, and he deserved some delicious fucking pasta when he walked through the front door.
When he walked through the front door…..
Sweaty from an honest days work, those curls slicked to his forehead, arms bulging beneath the tight sleeves of whatever old shirt he chose from his closet, worn and faded from the hand of the sun.
Oh, when he walked through that door….
Your knees were already growing weak.
You clutched the edge of the counter, nails gently digging in to the wood. You focused your eyes on the boiling pasta water, your mind wandering with thoughts of Joel. Always of Joel.
His hand had wrapped itself around your neck, belly pressed against the cool counter of the kitchen. The feeling of his fingers gently pressing in to your skin sent shock waves of pleasure rippling throughout, straight to your pussy. He hadn’t even touched you anywhere south of your tits.
Joel was kissing you like a starved man, his hot lips searing your skin, like a poker branding your skin with the mark of his love. His undying, unwavering, steadfast love.
“Joel,” you whimpered, “I need you. I need you to touch me.”
“Touch you where, babydoll? Here?” He asked, his fingers gently tweaking your left nipple. You shook your head no, stifling a moan. “Oh. Hmm. How about here?” He gently brushed his fingers against your belly, tickling your skin until a soft laugh erupted. You shook your head again. “I think I know where.”
Joel used his knee to spread open your legs, pressing you down flat into the counter, your cheeks now resting against the cold surface. His rough palms lay flat against your skin as he dragged them down to your ass, spreading them open as the searing heat of shyness spread through your chest.
“Let me see.” Joel pondered a faux thought, before a smirk overtook his face and he dipped his fingers into the soaked entrance of your cunt, knuckle deep as his body pressed against your back. You felt the outline of his hardening cock jutting through his tight boxers, a shiver running down your spine. “Here. Right?”
“Y-Yes!” You squealed, your nails digging into the wooden countertops. You felt it flaking beneath your grasp, and you knew an indent would be left. Oh well, you thought.
“That’s what I thought-”
Your deep, emphasis on the deep, thought was cut short by someone grabbing you quickly, showering your neck in familiar kisses.
“Joel!” You gasped, jumping as his hands made contact with you. You burst into a fit of laughter, his stubble tickling your jaw line as he spun you towards him.
And there he was. Just as you suspected.
His graying curls were soaked with sweat, framing the sides of his face ever so slightly, and a love sick, honey sweet grin reserved just for you was atop his perfect lips. The sun had almost set, and the amber light flooding in through the transparent curtains had shrouded his figure in a burst of light.
“Evenin’ my-” Joel paused, nose lifting into the air. “Somethin’s burnin-” The fire alarm cut him off, just in time.
“God dammit!” You turned around to see your chicken black as charcoal, smoke fanning from the pan. You were so lost in thought, you completely ignored the food. “Fuck!”
Joel had undone the fire alarm atop the ceiling quicker than you had fanned the smoke away, opening all the windows with a groan. You fell on the couch, dejected and annoyed, holding a crocheted pillow to your chest in a moment of well-deserved self pity. Joel turned to look at you, amusement behind his eyes.
“I was trying to make you a nice dinner!” You explained with a dramatic fling of your arms.
“Mhm… and what happened?” There was a sense of charming fun poking at his words.
“I was…. I was just, uh, I was thinking about some things.”
Joel was getting closer to you, his steps slow. “I’m sure. You are quite the thinker, sweet girl. What was it that was so important, you completely forgot about everything else?”
“Taxes!” You blurted out before you could even stop yourself.
He couldn’t help but laugh, sitting down beside you. His hand gently rubbed your stomach, down to your thighs, your body like jello beneath his touch. Joel’s face was close to yours now, his nose brushing against your cheek ever so slightly. “‘S that so?”
“Y-Uh…. mhm.”
“Now I trust you’d never lie to me.” His breath was hot on your face, and you shivered as his hands ran up and down your torso, paying extra attention to the hem of your sports bra.
“I wasn’t thinking about taxes.” You admitted, guilt evident on your face.
“There’s the truth. Now that’s daddy’s good girl. C’mere.” He patted his lap and you willingly obliged, straddling his thigh as Joel wrapped his strong arms around you, fingers finding the hem of your shirt and pressing against the small of your exposed back. “Now,” he brushed a stray piece of hair away, “what was it you were thinkin’ about?”
“You.”
“Me? Well darlin’, I am flattered. What about me?” His voice was low, right against your ear.
You ignored his question, tilting your neck instinctively as his lips found their way to your skin. You whimpered quietly the first time he kissed you, right beneath your ear, squirming against his denim clad thigh, thick and tantalizing beneath you.
Joel found the waistband of your leggings, slipping his fingers down your panties, into the sticky hot mess that had made itself home in your underwear. His index finger traced your folds, your cunt aching beneath his touch.
Right now, the world was him, and he was you, and your movements were one. Nothing else was as important to you as Joel Miller making you orgasm, over and over and over.
“Oh.” Joel tutted, removing his hand, ignoring the protests that escaped you. “I know what you were thinking about.” There was a charmingly sardonic pull to each of his syllables.
“Do you?”
“Mhm. You were thinking about me fuckin’ that tight little pussy. Weren’t you?”
A sharp breath caught in the back of your throat. You felt that coil, sharp and deep within you, just waiting to be cut, waiting to be relieved.
Even after all this time, Joel still sent shivers down your spine. He still made your knees weak, still made your heart flutter.
You remember people telling you he was too old for you, that he was going to slow you down. That, one day, the honeymoon phase would wear off, that one day it would feel like you had settled for an old man who you’d have to end up taking care of- that was many moons ago…
They couldn’t have been more wrong.
You looked into the eyes of Joel, his orbs darkening as he caught sight of you. He removed his fingers from the waistband of your pants, slowly moving them up towards your mouth, lips thick and glossy with desire.
“Suck.” He commanded.
You obeyed, gently grabbing his wrist with both your hands, inching his ring and middle finger slowly into your mouth. You made a spectacle, put on a show just for him, as you began swirling your tongue around the tips of his digits, giggling quietly as he hummed out in satisfaction. With his free hand, Joel gently grabbed the side of your head, his fingers running through your hair.
“Good girl. That’s my fuckin’ girl.”
You grounded yourself against his thigh, humming softly as he moved his hands to your waist, his grip tight, secure, protective.
“That’s right, grind that little pussy on my thigh. Give me a show, girl.”
You smiled at him, that charming, dazzling smile that made Joel’s heart pound, and slowly took your shirt off, your red bra on full display in front of him. Joel grabbed your tits, kneading them in his rough palms, calloused fingers gently pinching and twisting your nipples, the friction making you moan out.
“Been thinkin’ bout these all day.” Joel murmured, leaning forward and burying his face in the valley between each of your breasts. He groaned into your soft skin, licking a thick, hot strip up your neck as you moved against him. Your clit, swelling and screaming beneath the fabric of your underwear, dragged circles against his jeans as his bare hands grasped the curves of your hips, helping you move and sway against him.
“Joel.” You whispered, begging.
“What, honey? Use your words.”
“Fuck me.”
“‘S that what my pretty girl wants?”
“More than anything.”
Joel pushed you beneath him on the couch, the leather cool and comforting against your bare back. He looked at you, devouring you with his eyes. He was drunk on you now, orbs blown black like charcoal, lips tightened in a carnivorous snarl.
He was hungry.
“God damn, girl. Never gonna get tired of this view.” He moaned out your name as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your belly before taking your pants off, his thumb dragging across the soaked strip imprinted into your panties. Joel leaned forward, following the line his thumb made with his tongue, his ears perking at the sound of your moans.
Joel thumbed the skimpy fabric down your legs, his palms rubbing against your smooth skin, before he propped your legs on his shoulders, face to face with your throbbing, soaked pussy.
His index traced over your fold, watching as it became coated with your wetness.
“All for me?” He hummed out, the pad of his digit now grazing over your clit. It thrummed against his skin, your pussy clenching wantonly against nothing. “Guess I should do somethin’ about this, shouldn’t I? Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to leave my lady hanging like this. All wet and ready for her daddy.”
You whimpered, lips pressed in a tight line, as you watched your husbands every move.
Joel leaned forward, his tongue flat against your clit, looking up into your eyes. He left his tongue there, no hint or movement, as the corner of his mouth tilted up in a smirk.
“Please.” Your voice was pathetic, a quiet, distant plea.
“Ohh.” He chuckled between his syllables. “You want me to lick you? Want me to suck on this pretty clit if yours?”
“Please!” You repeated, practically a shout.
Joel chuckled, a deep, throaty, gorgeous chuckle, before wrapping his lips around your clit. His hit tongue swirled slowly around it, your pussy throbbing against his face. He moaned against you, hands grasping ahold of your thighs as he kept your legs apart, his mouth focusing on your pussy.
“Oh, Joel. Oh!” You ran your fingers through his graying hair, curls falling in his forehead as you held him there.
He pulled away, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he spread your lips open, exposing your cunt to his eyes. Joel ran a tongue over his lower lip, pushing into your tight hole with two of his digits, knuckle deep as he watched you squirm and moan for him. Your nails dug into the leather couch, marks you knew would inevitably be left there. You didn’t care right now. How could you? Joel had set you on fire, every nerve panting his name like a chant. No thoughts of the world, of taxes, of burnt dinner- only of him.
Your back arched against the couch as he ducked you with his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles around your button as he kissed his way up your belly and to your chest, stopping to pay extra care to your tight, stiff nipples. You watched as he sucked them, his every move burning in to your brain, before he came face to face with you.
The curve of his nose pressed into your own, the scruff of his cheeks burning against your face as he pressed his mouth onto yours, a deep, passionate kiss engulfing the both of you. He continued thrusting your fingers deep inside your pussy, yet your hands travelled lower, undoing the buckle of his belt, the zipper of his jeans, until all that separated his thick, throbbing cock from your pussy was the right black material of his briefs.
A shaky breath escaped you as he pulled his hand away, slowly moving it to your throat. Joel was careful not to apply any pressure, instead focusing his grip on the sides, a devilish smirk glimmering down at you.
“Use your words, baby. What do you want from me?”
“Cock. Please. Fuck me.” You were begging now, hips squirming into him.
Joel pulled away momentarily and you watched as his long fingers pushed down his underwear, a thick, veiny, angry cock falling out, slapping against your thigh with a quiet noise. He wrapped his fist around his dick, slowly pumping it with one hand as he held you in place by your neck with the other.
“I could just hold you here, ‘til I cum all over your belly.”
You groaned out in protest, dejected.
“Not want you want? Hmm. Oh. You want me to fuck you, don’t you? Want me to fill you up with my cum, ‘till it’s dripping out of you? Yeah, that’s what you want. I see it in your eyes, girl. You want me to pump you full of cum, fill this cunt right up.”
“Y-yeah.”
He shook his head no. “Mhm.” He warned, tapping the head of his cock against your clit. “Words.”
“Yes please.” You corrected yourself, watching as his handsome face became plastered with a smile.
“That’s more like it. See? Manners maketh man.” He teased, his cock now resting right at your entrance. He moved his hand from your throat, both his arms now at the side of your face, before filling you up with one swift push of his hips.
You were full to the hilt, the tip of his leaking dick pressing against your cervix, a jolt of pain, pleasurable and electrifying, rushing through you. Joel pulled away slowly, watching as the folds of your pussy spread again his shaft, a dirty and sexy sight just for him. He groaned, lip caught between his teeth as he started fucking you proper.
“So tight. So fuckin’ tight. You’re such a dream, darlin’. Such a fuckin’ pretty girl for me.”
Joel reached down, thumbing your clit. He watched the way your back curved off the couch, the way your baby hairs stuck to your forehead, the way your lips parted, singing their sinful song of lust- oh, Joel could’ve cum just from looking at you.
“Wanna cum.” You gasped for air, his fingers dancing against your button as he pounded in to you, hips on hips cracking like whips, sweat forming between your bodies, glueing you together like puzzle pieces.
“I’ll make you cum, honey. Don’t you worry.”
His cock was thrusting deeper and deeper, his tip hitting against that spot that made you shudder. Your shoulders rocked forward as you threw your arms around him, bringing him closer to you. You kissed him again, hungry and wanting, fingers knotting into his hair as you felt your belly clenching. Your cunt wept against his cock, and you felt your orgasm brewing.
“Gonna cum.” You whispered. “Gonna cum on you. Gonna- gonna-“ Your orgasm washed over you, hips thrusting into him as you came.
“Thatta girl. Good girl.” He cooed, his hand rubbing your belly gently. “Look at me.”
You looked at Joel, face slack with tiredness, your orgasm wiping the energy out of you. Nonetheless you held him tightly, legs tight around his waist, his movements now sloppy and wanting as he drove in to you.
When your eyes met, Joel’s face softened, the hint of a smile on his mouth. “So pretty.” He whispered, gently holding your throat again. “I love you, you know that?”
You nodded, rubbing your nose against his. “I know. And I love you.” You whispered, promising, smiling against his mouth as he kissed you once more.
“I’m gonna cum.” Joel snarled into your mouth as his cock twitched, spurts of hot cum painting the inside of your pussy, his body tensing as he held you close and tight, groaning your name into your hair. “Oh, fuck.”
You sighed into his chest as he fell into you, rough hands massaging the softness of your sides as Joel drew you in closer.
You laid against him, packed tight like sardines on the couch, before he looked down at you, eyes glimmering with a sparkle of amusement.
“So.” He began.
“So?” You giggled.
“What’re we gonna do about dinner?”
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satoruhour · 5 months
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LESSON NO. 1
a/n: bassist!geto teaching you how to play the guitar. loosely based off this but not really connected. as requested by @alcospray 💟 i dont play bass so i just watched a whole bunch of videos for just one song - any bass players wanna correct me feel free to do so ;"). only if u look like geto tho /j. they havent say the three words to each other yet, read it with that in mind :3
wc: 2.1k
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“any update from your fan?” gojo nudges him playfully as they wait for the principle of the university to introduce their band for the freshmen orientation, which, weirdly, something that the four of them never thought would happen. they sang about topics that wouldn’t normally get talked about or were shunned — politics, capitalism, authoritarianism — and yet being introduced by the principle of their place of education was quite ironic.
the bassist doesn’t hear gojo at all, not even when his best friend tries to tease him by calling you his fan. there were too many things in geto’s mind way even before this whole performance: his finals, a rival band that sought out to create false rumours about them, you.
always, you, the unexpected distracting thing that infiltrates his mind without fail. from the first night you trodded over to his dorms, opening up to him and letting him take care of you, to the many dates after. he’s taken you to cafés, watched you study way too many times, or simply let you sit through one of his song formation days.
a conscious effort to keep his distance and everything is just you, you, you, and geto is terrified. he’s never liked the kind of love with strings attached, with those mushy, complicated feelings, but no one-night stand, no quick fuck has ever made him feel the way you do.
but lately, he’s seen less of you, unwillingly accepting the principle’s offer to perform for the freshmen because he knew you were one of the group leaders ushering in the new students. at least he could try to search for you in the crowds, even getting a cheeky little text about where your group was meant to sit a week ago. he could be granted at least that when you both have been working so hard for final exams that you two could hardly see each other.
although, throughout their whole set, he sees everyone but you. he loses the bass line often, looks lost on the stage, needs to be cued in, something that never happens to the geto suguru. he’s always been a natural, and yet when it comes to you, you ruin him in the best way possible.
“hey— hey! man, what was that?” gojo slaps him on the back but it doesn’t even register in geto’s head, not really bothered by how he messed up the performance if it wasn’t for gojo’s vocals and shoko adding in her own improvisations for her parts. nanami can only shrug as he comes around to geto’s front.
“she wasn’t there, i looked, too,” nanami mumbled, tapping his drumsticks on his shoulder, “but you’re the most passionate guy i know who loves his guitars and bass lines.”
gojo has to chime in, “he’s the only bass guitarist you know, nanamiii!” and shoko pulls him back with a smack to the back of his head.
the dark-haired guy only clicks his tongue, “sorry ’bout him.”
nanami waves his drumsticks before pointing them at his face, “i know you’re obsessed with her, but i don’t wanna be a drummer if i can’t work with my bassist. sort this out before our next gig. she’s a sweet girl . . just, not when it’s at the expense of the band.”
geto only sighs in relief, landing a hand on his drummer’s shoulder.
“thank you, nanami.” the two exchange smiles before he gives a salute to his other two friends (“do you think he finally loves someone enough for him to be distracted on stage?” shoko says, and gojo gasps dramatically), heading out from the wings and down the stairs at the front of the stage where people look confused at the recent performer looking high and low for where your group was meant to be seated.
he sees not you, but rather your group leader mates who he’s at least seen pictures of, so he has no qualms about heading over to ask about your whereabouts — “the last thing she told our head group leader was that she was down with a nasty flu . . terrible fever and all. our main group leader went to her dorms to check on her and she’s unfit for doing orientations activities. we just sent her loads of soup packets and pei pa koa’s.”
geto laughs at the last part, knowing your need for sweet things. when it’s combined with a soothing coating for your throat, it’s pretty much the only thing you take when you’re sick. with a quick thanks, geto races for the campus bus straight to your dorm, the bass carried on his back rattling with his capo, chord sheets and mute nosily.
at least your annoying roommate’s gone home before school starts so it’s only you when geto knocks on the door. his knuckles rap against the wood, heart breaking when he hears your hoarse voice answer from the other side. soon, he can hear your feet moving towards the door, but it takes a while from how your body is, knocking over some things in the process.
“c-coming!” you groan out, wrapped in layers of clothing and feeling so hot you feel like you were in hell. but you aren’t expecting the sight when you open the door: your boyfriend panting, the guitar case behind him only telling you he’s come straight from the freshmen gig, the expression on his face.
“s-su!” you exclaim, both excitedly and a little worried because you didn’t want to get him sick, something you regret immediately when you go to clutch your throat.
“oh, baby,” geto brushes the hoodie off your head and brushes away the mess of your hair, “you look so pale, i— i would’ve come sooner if i knew—!”
“that’s why i didn’t tell you,” you pout, pushing away his hand gently and stepping back. it hurts to speak, but you feel like you at least need to explain your absence to him, “i was afraid you’d ditch the performance. also— don’t want you to get sick.”
suguru’s expression softens, “don’t worry about me, doll. come,” he takes one more step towards you and you feel so safe with him you don’t take a step away, “let me take care of you.”
the next hours are full of geto, a revered bassist in an upcoming band who dons long hair, piercings and has a menacing dragon down his arm alongside some boots, taking care of you. he runs back and forth between the pantry to make sure you have enough hot water, boiling hot soup to drink, enough layers to keep you warm and even calling gojo to get some tylenol from the supermarket.
“take a breather, sugu, i’m not gonna die,” you laugh slightly with a rasp to your voice, squeezing his hand as you rest against his shoulder. he’s made sure you at least have something in your stomach and enough hot water to power a hot spring, worry showing through his heartbeat when the hand he holds is still so warm.
“you’re heating up loads, baby,” geto frowns, turning his head to plant a kiss on the top of your head. he rolls his eyes when he hears it’s because you’re here. “do you want me to put cool towels on your head?”
you giggle again and cough, sniffling the mucus back up your nose, “no, it’s okay — you’d have to go to the pantry again to get water and i just want . . you here.”
suguru only hums, something akin to a melody that you don’t quite know but you’re happy to listen to his gruff voice anyway. the way he vibrates as he hums sends a calming feeling right to your body, and how he looks and feels so different from the very first time you were alone together.
he seemed so cool, passing the blunt to you and blowing his smoke into your mouth, kissing you like you’re just another girl in his roster; but right now, you were far from it.
now, not only is he still cool, but he’s also the most caring person you know and is something so far from his appearance and band: this is just one in many instances of how much he takes care of you. from the same fingers that strum upon the stainless steel, they travel miles over your body, your face like the first songs he learned on the guitar, weaving a melody and language so intricate only the two of you speak it.
silently, you feel him push you forward while he slots his legs on the other side of your body, letting you naturally rest with your back to his chest. “wanna learn?”
“i am in the most terrible state, suguru,” you whisper, reaching over to take a tissue. there, you blow your nose and clear out your nostrils until the next round, groaning softly at the grossness of the tissue.
“ohh . . but wasn’t someone saying that she isn’t dying?”
your jaw drops, “i can’t believe you would use that against me.”
the corners of your boyfriend’s lips turn up in a sly smile, “just quoting my girl. but—”
this time, he’s the one reaching over much further than you, hand clutching the neck of the guitar through the bag. gently, he settles it on both your laps, laughing when a small oof leaves your lips at just how heavy his bass was.
“i’ll do all the playing, you just mirror my movements.” with one more kiss to your temple, geto reaches around easily to play the starting notes of psycho killer. while there’s a clear layering of the lead, vocals and drums in his head, you’re just left confused by the repetitive bass.
but soon, you’re able to catch the notes that repeat over eight counts, hypnotised by the other’s longer fingers as they transition into the chorus line. it’s a little more complicated, now, descending into chords that you frankly don’t have any grasp on. one look at your face is enough to send him into soft laughter.
“okay, okay, let’s just focus on the verse.” if you weren’t feeling lightheaded from the fever before, you are now when geto curls his hands around yours, placing your finger easily on the fifth fret of the first string.
“so here . . we have the first bar of A notes, easy? then . .” he demonstrates the first four notes, plucking the strings for you before moving it down to the third fret to play the G note. a small smile spreads across his face when you slowly get the hang of it: six notes of A, two eighth notes, and then a G on the same string. geto slowly releases his left, letting you play on the melody while he helps you to pluck.
“that’s it,” still natural, it doesn’t faze geto at all to nuzzle his head into your neck from behind and to start kissing up your shoulder to your jaw, fingers still expertly plucking the string. the both of you repeat the bass line until he’s grabbing your awkward right hand and quietly, he angles your fingers so you’re following him, “you’re a fast learner.”
“i have a great teacher,” you mumble, and suguru doesn’t tell you that you just willingly kissed his jaw out of habit — because he knows you’d freak out at the possibility of getting him sick. it’s sweet, that in your delirious state you’re still acting out of admiration at the back of your mind. like the bass, loving geto feels as natural as the repetitiveness of psycho killer.
the bass notes reverberates through your bodies, just almost acting like a trance that makes your fingers falter upon the steel strings. he goes on to slowly play the chorus, stretching his fingers into weird shapes. he plays various chords, voice cracking just a bit when he tries to sing the vocals and you laugh softly.
“i just don’t have satoru’s higher register.” geto jokes, knowing you’re close to falling asleep from the way you hum and give one worded answers, so he easily takes over from you, changing it to an easy song. you let the low notes of the bass serenade you to sleep as you curl more into your boyfriend, but not before you hear a glimpse of geto’s harmonised singing to yellow.
it’s not often you hear him sing, being a bassist and all, but there is a nice edge to his voice — not quite made for vocals but you know he can do it if he tries. and even if you don’t voice it out, geto thinks the same thing. it’s similar to this stupid love thing that’s got him all tangled up and distracted, too, and he realises so many new things about himself through you.
you give love a fresh breath of life, nothing like the things suguru sings about in his unfinished demos and notebooks — multitude of things that involved you and his fucked-up perceptions and the foolishness of his parents telling him he’d find the same. you are all he thinks about when he sees the black cough syrup and he can’t stop craving the feel of your body against his.
the moment your breathing turns even and you sag against his embrace is when the strings stops and his breathing escalates. in geto suguru’s arms is the personification of something he never thought he would let into his life, yet you carry the choirs of love and acceptance so effortlessly like heath’s bass guitar solos and atsushi sakurai’s spotless vocals.
suguru’s head simply falls onto your unknowing shoulder, a small fuck that leaves his lips and a smile that he can’t contain is all he needs to know.
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@mysugu @suget @slttygeto @na-t0 💟
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bangtanflirt · 9 months
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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 1)
I'm finally showing up in tags again woohoo! 🥳 Thank you guys for your patience!
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angst, fluff, smut
Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.
Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.
Part 1 > Part 2
General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)
Specific Warnings: needles, torture collars, misogyny in the workplace, probably very inaccurate business talk (pls suspend disbelief lmao)
____
The day starts off as typical as any other, with your assistant bringing you your morning coffee. You mindlessly take a sip while scrolling through your emails, except what welcomes your lips isn’t the usual Americano, but some Iced Matcha abomination—disgustingly too sweet for nine o’clock in the morning. You look up, ready to give Assistant Min a piece of your mind, but instead see a woman in his place.
“Who are you?”
The woman flashes you a nervous smile, hands fiddling in front of her stomach.
“Yoongi-ssi had an emergency, so I’m filling in. I’m the new hire, S—”
“I don’t care what your name is, this isn’t my coffee order. Bring me my Americano before my first meeting.”
“I’m so sorry! I was taking orders for all the executives, so I got confused. I’ll bring it asap!”
She runs off, feet clicking with each hurried step of her heels.
You toss the unnaturally green drink in the trash, annoyed at the setback in your morning routine. After shooting a quick "Are you okay?" text to Yoongi, you're back to your work.
Emails pile up in your inbox as they do every morning, mountains of classified information that you need to comb through before your 10am meeting. It’s tedious, but it’s the family business after all. Your grandfather started Shin Investments in the forties, and your dad took the business to new heights when he took over, now with your parents retired and on some island in god-knows-where, it’s up to you to make sure the company doesn’t lose its footing in the venture capitalist industry.
It's twenty minutes later when your Americano does arrive. Your eyes narrow into slits upon holding the cup in your hands.
“It’s lukewarm.”
“Oh my god, I apologize! Mr. Han stopped me on the way here, briefing me about what to prep for the afternoon meeting. I did not mean to take so long! I’ll heat it up and bring it back.”
You wave your hand dismissively.
“No need. You’re fired.”
The woman almost stumbles on air at your words, catching her balance quickly.
“Miss Shin p-please..I really need this job! I won’t make a single mistake from now on!”
“Too late.” You reach for the cup, the second one of the day to end up in the trash. “Please leave before I call security. I have work to do and no caffeine to help me.”
She doesn’t leave, but rather falls to her knees, waterworks in full effect. You let out a irritated huff.
“Please! Please, I need this!”
You don’t pay the commotion any attention, used to such scenes happening in your office by now. You simply dial security.
Your receptionist watches the new girl get dragged out, eyes sympathetic as she’s tossed right in front of the front desk.
“She-she fired me…all for a cup of coffee…I’ve worked so hard to get into this company and she just…for a fucking cup of coffee!”
Mascara stains a black rim around her eyes.
“I’m so sorry Seulgi-shi. You don’t deserve that.”
“M-maybe I should go beg for a second chance after some time has passed? What if I come back in the eve—”
“You’ll be wasting your time. That would’ve worked with the previous bosses…but Miss Shin is as tough as it gets. It’s unfortunate, but I’ve seen countless people get fired for less than a cup of coffee—dragged out here just like you.”
You overhear the conversation, as the security guard didn’t properly close the door on their way out. You can’t say it makes you feel all that good, crushing some fresh-faced new hire’s dreams, but it sends a message. You knew what you had to do once the company was signed over for you—how you had to conduct yourself to survive. The world of venture capitalism was cutthroat to say the least, and still considered “not women’s business” by many. The sad reality was that, if you wanted to be taken seriously, you’d have to be feared—because respected was rarely an option. So, you play your role well and let the rumor mill do the rest, so everyone knows not to mess with the ruthless bitch of a CEO at Shin Investments.
You walk into the meeting room and the vibe immediately changes: the once lively room of everyone asking each other how their weekends went turns silent enough to hear a feather fall.  Only sound is that of your red-bottoms click-clacking and earrings jingling. You take your seat, motioning for the standing executives to do the same. They can tell you’re more irritated than usual, and that could easily mean a demotion with one wrong move.
“Everyone’s here so let’s jump into it: where are we with HoloPad?”
“We’re at the audit stage ma’am.”
“Still?”
The tension in the air is palpable.
“Th-there’s been some—erm—gap in the books. They are working on fixing it right now.”
“So they’re cooking the books?”
“I-uh-I wouldn’t say—”
“Calling it something else isn’t going to change the fact that they’re cooking the books Mr.Choi. Call off the deal.”
The executives stare at each other with dumbfounded faces, hushed complaints erupting at the table.
“But ma’am…the CEO is the heir of Jun Tech…it’s not advisable to ruin our relationship with them.”
A bunch of others chime in with the same sentiment, and you have the room of men turned against you as usual.
“Is that so Mr.Choi? Do you really advise me to invest millions into a venture that can’t even provide proper financial records? All to avoid making the Jun family angry? Mind I remind you that this is a business, not a family drama?”
“It’s just—”
“And all of you who agree with Mr.Choi here…don’t think I don’t notice the new watches on your wrists. Can’t be a coincidence, can it? Everyone who wants to continue with the deal happening to buy the newest Jun Tech watches at the same time?”
Five people, including Choi, scramble to take off their watches, heads down in shame.
You let out a hollow laugh. “You all are too dumb to even be bribed properly, I can’t believe it! Anyways, I expect five letters of resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning. This is me extending my grace for all the work you’ve done in the company so far, but if you don’t voluntarily leave, I will not hesitate to disgracefully remove you.”
That’s the last thing you say before click-clacking your heels out the room, not missing the outbursts of “bitch” and various other insults blaring from the other side of the door as soon as you leave.
It’s moments like these when you just want to call your father and have him step in to help, but you can’t. You can’t be seen as a fragile little daddy’s girl in a room full of bloodthirsty businessmen. You keep your composure until you’re in the comfort of your office, where you let yourself decompress for a minute. Only a minute, though, because your receptionist is soon knocking at your door to remind you of a charity event tonight—a reminder that would’ve come from the temporary assistant if you had not fired her an hour before.
___
The charity auction seems standard, with the usual crowd flaunting off their rare pieces of art and jewelry under the guise of doing something good. You’re not in a place to judge too much, considering you’re also here doing the same thing. You are the only one who seems to see how ridiculous it all is though, for the little that’s worth.
“Y/N! Long time no see!”
You’re immediately swept up into various groups of people wanting to “catch-up” (aka keep in your good graces for their next business venture).
Yup. A typical day.
Until Kang Byung-hun approaches you with that same condescending smile he gives you at every event. He’s a short, plump man, a little bit older in age than your father, and he’s a complete pain in your ass. The not-so-subtle jabs during formal dinners, gossiping behind your back, and overall misogynistic world-view makes you want to tear out your hair every time you see him.
“Mr.Kang!” You say in the cheeriest tone, smiling wide. He’s a pain, but he’s got a lot of influence, and you’d be an idiot to dismiss that.
“Ah Y/N. I see you’ve done yourself up for this event. On the lookout for a husband, are we?”
You keep your smile through gritted teeth.
“Just looking my best for the noble cause, sir.”
“I’m sure.”
The wait staff comes around with wine at just the right time, because god knows you can’t deal with this without at least some alcohol in you.
“Oh, I actually do have some business with you. Are you down to talk in private a bit later?”
“Why wait? Let’s talk now.” You’d rather just get it over with.
“It requires some preparation. Have to make a few calls and get some things here. I was going to put on a nice presentation in your office, but now’s a good as time as any!”
“Sounds good sir.”
What you wouldn’t give to just go home, take off these uncomfortable heels, and just face-plant on your soft bed right now. But nope, you have to wait around for this jack-ass to put on his little show. As much as he dismisses you, Kang Byung-hun is no idiot when it comes to business. Whatever his newest idea is, he knows Shin Investments is the best option for financing—especially in the bad state of the market right now.
So an hour before the party is supposed to end, you get a tap on your shoulder by Kang’s assistant, and promptly follow her to one of the spare rooms at the venue. Kang sits with a glass of champagne in hand, flashing a smile that you can’t stand. You take a seat across the circular table.
“We already exchanged pleasantries earlier, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I just got the patent for a new piece of revolutionary technology, and I’d like for Shin Investments to finance the project.”
“What type of technology are we talking?”
“How aware are you with the current market for hybrids, Y/N?”
You shrug nonchalantly. Honestly, the topic of hybrids makes you uncomfortable, as you think of it as unethical to own anything even remotely human, but you keep your personal preferences to yourself.
“I know it’s a booming industry, especially in the last three years. And I know the market is big for training tech right now.”
“Precisely!” He beams. “Training technology is in high demand. You saw how much of a hit the snake hybrid calming diffuser by Pet Armor was. Sold out in minutes! Not to mention raised the demand for snake hybrids in general. That’s when I knew I had to get in on the action and expand to the hybrid market.”
“So is that what it is? Is Pet Paradise launching its own diffuser? For a different type of hybrid?”
He shakes his head, “Nope. You know how I like to do things big, Y/N. A new hybrid diffuser is too small of a scale. What we’re creating will change the hybrid market forever.” He ends with a snap of his fingers, to which his assistant takes cue.
Before you can even process what’s going on, a leashed wolf hybrid is brought into the room.
Your attention immediately goes to the bulky metal collar around his neck, filled with buttons and stats.
“Meet Jungkook, one of the hybrids we’re beta-testing on. That magnificent thing around his neck is the Obedience Collar, and it’s going to blow your mind.”
You feel sick, dinner threatening to come up your throat the sight. The boy looks no older than twenty-one, and has more fear in his eyes than you thought possible. He’s trembling, eyes trained on the floor, trying to make himself small in the big room.
“Now, it’s no secret that wolf hybrids are amongst the hardest to train, that’s why they make the perfect subjects for this,” his assistant hands you an iPad as he talks, “first, I’d like for you to watch a video of Jungkook before he started wearing the Obedience Collar.”
You reluctantly click play, seeing the wolf hybrid with so much life in his eyes. Life and anger. He’s growling and punching his way through a team of researchers, thrashing around for his dear life.
“What a violent and unsophisticated creature he used to be!”
You have to consciously unclench your fists, making sure not to show your true feelings. It’s excruciating to sit there and listen when all you want to do is see how Kang would like it if a group of strangers got their hands on him like that.
“But now, with Pet Paradise’s newest invention, he’s the most timid little thing you could own!”
“A shock collar? Hybrid shock collars are already a thing, Mr.Kang.”
Your voice shakes slightly, and you hope no one notices.
“No no, that’s not what this is. A shock collar is a good training tool, of course, but it’s not the most efficient way to train a hybrid. If you swipe on that iPad, you’ll see the design of this collar is far advanced.”
So you hold your breath and swipe.
And whatever you’re expecting, it’s worse.
This isn’t a normal collar by any means, as proven by the product shots. The inside is lined with thin needles, which you can’t see as they are quite literally jammed into Jungkook’s neck right now.
Holy fuck.
“You see, Y/N, the Obedience Collar works from the inside. The collar is supplied with our newly developed synthetic hormones, which are injected into the bloodstream through the needles. The hormones are specifically structured to work with the DNA of most mammal hybrids, and can even make something as unruly as a wolf hybrid behave. The changes take effect within fifteen minutes of collaring! There’s a little hormone pack in the back of the collar,” he motions for Jungkook to turn around, and the boy obeys instantly, showing the rectangular box in the back of the collar, “those will need to be refilled every six months—which we’ll sell separately, so the business model is more than sustainable. Isn’t this a gold mine of an opportunity?”
Keep calm Y/N. Breathe. Compose yourself.
“Very impressive stuff,” you force out, “but I’m not sure Shin Investments is the right fit for this project. Wouldn’t you want a partner more familiar with the hybrid market?”
“Tsk tsk tsk, Y/N. What kind of venture capitalist is afraid of diversifying their portfolio? You can’t survive this industry if you only play in familiar territory—your grandfather and father both know this very well. Besides, I heard a rumor that the deal with Jun’s son won’t be going through. I’m sure the board members are having low morale right now…so why not appease them with an even better deal?”
You can’t stand the way he chastises you. What you can’t stand even more is that, from a business perspective, he’s making sense. You know a lucrative business when you see one, and this is definitely one of those. And as unintuitive as it seems, it’s all legal. Hybrid abuse isn’t really a thing the government concerns itself with, which is why the only real law is not to intentionally kill one, and even that is enforced loosely. There’s no rules being broken, no shady deals, just a proposal as legal as the meeting you had two days ago where a start-up pitched their new smart fridge. Except this time it’s not a smart fridge you’re discussing, it’s the life of a very scared and no doubt in pain hybrid, that’s standing less than five feet away from you.
Kang sees the gears in your head turning as you find any way to refuse this deal for a rational reason. So he starts playing his game of mind-chess once again, a game he’d mastered since before you were even born.
“Look, I’ll be frank with you. If you were any other woman, I wouldn’t even consider bringing this deal to you. Because we both know most women tend to be too emotional to do good business. But you’re not like that—hell, you’ve got more backbone than half the men at this party. So, what’s stopping you?”
There it was. The emotional card. The thing you were most concerned about, how showing even one ounce of emotion could be blown out of proportion because of your gender. You’ve worked too damn hard to create your reputation, and that’s why the next words out of your mouth spill before you can even think about it.
“You’re right, I was being too cautious. Let’s start with the proper procedures during work hours.”
Shit. He got you. Checkmate.
The man’s face erupts in the sleaziest grin possible.
“Perfect! You won’t regret this, it’s going to be big! In fact, I have one more surprise for you!”
You raise your brows, not needing anymore fucking surprises tonight.
“It’s Jungkook! He’s yours for the month!”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at that statement.
“Excuse me?!”
“It’s a token of our appreciation. You get to be the first ever person to own a hybrid with an Obedience Collar! You can see first-hand how remarkable the technology is. There’s five others from his pack that we can continue our tinkering on, so one less won’t hurt us. Don’t worry, the synthetic hormone part is fully developed, we’re just trying to make the collar look sleeker.”
It’s not uncommon nor unethical for you to be gifted prototypes. Businesses love giving you a taste of what you’re putting your money into, as a way to give you confidence in the product and maybe even open up possibilities for a bigger investment. But you’d never thought someone would give you a fucking hybrid.
You almost open your mouth to decline, saying something along the lines of not wanting the responsibility of a hybrid…but then something comes over you. You realize that declining means sending Jungkook back to the lab—and you just can’t bring yourself to do that. The damage you’re going to be doing by investing in this collar is going to be devastating as it is, no doubt making you the indirect torturer of many hybrids to come, but in some twisted sense of morality—you want to at least save the one in front of your eyes. Maybe even pretend that you have some good left in you.
“Thank you. I’d love to take him.”
___
The car ride back is silent and tense. Jungkook hasn’t said a single word, much less lifted his head to even look at you. He’s still trembling in the passenger seat. You have zero clue how to approach the situation. It’s not like you can take off the collar, as it’s a prototype with data still being transferred to the lab. You agreed to take him home to give him a better life, but you haven’t exactly thought far enough ahead as to how; judging by how scared he is right now, you know this isn’t going to be easy.
It's midnight when you reach home, and all you want to do is sleep. But you can’t yet, not until Jungkook is settled in. You lead him to a spare bedroom; it’s incredibly spacious and practically decorated for royalty, with a king-sized bed right in the center.
“This is where you’ll be staying.”
You see his head lift up for the first time, doe eyes scanning the room in disbelief.
“It’s late so we’ll talk more tomorrow, but for now sleep here. I don’t have nightclothes for you yet, so just sleep in what you’re wearing for the night. There are water bottles on the nightstand if you get thirsty. Do you need anything else before I head to bed?”
He adamantly shakes his head no, prompting you to exit. However, right as you’re about to walk out the door, you hear rumbling. More specifically, his stomach is rumbling. You turn back around.
“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
No response.
“If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.”
Those words seem to turn some gears in his head, as he utters his first words of the night.
“I’m hungry Miss.”
It catches you off guard how quickly he gets the words out, much different from the no-speaking rule he had enacted on himself up until now.
That’s when the realization hits you.
If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.
It sounds like a command, and that damn Obedience Collar is sure to make him comply.
You let out a defeated sigh before guiding him to the kitchen. Your cook has already called it a day, so you prepare one of the few things your tired brain can handle—frozen waffles. You toss them into a toaster, drizzle some syrup, and pile on a generous amount of whipped cream before pushing a plate in front of the awestruck boy.
“Eat up.”
With the eagerness in which he digs into the plate, you’re sure he’d be the same way without the direct command.
And that’s how your first night with Jungkook goes, with you making sure he’s fed and in his bed before heading to your own. You notice he’s trembling a little less. Baby steps.
____
A/N: If you're liking this fic, please let me know! I love and appreciate every interaction!
2K notes · View notes
yuquinzel · 1 year
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SIX WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU — itoshi sae.
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ಣ₊˚. contents — (4.2k) wc, f!reader, pure fluff, reluctant friends to lovers??, mutual pinning, roommates!au
ಣ₊˚. synopsis — itoshi sae has known you for six summers, and he's told you he's loved you in six different ways.
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i. ( like the fleeting warmth of sunsets in winter. )
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ i don't hate you. ❞
the first time you meet itoshi sae, you're fifteen and he's sixteen and you're almost certain no one in his life has ever told him to shut up. you can't stand him, he's rude and all too full of himself, and he rebuffs all your attempts at being friends. you take it as your hint to not be involved with him at all.
which would've worked if you weren't classmates and neighbors. sometimes you end up at his house more often than you'd like —courtesy of your mothers being old college roommates— and you try offering your fair shares of polite greetings of “oh, hello” and good morning or good night texts.
he either leaves you on delivered —seen 6hrs ago if you're lucky— or he prefers to stare at you like you've said the dumbest thing known to man, a curt nod is his way of acknowledging your presence but not bothering to reply back.
it's a sappy cliché. parents beings friends so naturally you and sae must spend a lot of time together except it's anything but that and you're sure he hates you. you're not a big fan of his casual glares either. you come to accept that the two of you are nothing but strangers with threads of chance meetings tangled unfavorably in your lives.
sae sits three desks away from you in the next row and yet he feels a world away from your reach. sometimes your eyes meet in the hallway and you've long since given up on smiling or waving, so that's where it ends.
you eventually become friends with rin, he's a year younger but much more tolerable than his older brother. sure, he's stoic and awkward but at least he doesn't look like he wants to kill you every second. rin walks you home every day, because you're friends. sae tags along, because his mother insists on being nice to you.
six months pass in the blink of an eye, the chilly wisps of winter beginning to gnaw away at your skin. you're sixteen now, and your relationship with sae is as rocky as always. rin's not walking with you today, so it's just you and him. there's not much talking between you and sae. you don't acknowledge his presence, maybe he prefers it that way. you call a friend instead— because as sae has come to notice, you're not a fan of long (awkward) silences— chatting away about adjusting to a new life and a seatmate that's been bothering you who just won't take the hint.
sae scoffs, and you pause.
it's been a long, tiring day and the absolute look of disdain on his face hits the last nerve, “is there a problem?”
“no,” he says flatly.
sae walks ahead without so much as sparing you a glance. he's about ten paces ahead when he turns back, “you coming or what?”
“i'm sorry if me talking is such a bother. but i'm not talking to you. why're you even here? you and i both know you'd rather be anywhere else. i know you hate me and all, but you don't have to act like you're doing me a favor. because you're not.” you spit, it's harsh and biting like the cold gusts of wind caressing your hair. heat begins to settle in your cheeks— in anger or in response to the cold against your skin, sae isn't sure.
silence creeps up in the heavy atmosphere, you think he'll disregard you as always. then, “is he bothering you too much? what, does he stalk you or something?” straightforward as always, you're not sure if sae's mocking you or feigning concern.
“why do you care? because your mom asked you to?” you cross your arms.
sae clicks his tongue, “that's not what i asked.”
he knows you're stubborn. he knows you don't have the kind of relationship with each other where you come to talk about your problems and offer solutions, so he's not surprised when you brush him off, “it's none of your business.”
you walk past him, the distance between you two feeling larger and heavier than ever. “i don't hate you.” but not enough that you don't hear him.
the next day your seatmate is bowing his head in hastened apologies and stumbling over his own words, frantically avoiding your gaze, “i'm sorry, y/n! i swear i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! i didn't stalk you or anything, i should've taken the hint! please forgive me, I'm sorry!”
you're taken aback by his trembling hands and staggered voice, the sudden modesty of apologizing.
sae doesn't walk with you that day. rin does and you ask him if he said something to your seatmate. “what seatmate?” he'd replied. you remember you didn't tell him anything about anyone bothering you.
you didn't tell anyone besides your friend who lives all the way back in Hokkaido—
— and sae.
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ii. ( like the first spark of festival firecrackers. )
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ call me by my first name.❞
the festival spirit is exuberant per usual. the night-time adorned with food stalls coupled with fumes of spices and sizzling meet, children running through tents, and the blossoms of juvenile love confessions filling the air with the laughter and cheering of people attempting at festival games— it's enchanting, catching you in a trance.
you'd somehow convinced sae to join you, “we'll just go and watch the fireworks show. you'll have fun, i can guarantee that much.”
sae turns seventeen before you, his life falling into a rhythm of soccer practice (as much as he can), classes (mandatory, unfortunately), back home and exercise (lots of it), then watching the clips of the matches of every opposing team (he loses track of time). 
the stone of walking home with you everyday is thrown somewhere in there, with the ripples in its wake stretching comfortably in his life. it's no longer at the instance of his mother. out of habit or choice, you wait for him everyday until his practice is over and sae doesn't mind it too much. he never really did, it might just be something he looks forward to. (you don't need to know that.) he'll say a lot has changed— he's not sure if you can be called a friend but somewhere along the way, awkward silences turned into comfortable breaths of matching paces as you walk, eyes meeting by chance outside of class and sae doesn't mind being the one to wave first, he turns on his notifications just so he can reply to you in time albeit dryly, you've learned to not take it personally.
it did take efforts from both of you— sae being just a little more careful with his words around you, a little more patient. his responses are quick and sharp as ever, but not dismissive anymore. when you talk to him, it doesn't feel like a one-way conversation. he's figured he likes listening to you talk more than initiating any conversation. and you've learned that while sae will rarely be the one to break the silence, he most definitely hates it as much as you do.
one step at a time— matching paces to walk together, waiting for the other one to catch up, that's how you and sae work.
so when he'd initially refused to your suggestion, he's quickly learned that you're a lot more persistent and criminally good at convincing him than he'd like. this is how he now finds himself with you, laid out on a hill in the north of tokyo prefecture, empty boxes of food lying beside and the wistful blues of post-sunset before the two of you.
“see, sometimes its not bad to enjoy the good things in life, itoshi.” you hum, lightly pulling at the grass beneath you.
“i do enjoy the good things in life. soccer is good.”
“yeah, yeah. but taking a break like this is pretty fun, isn't it? don't be shy, admit it already.” you joke, and sae doesn't reply. when you turn to look at him, he's already staring at you.
“what is it?” you ask, reeling back a little. it's a little unnerving, being the centre of sae's attention. it makes you feel small— for reasons you can't name. but it also makes you feel a little special, that's just one of the many things about sae you dont think you'll ever understand.
he draws just a little closer, the air shifting with him, “you still call me itoshi.”
“what?”
sae doesn't inch back, if anything, he's looking at you like he can't tear his eyes away, “nothing. you just don't call rin by our last name."
oh. that.
“uhm, so do you want me to?” you ask, a little hesitantly.
“i don't mind if you call me by my first name, y/n.” there's a certain lilt to the way he says your name, as if he's emphasizing on first name basis. he's always used your first name, and you've always noticed it sounds different wiith him.
he says it like it always rests there at the tip of his tongue, like an unspoken word finally leaving his lips. he says it like it's the answer to everything, like it's so natural that it's you— there's yes and there's no, and then there's your name.
you feel the heaviness of his gaze as if in anticipation, waiting to hear you say it. so after a moment of reticence, “okay, sae, first name basis it is.”
if you didn't know better, you'd say he looks... satisfied. something wavers in his eyes and he looks away, you find yourself missing the way his gaze lingers on yours.
later that night you'd lay in your bed, events of earlier playing in your mind in a loop.
sae.
his name rolls off your tongue as you bring a finger to trace your lips. you repeat it to yourself over and over and over again until it leaves a sweet, luscious aftertaste. it simmers in your voice and sounds like a lullaby. a melody of his name sung like secret whispers, one that calms you and eventually puts you to sleep. you think you like how it sounds, much like how your own does in his voice.
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iii. ( like a lovedrunk gaze finding yours at 2 am. )
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ i don't mind if it's you.❞
you. sae. roommates.
the idea is laughable. downright idiotic. fifteen year old you would've bet a snowball's chance in hell that you and sae could ever be roommates. plenty of reasons for this to be impossible. one, for example— sae and you attend different universities. two— sure, you've gotten closer as friends but sae isn't exactly roommate material. well, he did mention he'd never even shared a room with rin so you can guess he's never had much experience either.
you'd suggested it as a joke, thrown it among the laughs and snarky comments in the games of uno you'd been winning for the past hour, “if i let you win the next match, will you let me move in with you?”
he'd scoffed at you, throwing a draw 4 card with a smirk because you're down to one card, “you lose.”
“you can't end the game with a wild card, smartass."
“sure can. players make the rules, and i just won." he says flatly.
“that is not what we agreed—”
“i win.”
“you're just making that up, sae, take it back this is gonna be my tenth win.”
“but i don't have any other card, what did you say about moving in?”
you pause at that, you didn't think he'd pay attention, “i was joking, you know I'm looking for a place near college.” you say as you pick up the deck of cards, shuffling them again to deal because arguing with sae is like arguing with a wall that sends death glares your way, you don't entertain that idea very much.
sae ponders your words, wonders if you mean it or not. he briefly imagines it, being roommates with you. then the words leave his mouth before he can think about it, “it's not a bad idea.”
you halt in your movements, letting silence take form. he almost regrets saying anything because what if you were just joking? what if you'd wanted him to brush it off as a joke too? did he overstep?— until he sees you gaping at him like an idiot. then he relaxes, and you think you hear him snicker, prompting you to come back to your senses. had you heard him right?
“it's not?”
sae shrugs, a little more confident in his words this time, “it's not. you know my place is near your college. you're tolerable, i don't mind having a roommate if it's you.”
he doesn't mind having a roommate if it's you. he doesn't mind spending a significant amount of his time in the same house, under the same roof with someone even though it goes exactly against the very reason he got a place for himself— if, and only if, that someone is you.
you'd be lying if you said that didn't just boost your ego and swelled your heart a little.
you try to bite back a smile, but fail anyway, “you're serious? when'd you get so generous?”
he doesn't say anything, offers you his signature scoff instead. well, if he knew what to say, he probably would. sae doesn't know why he suggested it. he's sure he would've said no before anyone else could throw the question. but then again— you're giggling and making fun of him and doing a little victory dance in your spot every time you win. it's 2 am, he remembers. and he's sitting in the living room of his apartment playing uno with you when he's not even sure he understood the rules.
he doesn't mind this too much. he thinks he can handle losing every match every night— if it's with you.
“you don't expect me to clean and cook for you right?” you joke, and sae takes a look at his card, and you catch the way his eyes flash with disappointment —he knows he's gonna lose this time for sure— “again, not a bad idea.”
“i mean if you pay me enough, i might—”
“that's not how that works.” he sets down a blue 5.
“that's exactly how it works.”
“i'm not the one looking for a place to live.” he says dryly, but you hear the amusement in his voice.
“hey sae,” your voice is close to a whisper, and sae hums. he waits for you to put down your card, or say something witty like you usually would. when you don't, he looks up at you, a pretty smile on your lips, “thank you, really.” you say before putting down a blue draw 2 card, but suddenly sae can't really focus on the game.
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iv. ( like a breath of relief at the sight of home. )
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ because i wanted to. ❞
“sae, what the fuck?” you groan, rubbing your temples to ease the damn headache you woke up with.
“i thought i told you—” he begins, stirring something in the pan before grabbing a bowl, “—to stay in your room. everything's fine here.” he says, but nothing is fine, actually.
to put it simply— it's a fucking disaster.
you're not surprised, truly you're not. sae in the kitchen is always a disaster waiting to happen in the name of accidents and “i was just trying to warm the leftovers.” the sink is filled piles upon piles of dishes and something is burning in the pan to which sae isn't really paying attention to.
“have breakfast if you're here, you look like shit.” he says casually, as if there's not smoke slowly filling the air.
“i feel like shit too, but what are you trying to do?”
“making breakfast, obviously. well, yours is ready, you can take the scrambled eggs over there.” he beckons to the plate set on the table, and it's the only thing anywhere close to normal and edible.
“but it's my turn, you're on dishwasher duty.”
sae spares you glance— more like he shoots you a look of are you stupid? and did you seriously just say that, then clicks his tongue as he goes back to making whatever it is you don't dare question.
“didn't you have a headache?” he says at last.
“that was last night sae, i mean it still hurts like a bitch but not as bad as before. and anyway you didn't know that, so why?”
“because i wanted to. now pipe down, you talk too much.” he brushes off your words.
and you realise he's not gonna say it out loud. he's not gonna actually verbalise it like “you had a headache last night and i was worried you'd still be feeling like crap so i just thought I'd make you breakfast— even though i might burn down the kitchen in the process”, he'll instead say, “well? I'm not gonna hand feed you.”
and thats okay, you've long since learned to read between the lines and connect the slip-ups of his words. sae isn't one to swallow his own words, he says it like it is, for what it means. but there are times some meanings lie in his actions, not his unspoken words.
so you say nothing more, having heard him loud and clear. you sit down, eyeing your breakfast carefully. then, very calmly, “sae, this has eggshells in it.”
his head whips faster than an owl turning to you, “the fuck? shit—”, he takes the plate from your hands, “wait just a minute, this'll be done in seconds.” he beckons to the fried rice in the pan, the one you're sure was burning minutes ago.
“that's your breakfast sae—”
“’m fine, I'll have cereals.”
“you... hate cereals though?”
“do me a favor and shut up.”
you laugh at that, a sweet and warm laugh, “seriously, what are you doing sae? the kitchen's a disaster and I'm sure whatever you're making is not edible. you don't have to do this, i can have cereal too.”
he pauses at that, turns to you instead. he finds you smiling at him, and his shoulders relax ever so slightly. “you stayed up late last night with all those damn projects, i just thought breakfast would be nice.”
“thank you, that's really sweet of you. but you know what would be really nice? we have cereals, then we watch reruns of friends, and after that we can just laze around the whole day, get nothing done. you and me, it's the weekend.”
sae looks at you— really looks at you. the worry lines blurred on your forehead, the spilled darkening highlighting below your eyes, the tired haze in your voice, the warm but exhausted smile you wear.
he thinks you're beautiful, with your morning hair and still a bit of sleep in your eyes— you're beautiful and he cant find it in him to look away.
“okay,” he breathes— a sigh of relief and warmth and gratitude.
“okay,” you repeat.
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v. ( like the union of heavens and the earth. )
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎❝ you don't know what you do to me.❞
sae's not sure how he ended up like this.
the first semester of second year in university has started, the wind carries the smell of wet earth after the first showers of spring, a touch of the scent of lemongrass lingers in the air— and you're stumbling on your feet with your already slurred words and bubbling laughter sputtering through the air.
he's amused really, because you're sober enough to at least remember who he is but tipsy enough to push forward with your insistence on reminding him how pretty he looks.
“saeee, i missed youuuu,” you whine, head falling back against his arm as it goes around to rest on your shoulder.
“you saw me 4 hours ago, and we live together.” he says, watching the way you frown at his words.
“but i still missed you, you should've been with me.” you purse your lips, the way you do when you try to hide your smiles.
“yeah, i think i should've, you're a mess.”
“and you're so pretty,” you slur, bringing your fingers to brush over the smooth skin of his cheeks, “your eyelashes are prettier than mine.”
sae holds you by your arm, a firm and protective grip. he walks patiently, making sure you don't trip on air, “is that so?” he chuckles, betting on the possibility that you'll likely not remember this.
“were you always this pretty, sae or am i too drunk?” you giggle, stumbling forward into his arms.
sae holds you still, “you're drunk, idiot.” they say people are honest when drunk, so surely you mean what you said? god, he's glad you can barely keep your eyes open because he can feel his ears burning.
“but you're pretty, so pretty, i could kiss you right now.”
sae thinks he feels the ground shift beneath his feet— or was it him that tripped a little? heat begins to settle in his cheeks, you've very successfully knocked the air out of his lungs with just a few words, “shut up, I'm taking you home.”
“why, you don't want to?” you tilt your head, cheeks round and wholesome and sweetly puffed.
fuck— a drunk you is very dangerous. sae makes a mental note of never underestimating your flirting skills when you're tipsy.
“you'll hate me for it later, just quiet down.”
“i won't. never, i promise.” the playful way you're grinning at him right now with warm hues favouring the color of your skin, sae frowns at that.
it's unfair, he thinks. you can't just get drunk and then call him pretty with amused eyes and playful grins, you can't just compliment him on his eyelashes and tell him how much you missed him. it's not fair you get to say you want to kiss him even though you might not remember it when he most definitely will think about it forever. he's not even sure if you mean it as a joke because he sure doesn't. and god it's really not fair how you're just standing there, breathing and smiling and holding onto him for support— and still look so goddamn beautiful. you're looking at him with glimmering eyes, waiting for him to take a step forward.
he wants to take a chance. he wants to run his fingers through your hair and guide your arms to loop around his shoulders. he wants to taste the alcohol faint on your lips and breathe your name like you belong to him.
he wants to kiss you. and to have you kiss him back.
he thinks maybe— just maybe, if he takes a step forward, you'll take one too.
so he does, “god, you don't know what you do to me.”
his lips crash with yours first, you'd hoped him to. it's warm and soft, slow and delicate, like only you know sae can be. it's long-awaited, you can feel the desperation building up under the hastened patterns sae's hands begin to trail down your arms, slithering round your waist as he pulls you close and closer. when you bring your hand to cradle the side of his jaw, sae melts into your touch. he feels his own heart ricochet like comets inside his ribcage— reducing all his thoughts to white noise. he pulls back once —to breathe, to accept, to admire— and then draws you back in. when your lips part for a final time and breaths tangle as one, you feel time freeze in that moment.
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vi. ( like the first ray of sunshine through the window. )
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ i love you. ❞
“don't you fucking dare,” sae sneers, his hold on you tightening to keep you in place.
“sae come on, i have to make breakfast. do you want me to starve?” you protest, struggling to wrestle yourself out of his hold.
but sae's strong, and he's stubborn.
“breakfast can wait, i don't wanna get up yet.”
“how is it about you? i'm hungry sae.”
“and I'm tired, we don't even have breakfast this early on weekends. just lie back down, you know you want to.” sae tugs on your arm, and he's right— his arms held out look big and warm and welcoming.
“i really don't know what to do with you,” you let his arm snake around your waist once again, and pull you back under the sheets, “you're impossible.”
“and you can't resist me,” you think he looks pretty this way— the sunlight highlighting his smile as he pulls you closer, determined to not allow even an inch of space between you both.
“no, i can't resist running away from responsibilities.”
“i love you,” the words roll off his tongue before he can stop himself, it's not really intentional— it's just you and the scent of your shampoo and the flutter of your eyelashes against his cheeks, the curve of your lips on his and the warmth of your skin. it's certain and precise and so full of love— to sae, the idea of loving you comes as naturally as breathing. so it's natural the words are pulled from his throat like it's all just a part of him and spilled between morning mellows and fond chuckles.
“i love me too,” you joke, nuzzling closer into his chest.
“say it back—”
you shut him up with a kiss, “and i think i love you too.”
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© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
i wrote this last night and then cried myself to sleep why isn't he real i want him 🥹
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ahtae · 5 months
Text
just this once (pt.2) (c.s)
You and Soobin have been friends forever...so one little kiss shouldn't hurt...right?
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warnings: sub! soobin x dom reader, very slight agoraphilia, biting, name-calling (binnie, ma'am/miss), degradation, praise, marking, pussy eating, penetration, breeding kink, use of mommy,
You went downstairs, as cool-natured as you could manage, and Soobin followed soon after. He gives your mother a kiss on the cheek and showers her with compliments on her cooking — like he's always done.
You didn't know why you hadn't seen it before. The way his raven hair cascades over his eyes, the shimmer of his creamy skin under the light. Soobin was beautiful in a way that made a boy sexy. All sharp lines and angles, yet gentle and innocent in a way that made him boyish and safe.
In between bites of your food, you catch Soobin staring. He turns pink from cheeks to ears, pushing around the corn on his plate. You look down at your shirt, subtly tugging it downward to reveal a tad more cleavage.
You look up and see him holding his breath, trying to avert his eyes elsewhere and shoving a spoonful of corn in his mouth.
"Did you finish your assignment, sweetie?" Your mom asks.
You dip your head in a nod, "Last one! Soobin helped me," you say, winking at him. He nods his head, ignoring your teasing, "She seemed to be struggling so—"
You kick him underneath the table. He chuckles. Soobin and your mom continue to talk to each other about classes, leaving you to entertain yourself with your own thoughts. And oh, did you have an idea.
Sliding your leg closer to him, you snake a socked foot up his leg, trailing his calf to his knee. Soobin's jaw ticks as he glances over at you, then returns to conversing with your mom. Your mouth turns in a smirk. Your foot makes it way to his chair, resting between his legs. Soobin shifts, opening his legs and giving you more space to work with.
You add pressure to his cock, rubbing back and forth in a way that has him half-hard already. Soobin, as well as he's masking it, is about to cave. He's about to apologize to your mother and drag you upstairs to finish what you started. He settles himself, forcing himself to pay attention to whatever your mom is saying. He doesn't really know. Nor does he really care. But he needs to pay attention to his maybe future in-laws.
Then you get up from the table, collect everyone's plates, and claim that you're going to get ready for bed. You look to him, curious whether he's going to take this as his time to exit as well. Alas, he stays. For a reason he doesn't even know why. Maybe it's to calm himself. To get rid of his ever growing lust for you. He isn't supposed to lust after you. He's supposed to want to take care of you and make love to you. So why does he want to pull you to pull his hair and call you his bad little boy?
The conversation with your mother dies down (finally) and Soobin scurries upstairs, hoping you weren't too busy. He opens the door to your bedroom to discover you already in the bathroom, showering, he assumes. He sighs, grabbing his bag.
That's when he hears the door click, pop open, and hot steam spill out the bathroom.
There you are, lacy panties, and no bra.
Soobin immediately turns around. His face is scalding with a crimson blush. He clamps his eyes shut, "I uhm...I'm sorry! I left my bag in here and—"
"Soobin," you say, voice low and slow. "It's okay, turn around."
"But...but you're..." he gulps, tongue wetting his dry lips and wishing he had something for his desert-like throat right now. "Are you sure?" he asks.
You walk up and turn him around. Soobin's eyes meet yours for a second, before immediately trailing down your body. His mouth waters at the sight of your boobs, plump and still damp from the shower.
He drops his bag, chest rising and falling as he steps closer. "May-may I?" He asks.
"It doesn't sound like you really want it Soob—"
"Please. Please let me touch you, I need it," he begs, holding your hands and gazing at you through those big doe eyes of his. You lick your lips, growing wet at his begging.
You lean in, and kiss his cheek teasingly, "Go ahead, binnie."
He kisses your collarbones and the valley between your boobs. Thanking you in-between kisses for allowing him to touch you like this.
Soobin pops a boob into his mouth, tongue swirling around your nipple. You groan, gripping into his hair. Soobin whines into you, switching your other boob. Carefully, he places you on the bed.
His giant hands cling to your waist with enough force to leave finger indentions. Soobin releases your breast, panting as his tongue traces the inside of his mouth — eyes closed — trying to memorize the taste of you.
You pull him into a eager kiss. Your tongues mixing together as he hovers over you. He slides his hands down your wrist before clasping your hands together. You moan in his mouth, and he devours it. Soobin moves to strip his shirt, and you help him. Curious fingers dance over outline of his abs, sculpting his pale skin into hard marble.
"I've been thinking about you," he presses a kiss into your lips, "All throughout dinner," he says. "That little stunt you pulled earlier?" Soobin quirks an eyebrow at you. He whips his glasses off, tossing them on the dresser.
"I'll pay you back for it."
With that, he kisses a hot trail down your boobs, across the plain of your stomach, before licking right above your panties.
"You smell just as sweet as I dreamed you'd be."
Your hand pushes back his hair, "then what are you waiting for?"
Soobin tugs off your panties, throwing them towards his backpack so he'll remember to take them later. His tongue licks a stripe up your cunt, and you groan, hands immediately flying to his hair.
"S-Soobin fuck..." you breathe, gripping into him. His tongue circles your clit. He licks you up and down, back and forth, and sucks your clit like he's been starved. Your hands tug his hair and his scalp grows hot with pain. He whimpers, beginning to hump the bed.
"Soobin? Did I tell you you could get off yet?"
"N-no..." he whines, looking up from between your legs. You force his mouth back onto your clit, relishing in wet heat of his mouth.
"Do what you do best and make me feel good."
He's lapping at your cunt. Moaning and whimpering and agreeing with you. "Yes. Yes, anything to make you feel good. Only hear to make you feel good," he says.
Your moans get louder as you get closer and closer. Wet noises fill the room, as if there's a cat lapping at milk. Soobin adds two lengthy fingers inside you, causing you to release all over his digits.
Soobin eagerly laps up your juices, pulling his fingers out and groaning as he pops them into your mouth.
You flip Soobin over, pushing him down onto the bed. Soobin looks up at you, the entire bottom half of his face wet from your cunt. He whines as you palm his length through his pants. You trail your fingers above the hem of pants, before tugging them off swiftly. Soobin grips the sheets.
"I...fuck...you're so hot," he breathes.
You spread his legs, sitting in between them and massaging his inner thighs. You press a hot kiss against his smooth skin, before sucking the spot into a furious purple.
Soobin fingers claw at the sheets, his mouth gapping open as a hitch escapes his throat. You feel a wet spot growing in his boxers, and release his thigh from your teeth.
Upon seeing your scornful face, Soobin begins stutter apologies,"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to. You're just so...fucking perfect I couldn't hold—"
"Dirty boy can't even wait for me? Who do you think you are cumming without my permission?"
He pouts, tears brimming his eyes, "I'm sorry ma'am I—"
You tug down his boxers, his cock still springing out of his pants. My God, why has your best friend been hiding all this delicious length for? He's massive, with the perfect amount of girth to fill you just the way you like.
You scoff, slapping his dick. Soobin yelps, whimpering.
"Who's fucking cock is this?" You bark.
Soobin whines, "Yours, miss. I'm all yours. Always have been."
You spit on his cock, swirling your saliva and his cum together with your hand until your pumping starts sounding like squelching. Soobin's mouth is open in a slack 'o' letting moans escape his mouth in tandem with your pumping.
Climbing on top of him, you bring him in for a kiss. Soobin eagerly obliges, and you taste yourself on his lips. You align yourself with him and sink down onto him. Both of you release a moan into each other's mouth, before Soobin starts pistoning into you.
"F-fuck," he whispers, the ghost of his words dancing on the shell of your ear. "Gonna fill you up so good. Gonna make you so full with my babies," the lowness of his voice rumbles between your chests, making you clutch onto his shoulders.
You moan, "Wanna make me a mommy, hm?" You groan when Soobin hits your g-spot, eyes starting to roll. "Bet you would love seeing my tits full of milk."
Soobin cums on the spot with that, pulling you into him and muffling his grunts into your neck. His hands find your boobs, one hand on each as he rolls your nipples between his fingers.
You feel your orgasm shoot up your spine like a bullet train, and pour down your thighs like a rainstorm. You shake so violently Soobin is forced to hold you against him as you come down.
You sit up, straddling him and leaving him inside you. His entire face is covered in tears and your juices. He looks like he just saw heaven for the first time, pearly gates, gold and all. His brown irises shine as he looks at you, as if he never had before.
"Soobin—"
"Don't," he interrupts. Soobin takes your hand in his, placing a small kiss in the center of your palm. "Please," he says into your hand before looking up at you. "Just...give us a chance first? Yeah? I've liked you for too long and..." he takes a deep breath, trying to gain control of himself. "...and I know I won't be able to just be your friend after this," he finishes. Soobin plants a couple kiss over your knuckles, interlocking your fingers together. "Just be mine."
Soobin's words hit you so much you jolt on top of him. You can't imagine what kind of pain he must've been in. Watching you quietly from the sidelines after all these years, watching you with multiple guys and not saying a singular word.
You lean down, planting a thick kiss onto his forehead. "Soobin, I was going to say I didn't know you were a freak like that..." you trail off, snickering and pinching his cheek. He flushes underneath you, silently punching himself for jumping to conclusions.
"But since you asked so nicely," you say, popping a light kiss onto his lips. Soobin smiles, no teeth, and not widley, but in a way that makes his eyes tilt upward with joy.
"Yes, Soobin, I will be yours."
~~~~
THIS WAS FILLLLTHHHHYYY
But I hope you enjoyed!! I was debating whether or not to give them a happy ending, but I decided that they worked together enough for one. Tell me how you guys like this, and who else you would like me to write for maybe?
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muchosbesitos · 6 months
Text
flashing lights
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(short little drabble based on this gif 🥸)
pairing: actor miguel o’hara x co-star reader
contents: brief mentions of sex
word count: 800+
You and Miguel had been cast as co-stars for a 'marriage in crisis' show and the two of you were currently promoting it at a film festival. The evening was spent of signing autographs and delving into what you characters were based on, but eventually the two of you found your way back to each other at the center of the stage after talking with some reporters, posing for some of the cameras.
While Miguel normally found this to be the extraneous part of being a movie star, he didn't mind it so much when he was with you. He'd been known to be cold on set and he'd ran off so many assistants that he had to make his own, but he instantly had a connection with you. You'd treated him so kindly, like he wasn't a movie star, but rather, an actual person. The chemistry through the screen with you was palpable, even having the director asking the two of you to tone it down a little bit.
Every single kiss scene or sex scene between the two of you didn't feel awkward, it felt like it was second nature to him. The way your back arched when he was kissing down your neck, leaving small bite marks in his wake. Though he knew that it was wrong to form some attachment to you, he couldn't help but want to leave his mark on you. After a while, being on stage with you didn't feel like it was his job but rather something that he wanted to do. Something that he needed to do to satiate the burning desire he felt inside.
He wrapped his hand around the small of your back and you brought your hands up to his cheeks, the two of you facing each other as the cameras clicked away. The two of you separated after a couple seconds and you brought your arm up to his shoulder, almost embracing him in a side hug. He took the opportunity to look straight into your eyes as he lowered his head, leaving small kisses on your arm. He instantly regretted the decision as the smell of your perfume and body wash combined into the sweetest scent, intoxicating every thought that had been roaming around in his head.
As predicted, the reporters went wild and started cheering at the two of you, but he couldn't help but keep his eyes on you as he did so. His red eyes burned into you with such intensity that you were almost convinced for a minute that this wasn't all a show, that this wasn't acting. He'd turned his body sideways so he was facing you completely, making the scene all the more intimate. "¡Beso! ¡Beso!" one of the reporters from Univision started chanting, wanting to get a glimpse of the chemistry between the two of you in person. (kiss)
"Can I kiss you?" He whispered in your ear and you nodded, solely convinced that it was just because the two of you were acting. He brought his lips towards yours, the clicking of the cameras matching the thundering of his heartbeat against his chest. While this was just acting for you, he saw this as an opportunity to have you close to him and to taste what he's been missing since filming ended.
He knew he'd get a phone call from his brother tomorrow after seeing this on Primer Impacto, probably a dramatized version of events, but he couldn't find it in him to care at the moment. He was just basking in the way that your lips melted against his, the way your body leaned into his touch even though the two of you had solely agreed to only be friends. The two of you pulled away at the same time and the reporters cheered at getting their new headline for tomorrow, the flashing of cameras never stopping.
Miguel felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he continued to take photos with you, every position having the two of you close and intimate. He couldn't help but fall even more in love with the way that you felt in his arms, like the missing puzzle piece from his life and the way that you answered every question the reporter had with such precision.
You didn't leave anything up in the air with your answers but you also didn't reveal too much to the reporters, making them want more and more. It felt ironic the more that he thought about it, that he and the reporters just wanted you to give them more and more of your presence. The two of you eventually separated and walked off the stage to your respective dates for the night.
But if this was all acting like the two of you said it was, then why couldn't he get you out of his mind? Why couldn't he stop thinking about what it would be like to actually have sex with you, of kissing you, and holding you without any cameras nearby? And why, why did he feel so empty as he walked back to the date his manager picked out for the night? Why did he wish so badly that he would be leaving home with you instead of his date?
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7ndipity · 5 months
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Second Glances
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: You and Yoongi have been best friends for years, but after you confess you feelings for him, Yoongi realizes he might have misread his own feelings towards you.
Word Count: 1.9K
Warnings: slight angst, swearing, lil suggestive at the end, partially proofread
A/N: Thanks so much to @whitefoxgirl for this request! Tbh, I'm not entirely happy with this, but I didn’t want to leave you hanging for ages while I nitpicked.🙄 I hope you still like it tho💜
Masterlist
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It was a strange thing, how you could go on seeing someone the same way for years, and then all of a sudden, something happens and turns you on your head.
When Hobi had first introduced you to his fellow members after you moved to Seoul, you and Yoongi had clicked instantly, much to the surprise of everyone else. No one could quite understand it, but the two you had seemed to fit together naturally like two halves of a whole, the yin to his yang; while he was on the quieter, more introverted side, you were bright and loud, with an infectious enthusiasm. A prime example of that being the way he could hear you and Hobi before you ever entered his studio, laughing loudly as you rushed through the door ahead of his bandmate.
“There’s no way you did that!” You insisted.
“I did, I swear, we even have video of it!” Hobi argued.
“What the fuck are you two yelling about?” Yoongi asked, more amused than annoyed by the sudden noise.
“Did he actually go bungee jumping?” You asked, turning your attention to him.
“Why would I lie about that?!” Hobi exclaimed.
“Oh, that,” Yoongi deliberated for a second before smirking over at Hobi. “No, he didn’t.”
“Why are you lying?!” Hobi yelled, making you both burst into laughter. As much as Hoseok loved you and his hyung becoming friends, you were absolute menaces together, constantly teasing him and the members, as well as each other.
“Screw it, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come with us to get something to eat?” He asked, exasperatedly.
“Sure.” Yoongi answered, still laughing slightly.
“Cool, I’m gonna go find Jimin, I’ll be right back.” He announced, heading back out the door before either of you could say anything else.
Yoongi turned his attention back to the screen in front of him as you settled on the sofa, Hobi apparently having taken your energy with him as he left, as silence suddenly fell over the room.
Yoongi glanced over at you. “You okay?”
“Hmm?” You looked up in confusion. “Yeah, why?”
“I dunno, you just got kinda quiet.” He shrugged.
You let out a small laugh. “I’m okay, I just know that you don’t like a lot of noise, so I usually try to be a little calmer when it’s just us so I won’t bug you.”
“You don’t bug me.” He said.
“No?” You looked at him doubtfully.
“Well, not a significant amount.” He smirked, making you laugh again. “You wanna see what I’m working on?”
“Really?” Your eyes lit up.
“Sure.” He said, pulling a second chair over close to his so you could both see the screen as he hit play.
Yoongi was normally quite private about his music, at least until it was finished, but he loved getting to show you his new projects, talking animatedly as you listened to part of the song, explaining how he mixed and layered the audio files, or what lines he liked best.
“So is this how you get girls?” You said, unable to resist teasing him just a little bit as he spoke.
“No,” He shot you a sly look. “I just like getting to teach you stuff.”
“Oh really?” You grinned, leaning over the arm of your chair. “You know, I don’t know how to kiss either, care to teach me that?”
Yoongi’s eyes widened, looking over at you in surprise.
“I’m just joking Yoongs!” You laughed, trying to quickly dispel any awkwardness. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“Eh, it’s okay, it boosts my ego.” He replied, grinning at you.
“Really?” You asked.
“Yeah, even if I know you’re just playing around.” He said, shooting you a quick wink, missing the way you looked away, falling silent again for a new reason.
While it was true that part of your flirty remarks were just for the sake of teasing him, enjoying the way you could so easily make him flush red, that wasn’t the case for all of them.
In the past few months, your feelings for Yoongi had shifted from those of purely a friend into something more, a fact that you had been trying to subtly bring to Yoongi’s attention, apparently without success.
You hadn’t wanted to just drop the information on him like a bomb, fully aware that he might not reciprocate, and not wanting to jeopardize your friendship, but clearly your current approach was not going to get you any type of answer.
“What if I wasn’t?” You said suddenly.
“What?” He glanced back at you, confused.
“What if I wasn’t kidding? What if I liked you?” You asked, watching him carefully.
He blinked at you. “I-, did, wait what?!”
“I know it’s probably not the best time, but I don’t know if there’ll ever be a ‘best time’ to say this.” You took a breath. “I like you, as more than a friend, and I understand if you don’t feel the same for me, but I just… I just wanted to say it.” You finished, staring down at your hands, afraid to meet his gaze.
He stared at you in complete shock, his mind scrambling to try and make sense of what you’d just said. How long had you felt this way? What did this mean for your friendship?
The seconds ticked by as the silence in the room grew nearly unbearable.
“Please say something.” You urged.
“Y/n, I-,” Yoongi sat back in his chair. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t see you that way.” He said as gently as possible.
You nodded, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
“I’m so sorry.” He apologized.
“It’s alright, I knew it was a long shot,” You smiled at him. “At least now I know, and we can go on as normal.”
He blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah.” You chuckled slightly at his bemused expression. “I’m a grown woman, Yoongi, I can handle a little rejection. I knew you might not feel the same, but nothing’s changed, you’re still one of my best friends. I just wanted to tell you.”
“Okay.” He said, visibly relaxing.
“Are we still okay?” You asked.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah, we’re good.”
“Cool.” You smiled, quickly changing the subject as the others came back in.
To Yoongi’s surprise, you lived up to your word, continuing on with your friendship as if nothing had ever happened, hanging out with him and other members as usual. Even that same day at lunch, no one else would’ve had an inkling of what had transpired between the two of you from the way you acted, sitting together and talking easily, still making your teasing comments here and there.
Everything was exactly the same, except it wasn’t.
It was miniscule at first, but in the weeks that had followed, it was clear that something had changed. Not you exactly, but something in the way Yoongi saw you changed; the way you laughed at something he said, or the way you smiled at him, but suddenly everything about you seemed to draw him in, leaving him questioning his words to you. Did he see you as more than a friend?
Looking back, he couldn’t deny that he’d always thought you were attractive, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was attracted to you. And maybe sometimes his heart rate picked up a little more than usual due to your flirty remarks, but that was just because you caught him off guard. It didn’t mean anything, right? It wasn’t like he caught himself thinking about you constantly or wondering about how your lips would feel against his-
What the fuck?! He shook himself, quickly glancing over at where you were sitting on his sofa, working peacefully on your laptop.
He felt like he was going crazy, like he was gaslighting himself. Was your confession really all it had taken to make him develop feelings for you? Or had they existed the whole time and he was just too blind to notice? Why couldn’t he have had this fucking revelation three weeks ago when you were sat in front of him? But of course you figured it out first, you were always more forward than he was, that was one of the things he loved about you…
Fuck.
The worst part was that you could tell something was off, but he couldn’t very well tell you what. He would look like a complete asshole if he tried to make a move on you after having rejected you, like he was just fucking around with your feelings.
“Yoongs?” Your voice suddenly snapped him back to the present, realizing he’d been staring off into space.
“Sorry.” He mumbled, turning back to his computer.
You sighed, sitting up and moving your things off to the side.
“Are we gonna talk about this?” You asked.
“About what?” He didn’t look up.
“About how weird you’ve been acting lately.” You said.
He didn’t respond, looking down.
“Look, if this is about what I said-”
“It’s not.” He denied quickly.
“Yoongi, you’ve barely even looked at me today.” He turned around, meeting your eyes as you stared at him.
“Please, just talk to me.” You pleaded.
He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m a fucking idiot.”
You waited. “Because?”
“Because I screwed up,” He said. “You told me how you felt and I said no, but now I can’t stop thinking about it and, fuck, you must hate me, I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying but I-”
His ramble was abruptly cut off by you striding across the room and crashing your lips to his, making his mind go blank. He leaned up into you, hands finding your hips to steady you as you leaned over his chair, your hands tangling in his hair, savoring the taste of your lip balm on his tongue.
Too soon for his liking, you pulled away, breathing heavily as you met his eyes.
“I definitely don’t hate you,” You breathed. “Though I do have some things to say about your communications skills.” You snickered.
“Of course you do.” He scoffed.
“We can talk about that later though.’ You smiled. “Right now, I'd rather us just cover the basics.”
You leaned in again, noting the way his breath hitched slightly.
“Do you want this?” You asked softly.
He stared up at you with dark eyes, his voice coming out as almost a whisper. “I do.”
You kissed him, pressing him back in his chair as you moved to straddle him, earning a soft grunt from him. Yoongi gripped your waist tightly, not entirely used to having someone take the lead like this, but finding himself falling into the role easily, melting against you as you pressed closer, a shiver passing through him as your tongue slipped into his mouth.
“Hey hyung, I was jus- AGH MY EYES!”
You nearly fell backwards off Yoongi’s lap at Jimin’s scream from behind you, Yoongi’s hands catching you as you both whipped around to see the younger member standing in the doorway, staring at both of you in shock.
“Do you ever fucking knock?!” Yoongi snapped.
“I was-, I-.” Not knowing how to respond, Jimin simply backed out of the room, closing the door loudly behind him, leaving you and Yoongi alone again.
“Maybe we should do this somewhere else.” You said, face flushed in embarrassment.
“Why? Now they know not to come in.” Yoongi grinned, trying to tug you closer again, but you put a hand on his chest.
“Yoongi.” You complained.
“Okay, fine” He relented. “I guess I should buy you dinner first, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“You suck.” You laughed.
“Hey, you’re the one that likes me, it’s not my fault you have shit taste.” He teased, kissing you again lightly.
“Alright then, Mr. Gentleman, buy me dinner.” You grinned against his lips.
“Yes ma’am.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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neteyamsyawntu · 1 year
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My Little Tawtute
Neteyam x Curvy!Human Reader
✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.
Synopsis: Your relationship with Neteyam was unique to say the least. Nothing ever going farther then some light touches and some cuddling, but what happens when Neteyam decides to push the boundaries of your relationship during one of his visits to the lab?
LIGHTLY PROOF READ
Warnings:🔞MINORS DNI🔞 SMUTSMUTSMUTTYSMUT, P in V, fingering, mentions of creampie, thigh fucking, friends to lovers(if you squint hard enough), size kink, interspecies relationship, dirty talk, dom!neteyam, pet names. (Let me know if I missed anything)
Tawtute -> Human
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Today wasn’t necessarily the most busy day in the lab. You had gotten most of your research done by noon and for the most part you now found yourself just organizing things into virtual files, before moving your work to your room to start on your physical copies, being a very tedious note taker. You were half way through the pile when you were pulled out of your thoughts to heavy footsteps against the tile coming from down the hall. You look over to your open door just in time to see Neteyam crouch down as he carefully makes his way through the doorway, having learned the hard way from being excited one too many times and smacking his forehead against the frame. The realization of his carefulness coaxing a small chuckle from you. Neteyam’s ears perked at the sound, giving you a smirk in return, “You sound like you are in a good mood today.” He says as he closes the door behind him, moving to stand to his full height, only leaning down slightly from over your shoulder, observing the papers in front of you. “It’s been a pretty easy day, nothing too exciting. I’m just organizing all of this to keep myself busy at this point” You say with a content sigh, swiveling around in your desk chair to look up at the nearly 10ft tall na’vi. Neteyam gives a small nod, taking in your words as his smirk slowly spreads a tad wider, “And.. when do you think you will be done with your… organizing?”. You give a small shrug as you casually look over your stack of notes and your tabbed storage container, which was sorted by importance of category, “Mm… hopefully not too much longer- here let me set up your spot”. What had become Neteyam’s spot was simply just some extra pillows and blankets you had, that you arranged for him so that he wouldn’t have to sit on the cold tile floor for too long, which of course he showed no issue with, but still appreciated the gesture. Rising from your chair, you made your way over to the tall wardrobe on the farthest wall of the room, Neteyam’s eyes glued to the way your exposed thighs rubbed against each other as you walked, watching the slight jiggle that was created with each step. It was one of the things that drew you to him; despite your own insecurities about your body, Neteyam was fascinated with the curvature of your body, only really being accustomed to the lean, slender build of the na’vi. You were different in the best way possible.
Although his initial attraction to you started with your peaked interest and passion for learning about Pandora and the culture of his people, the more time he spent with you, the more he would catch himself staring at your body. Staring, slowly led to daydreaming, to fleeting touches, pushing the boundaries further and further to get close to you. The relationship between the two of you was unique for lack of a better term. The two of you were close, very close in fact. With na’vi being monogamous creatures by nature, as soon as Neteyam started to feel a more intimate attraction toward you, he silently made his claim on you, always making sure you were not left alone with other men for too long without him being present and even cuddling with you during your down time. Sometimes your cuddle sessions would turn somewhat heated, fueled by Neteyam’s wandering hands and his need to squeeze the thickness of your thighs, but none of it went farther than some suggestive touching and cautious kisses. Neteyam’s eyelids became heavier as he watched you set everything up on the floor, his tail swaying intriguingly behind him, “How's this?” You asked, kneeling on the floor as you adjusted some of the blankets. Neteyam slowly lowered his body onto the soft surface of the blankets and pillows, his face creeping closer and closer to yours as he stared straight through you with his large golden eyes, “Nearly perfect…” he hummed, before shifting to lay his head down on your lap, his eyes closing contently as he nuzzled gently against the plush of your thighs, “Mmm.. much better” he purred with a slight pull in his throat. You were used to his advances by now of course, yet they never failed to manifest butterflies in your stomach at his forwardness. 
“Neteyam, I still have work to do..” You state with a small pout. Neteyam’s ear merely flicks at your weak attempt at a protest, opening his eyes to gaze up at you with a playful glint in his eyes, “Just stay with me like this a moment… then you can go back to your ‘work’, I promise” his words almost have a sarcastic tone to them as he shifts his position to run his nose along the skin of your thigh. You sigh before giving a soft giggle, moving a hand to pet his head, “You’re just like a needy house cat, you know that?”. Neteyam scrunches his nose a bit at your comment, his tail shifting to tap against the pillows in a slight annoyance, “I do not appreciate being compared to your Earth creatures.”. It was so easy for you to tease him, which only made you want to do it more. You had shown him pictures on your laptop of certain animals native to your planet one day, whilst the two of you were exchanging information about your own respective planets, when you continued to point out some of his own feline features that reminded you of the small furry creatures, which prompted the same reaction of an unamused nose scrunch. Either way he continued to allow your soft caresses, humming as he shifts his body to lay on his side, facing your body. A deep blush begins to form on your cheeks as you watch him. How his nostrils twitch as he pokes your inner thigh with his nose, just below the hem of your shorts, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Neteyam what-”, “-You smell so good, tawtute… so sweet.. right here” he hums as shifts his head to brush his flat nose against the crotch of your shorts. You could feel your heartbeat begin to double at his words and actions, your body stiffening as he takes a deep inhale of your scent, pressing his nose against the zipper of your shorts.
You flinch at his assertiveness, watching him with wide eyes. This wasn’t necessarily out of character for him, but he was definitely pushing the boundary of your usual intimate touching. To have his face so close to your clothed cunt, blatantly smelling your arousal, it nearly made you feel light headed as tension started to build up between you. “Teyam… “ you whisper, gulping slightly as the air in the room almost seemed to become thicker, harder to breathe. Neteyam reluctantly lifted himself from your lap, nearly high off of your scent alone, desperate for another hit, his eyes heavy with lust, as he rose to his knees, “Turn around…” he ordered in a low almost strained voice, as if it was taking him every morsel in his body not to pin you beneath him and claim you as his. You shivered at his tone, giving a slight nod as you slowly rose to your feet, turning your back to him. Listening as Neteyam lets out a pleased hum, a soft gasp suddenly escapes your lips at the feeling his large hands taking hold of your hips, pulling you to press your back flush against his chest, his nose immediately finding its nesting spot in the crook of your neck, having another intake of your scent. Neteyam’s hands slowly creep down to the swell of your thighs, his fingers squeezing the fat there firmly as he releases a groan directly into your ear. “N-Neteyam… This.. this is a little.. Uh..” You are hardly able to put your thoughts into a cohesive sentence. Your brain was yelling at you to reject his advances, but your instincts and the tightening in your stomach as his nails lightly dig into the skin of your thighs, wanted nothing more than to melt under his touch. “Are you uncomfortable, yawne? Do you want me to stop?” he purrs into your ear, his lips grazing its shell, waiting for your consent before he continues, “N-no..I just… you’ve never held me like this before.” You breathe as your eyelids flutter at the thought of what could be going through Neteyam’s mind. The power he had over you felt intoxicating.
Neteyam lets out a soft chuckle, enjoying how nervous he’s making you feel, the heat of his breath on your ear, sends a shiver down your spine, “Do you trust me, tawtute?” he asks in a soft sultry tone. Giving him a slow nod, Neteyam responds by parting his lip to lick a thin stripe up the length of your ear, instantly sending another shiver down your spine, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as the action pulls a whimper from your throat, “Good…”. Neteyam begins to massage your thighs in slow circles, his fingers spreading out to encompass the width of your thighs, continuously squeezing the flesh there, his thumbs lightly caressing your exposed stretch marks periodically, releasing a deep groan into the side of your neck, as his eyes are glued to his repetitive movements, “So beautiful…”. A small whine escapes you at his words, your breath hitching as you feel something firm, pressing against the back of your thigh, while Neteyam shifts his right hand to allow his index finger to rub against the hem over your crotch, pressing firmly enough for you to feel friction between his finger and the fabric of your shorts. Your brows pinch at the sensation, head rolling back to rest against his shoulder as you release a staggered exhale.
A satisfied smile forms its way onto Neteyam’s lips as his eyes move to watch your pleasured expression, “Are you enjoying this, Y/N?” He asks, already knowing full-well the answer, as he examines your face, mouth agape and eyes closed tight as he adds more pressure to his long digit, dragging it across your clothed folds, too caught up in the feeling to answer him straight. “Answer me sweet girl…” his voice rumbles against your ear, his nose gliding down the side of your neck, “Haah… mmm- yes… feels.. really good.” you respond between shaky breaths, your mind beginning to spiral as his thumb drifts to push open the button of your shorts effortlessly. “Hmm that’s my good girl..” as the words leave his mouth, another swipe of his tongue finds its way down your jugular, toward your collarbone, the sensation tingling your sensitive skin enough for you to grip the forearm, of his hand that was working on shimmying your shorts down your thick thighs, as a reflex. As your mind finally becomes conscious of what Neteyam was trying to do, the sense of urgency fueled by your desire takes over, prompting you to move your hands to assist him in shoving your shorts down your thighs, pushing past the slight resistance of your thighs, kicking them away the moment they fall to the floor. “You seem eager, little one” Neteyam says with a soft chuckle as fingers hook themselves around the band of your panties pulling them down as well, tossing them to the side after you step out of them, before his hands work their way up your legs to reclaim their place back on your thighs. His right hand shifting to lightly lay over your mound. Your body shivers as the cold air brushes past your naked folds, breath hitching the moment Neteyam’s finger slides through the wetness that had built up at your entrance, collecting the wetness enough to bring his lubricated digit to your clit, rubbing slow repetitive circles against the bundle of nerves. Your back instantly arches at the sensation, your hand moving to cover your mouth, muffling your noises, to which Neteyam immediately removes your hand with his free one, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a firm kiss against it as he eyes you hungrily, “do not hide those pretty noises from me, sevin… let me hear you” Neteyam purrs a he begins to rub slightly firmer circles into your clit while simultaneously beginning to grind his throbbing erection against your leg.
“Ohh! Ahh- oh god..” Neteyam’s ears flick as your whiny moans fall from your lips, responding with his own low growl at the sound, “Yes… that’s it, yawne… s-so so pretty…”. You can hear his own voice begin to waver as he grinds his erecting firmly against your leg, his brows knitting together as the sensation starts to become too much for him to handle. His eyes land on the puddle of slick that had built up on his hand from massaging your folds, “Y/N… do you mind if we try something?” He asks in a slightly shaky voice, as he loops a hand behind his back to expertly untie his loincloth, allowing it to fall to the floor at his knees, his cock springing up, smacking lightly against your thigh. Your eyes widen at the feeling, unable to stop yourself as your curious hand reaches behind you to run your fingers along his shaft, earning a trembling hiss from Neteyam, “Y-yawne, wait.. you don’t have to do that… Oh…”. Looking over your shoulder at him, eyes now half lidded, watching as Neteyam leans his head against your shoulder while unsteady, heavy breaths leave his lips, as you wrap your small fingers around his cock, giving him slow yet firm strokes from base to tip. His shoulders rise and fall with a bit more urgency as his breathing becomes heavier, absolutely crumbling at the way you’re touching him. Biting his lip, Neteyam puts his hand over yours to halt your movements, pulling you off of him, “S-stop… you’re gonna make me cum like that… just- spread your legs a bit more.” He requests, letting go of your hand to place his own on the swell of your ass, his fingers hungrily digging into your cheeks, spreading them apart slightly, causing you to whine as you eagerly follow his orders. Neteyam places a hand at the base of his cock, steadying his breath as he brings you closer to him, pressing your hips flush against his front, guiding the length of his cock to slide right up against your sopping cunt, pulling pleasured sounds from both of you at the contact. “Good… n-now close your legs for me”, “W-wait, close them?” You ask, giving him a somewhat confused look. “Yes, tawtute.. close your legs for me… please”. You could tell he was becoming more and more desperate by the shaky plea that left his mouth. Complying with his wishes you close your legs as much as you can with his cock sitting between your thighs, Neteyam’s hands gripping your hips tightly as he holds back a strained groan, “J-just like that… perfect…”. Taking in deep breath Neteyam pushes his cock through your thighs, using your slick as lubrication, your eyes watching as his tip breaks free from the containment of your closed legs, a content sigh leaving his lips as Neteyam once again has to remind himself to keep his restraint, to not plunge himself straight into your tight, unprepped pussy. 
Your body began to tremble, feeling as a potent heat spreads through your core you could feel your cunt aching as Neteyam began to use your hips to slide you back and forth on his cock, using your thighs to fuck himself. His palms moving to pull your ass cheeks apart to watch the base of his cock disappear between your thighs over and over again, “Oh shit, yawne… haah.. you're doing so well for me.. Eywa, you’re so wet…”. A high pitched whine rips from your throat as his thick shaft glides effortlessly over your folds and clit, coaxing out small squelching noises from the push and pull of his movements, your hips occasionally jerking at the sensation of his cockhead hitting your clit a certain way. “Ahh.. Teyam I- I can’t..”, Neteyam immediately stops his motions at your words, thinking he may have done something wrong, or that you weren’t completely as comfortable with this as you had led on. Leaning in close to your face, Neteyam nuzzles against your cheek in attempts to comfort you, his cock continuing to throb and twitch at the loss of friction, “What is it, tiyawn?” He asks a little out of breath, as he tries to reel back his mind to focus on you and your needs. “I… I need more.. please, Teyam.” You beg in soft whimpers, as your hand reaches down to caress the tip of his cock that was poking out from between your thighs, causing his hips to jerk slightly at the sudden touch. Neteyam stares down at you with wide eyes at your boldness before his lips twitch into a smirk, releasing a low chuckle from his chest, “Oh my little needy tawtute… you have no idea how hard it is for me not to pin you down and have my way with you.” He purrs against your cheek, before shifting his head to place a firm kiss on your temple, “But I would hurt you. Your small little body is not made to take such.. large intrusions”.
You pout letting loose another needy whimper as you lean forward enough to shift your hips to align his tip with your rubbed out pussy lips, “I can take it.. I promise… or I at least want to try- please Neteyam… I need you” you whine desperately as you begin to stir your hips against his cockhead, already feeling how it would take him a good amount of effort to even force himself inside of you, as his tip barely passed through your lips. Neteyam takes in a sharp inhale at your actions, gritting his teeth as his hold on your hips becomes nearly bruising as he fights against his own internal conflicts, “Y/N this is dangerous.. I’m serious, you could really get hurt”. You groan at his protests, knowing that he was right, but he had already given you this much, let you feel him, touch him, and your body only craved more. Your pussy throbs in anticipation as you take matters into your own hands, attempting to push yourself down on to him, “Fuck it! I don’t care, hurt me then. Neteyam please I can’t take it anymore.” Before you can even process what is happening, your head is pinned to the blankets below you, ass in the air as Neteyam continues to hold you by the back of the neck, keeping you in place. Looking over your shoulder you can see the dark look in his eye, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as he indulges in his own primal instincts for a moment. Leaning over your backside, Neteyam drags his tongue up your spine, pushing your shirt up as he goes, until he reaches the center of your shoulder blades. With one hand Neteyam maneuvers your shirt to bind your wrists with it, rolling the excess fabric into a small knot. His voice is a low growl in your ear, “If you want it that badly, then be a good girl and let me properly prepare you.” Releasing his hold on your wrists after ensuring that your wadded up shirt would do the job, Neteyam snakes his hand behind your rear, moving down toward your exposed glistening cunt, giving it a rough slap, not enough to hurt, but to at the very least stimulate your aching hole, enough to cause you to cry out, “You said you wanted to be hurt, isn’t that right, tawtute? Hah.. such a naughty little thing..” he coos to you teasingly as he rubs the flesh of your ass, before directly inserting his middle finger down to the last knuckle into your throbbing core. Your breath is caught in your throat at the unexpected entry, thinking he would have maybe given you some sort of warning, only finally finding your voice as he begins to pump the digit inside of you, letting out a breathy moan in partial relief from the aching in your deprived walls. 
“Is this what you wanted? Begging for my cock and now you can’t even speak, all because of my finger. Go ahead, beg for more, little one… beg me to stretch you out properly” he orders you in a deep growl, as his fangs graze the flesh of your shoulder. Without any hesitation, you eagerly answer to his call, “M-more! Please, Teyam put another finger in… ohh it feels so good…”. With a sly smirk Neteyam shifts his hand back, watching your expression closely as he forces his last two fingers into your hole. Your brows pinch together at the sudden stretch, mouth falling agape as you find your voice temporarily missing again, before releasing a strained mewl. Neteyam placed a kiss on your shoulder, choosing to be a bit more patient with you, soothing your discomfort, considering the drastic adjustments your body was having to make, before slowly moving his digits in and out of you, massaging the gummy part of your walls. Continuing to release a stream of shallow breaths and moans, you find yourself fisting the blankets beneath you as Neteyam’s fingers masterfully find your g-spot, watching how your body squirms every time he hits it. “O-oh god.. Tey- Teyam I’m close!” You warn, feeling your legs start to tremble, your knees struggling to stay upright in your current position, “That’s it… cum for me, my little tawtute. Cum on my fingers.”, his words ring in your ear like an undeniable command, almost as if your body was hardwired to appease his wants, prompting your body to immediately obey his orders, as you feel your core tighten more and more before you burst, screaming out in ecstasy. The tightness of your cunt practically pushing his fingers out of you, leaving a thick string of slick connecting his fingers to your throbbing cunt. You nuzzle your face into the blankets as you come down from your high, desperately trying to regain control of your breathing, you turn your face to look over your shoulder, just in time to catch Neteyam’s predatory gaze as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking and sucking your juices tentatively, his tail swaying possessively behind him, “How is it that you taste this good?… Sweet.. yet tangy like an utumauti… or I think you humans call it banana fruit.”. You throw a half hearted, exhausted laugh his way as you slowly move to  sit up, your mind fogging as you assumed this was the end of your intimate session, that was until his large palm presses into the middle of your back, pushing you back down, forcing you to arch your back for him, ripping a surprised yelp from your weak form, “You’ve been such a good girl, yawne… I think it’s time I give you what you’ve been begging for.” Neteyam hums, rubbing his shaft along your dripping folds, biting his bottom lip as he collects your remaining cum on his shaft, his ears flicking when his actions are rewarded with the sound of your breathy sighs, “Unless of course you have changed your mind?” He teases you, pressing his tip firmly against your entrance, restraining enough to wait for your green light to insert himself into you.
“Tey, stop teasing me and give it to me already!” you pout, pushing your ass to meet his advances, nearly causing his tip to slip inside of you, earning a shaky moan from the na’vi male behind you, slowly turning into a rough chuckle, “I don’t think I've ever met anyone so desperate to be torn apart. Very well, tiyawn… relax for me” he coos, leaning into your ear, placing a gentle kiss on it’s shell before leaning back, firmly placing his hands on your hips, holding you in place and then you feel it, his cockhead forcing its way into your cunt, assisted by your preexisting lubricant. The stretch was unlike anything you had felt before, making his fingers seem feeble in comparison, yet feeling as Neteyam pushed himself further and further through your walls, you knew that without having taken his fingers first, you would have certainly been torn apart. Your back arched further as the weight of his pelvis caused your knees to spread further apart, gasping as the action drove him deeper inside of you,“I-It hurts, Tey…”, “You’re doing great, yawne… just a bit more..”. His tone is soft and affectionate, in his best attempts to comfort you. No matter how much he teased you, it did cause him pain to see you in such discomfort, nearly on the verge of tears as you lay your head flat on the floor in defeat, allowing your body to fully relax as you accept your fate. Just as Neteyam had promised you, with a few more pushes into your tight walls, his cock had finally reached as far as it could go, his tip nestled against your cervix, releasing a heavy exhale into the crook of your neck, as he tried to keep his composure despite how hungrily your pussy clenched around him, “Oh Eywa… you feel incredible, yawne.” He mutters in a barely audible whisper as he nuzzles into your hair, taking in your scent to calm his nerves, his hands falling from your hips to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your rear flush against his pelvis, his tail curling at the sensation of being so deep inside of you. His eyes trail over you as your expression finally seems to relax, carefully resting his forehead against your temple, placing a kiss on your cheekbone.
“I am going to start moving now… ok?” He coos into your ear, placing another kiss on the top of your head after you nod in approval. Steadying himself with a final breath, Neteyam slowly begins to roll his hips into you. “Mmmn…Oh my… ohh!”, you moan out as your heart is beating at a thousand miles a minute, the pain slowly melts into pure arousal. The feeling of the stretch was still there of course, yet oddly the discomfort in itself became satisfying. Gripping the shirt that still bound your hands, you began to rock your hips back to meet Neteyam’s thrusts, taking him off guard for a moment at your sudden eagerness, nevertheless it fuels his desire to want to pound into you that much more, “Look at you taking me so well…so deep.. and so tight” he purrs low into the back of your neck between moans, his breaths becoming slightly heavier as his hips begin to move a bit more passionately, nuzzling into your hair once more as his own desires grow more intense, “You’re so tiny…oh you sky person…” Neteyam whispers breathily into your neck, chuckling softly at the pathetic whine you let out in protest of this specific pet name, only encouraging him to buck his harder into you, admiring how his movements cause your tongue to fall past your lips as your mouth hangs open to allow string after string of moans and whimpers to emerge. The small room filling with noises of ecstasy as well as the sound of skin slapping against one another as Neteyam steadily loses his composure, rutting into you with intense love and carnal desire.
Moaning out at the feeling of a sudden tug at the base of your skull, Neteyam uses your hair to pull your head backward, forcing you to stare at the ceiling while his mouth hungrily attaches itself to your neck, leaving dark marks all along its surface, leaving his claim on you, so that everyone- sky person and na’vi alike would know who you belong to. The familiar tightness builds up in your core again, as the mix of sensations work together to send you into overdrive. Neteyam can feel it too. The way your cunt is clenching and unclenching more rapidly around him, he knows you are getting close. His arm that his still wrapped around your middle moves to descend his hand down between your thighs, rubbing at your overstimulated clit, immediately causing your entire body to tremble once again, albeit more aggressively than before as your orgasm ripped through your body before you even had a chance to give a proper warning. Neteyam’s ears perking to full assertiveness, basking in the pleasured sounds of your climax, eyes nearly rolling in the back of his head as he uses them to chase his own release, “Oh.. yawne.. yawne, ah- I’m cumming…” he warns, panting heavily as he feels his cock attempt to twitch within the confines of your tight cunt, before he releases his load inside of you. Pulling out slowly after taking a moment to catch his breath, Neteyam lays down beside you, pulling you into his strong embrace, as he gently runs his finger tips up and down your back as you come down from your high. Your own fingers caressing his chest in a slow kneading motion as your eyelids grow heavier and heavier. The room was quiet, only the sounds of your soft panting and sighs filled the space. Neteyam holds you closer to him as his hand lifts from your back to gently caress your cheek, his hand nearly twice the size of your head in comparison, “My little tawtute… so beautiful.. mine…” he mumbles into your hairline, pressing a gentle yet firm kiss on your forehead. The sound of his soft whispers and his strong yet calm heartbeat lulling you to sleep in his arms. 
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I'm so proud of myself for getting this fic out when I said I would. Well kind of, I'm technically a day late, but shh. I didn't wait till after I woke up the next day, so it still counts. TIME IS A SOCIAL CONSTRUCT AND I SHALL NOT BEND TO ITS WHIM. N E WAYS I hope you guys enjoyed this! It was honestly super fun to write and god, something about human x na'vi pairings just do something to me.
If you'd like to be added to my tag list to updated on stories and major posts, go comment on my Welcome To My Blog post.
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Tag-list:
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@live-laugh-neteyam
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ventique18 · 11 days
Text
~ Thoughtless ~
Somehow you feel it. Maybe you're just letting things get to your head, but maybe. Just maybe.
Malleus is in love with you.
How can you not think that, when he comes by to see you almost everyday, or when he sometimes finds himself thoughtlessly tucking a stray hair away from your face. When his hands would naturally find their way to rest on your hip while you're busy baking something, and he would curiously watch from behind?
So when he carelessly lays his head on your lap one lazy afternoon, you find yourself blurting out "I think I'm in love with you." Just as naturally as is his intimacy is towards you.
He doesn't speak. Doesn't even laugh. He just thoughtlessly pulls you down and, clumsy and mismatched as they are, lets your lips wordlessly do the talking.
You're over the moon. How could you not be, when a person you thought was beyond your reach is hopelessly in love with you just as you are with him? You'll be spending your time as a couple from now on. Going on romantic dates together, greeting each other first thing in the morning, getting to know each other in a much, much more familiar depth. Maybe even considering... marriage.
There's an infinite things that you want to do with him. So many things that make you happy. You're happy.
... Until...
"I wonder what bouquet my betrothed prefers for our coming wedding?"
You overhear him as he strolls with Lilia.
Betrothed? As in, someone you promised to marry? He did say wedding.
What the hell.
He's already engaged to someone? And he still kissed you so passionately like that? All along, he was already meant to marry somebody else while he's fooling around touching you here and there, kissing you and pecking you and hugging you and... Is that why he didn't say he loved you when you confessed? He's just leading you on because he's bored?
That son of a--
Tears. Ugly tears. You scream furiously and cry miserably as you strangle and punt and wrangle your poor pillow at Ramshackle. Your best friends watch silently while they try to coax you with your favorite food and your favorite zero-substance comedy film. It works. Your mood lightens.
Until they go home, and he barges into your home with grin you wanted to sucker-punch off his ugly, cheating, demonic, monstrosity of a lying face.
"Why are you here?" You spit out.
His thick, slimy skin couldn't taste the venom in your words.
"Good evening," he giddily greets as he walks over to you-- almost prancing for god's sake, "I was wondering. What type of flowers do you like?"
"The hell are you on about? You think you can keep stringing me around? I'll fuck you up."
"Careful. I am exercising a deep self-restraint out of respect for you. But if you keep playing with me like this, telling jokes about 'fucking me'-- as people say nowadays-- I might truly end up debauching the sanctity of marriage."
You leer at him. What the hell is he yapping about?
"Fuck?"
He sits on the sofa beside you; as graceful as he always seems to be. No, actually. He sits as ugly as a bridge troll. "I see you are impatient. Truth be told, I am too. But we best wait until after graduation, at least. So before then, I would like to ask: what flowers would you prefer for our wedding? I rather wish to grow them myself."
"Our wed--"
And it clicks in your head.
'My betrothed.'
'What flowers would you like?'
'Our wedding.'
It's you. The betrothed is you.
You almost laugh out loud. Out of the silliness of it all, out of embarrassment perhaps, even out of relief. This guy. God, this guy. What a careless, thoughtless, whimsical, nonsensical, brainless guy. But somehow,
"I like wisteria."
It's just, so naturally, him.
"The flowers in full bloom when we first met."
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writingoddess1125 · 7 months
Text
Carbon Copy
Mihawk x FemReader + OOC Alucare
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Old Men Series <- Click to read more
It had been far too long out at sea, especially with the growing irritation of Mihawk and Alucare- Maybe It was their personalities being too similar or the fact they were training daily but had to be careful. However it looked like two monsters about to Duke it out any day- You sitting there trying to keep the peace.
But finally the 3 {almost 4} Of you made it to the Grand Line and Kuraigana Island- You didn't know what to expect... but it sure wasn't nightmarish hellscape with a dark castle!?
Alucare and You standing there on the docked ship staring up at the Gloomy place- Your son slowly turning to look at his father.
"Are you some vampire we don't know about?-"
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Mihawk sighed at this and gave a half glare to Alucare.
"No... it is ruins of the Muggy Kingdom that I have converted into my home" The two Dracule men glared at each other and you knew then.. this wasn't going to be as positive as you hoped.
It had been some weeks since arriving at Mihawks home and you had hoped the tension would disperse between Mihawk and Alucare.. but it honestly just got worse somehow? Maybe it was a father son thing but it seemed now both were fighting over everything- Food, Books, and even for your attention.
"I am warning you now Alucare- If you continue your attitude I will take something of value to you" Mihawk said with a narrowed gaze- The teenager cocking his head to the side in almost amusement.
However most recent was Perona, The young women taking a liking to Alucare who was the younger version of Mihawk in her eyes- While she was still too old for him, That didn't keep Alucare from flirting and trying. Much to Mihawks ire...
The older male taking Alucare out to training one day- Glaring at his spawn.
"Alucare- I do not appreciate you trying to flirt with my pupil... Not only is she too old for you, I know you're doing this to irritate me" Mihawk spoke calmly, Alucare giving a emotionless stare.
"Whatever do you mean?" He said calmly, Mihawk taking a breath.
"Oh? What like taking me away from the place I was raised? my mother? Throwing me across an island?" Alucare said with some venom in his tone. Mihawk taking a breath through his nose to calm himself.
"You son of a bitch!!!" You heard Alucare shout from his room, Mihawk smirking slightly as he sipped his coffee. You heard Alucare rapid footsteps march right to the kitchen area and you gasped at the sight- Alucare long hair had been cut- While before his hair was down to his waist it was just past his shoulders and fairly evenly cut, The shortness making the thick hair spike more and it reminding you of Mihawks more natural hair.
"Alucare- I am being serious. Stop it with Perona and stop testing me.." He demanded, Alucare giving a smirk at the man.
"Or what?" He said calmly, Mihawk feeling something snap inside of him.
"..." The older man just nodded and ended the training then and there- The rest of the night being oddly quiet between the two..
By Mornibg you had started breakfast and was talking to Mihawk when you heard it-
"Mihawk you didnt-?!" You start, Glaring at the male who continued to sip his coffee.
"Hm?- I warned him... if he kept up the disrespect I'd take something precious of his as punishment-"
"SO YOU CHOSE MY HAIR!? YOU CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER!" Alucare yelled in pure rage, Mihawk smiled at his choice of wording and winked.
"Yes that is a fair insult- I am a Mother Fucker" He said calmly setting down his teacup and picking up his newspaper to read. You groaning in your hands in both embrassment and irritation at your partner. Alucare was red in the face from anger and marched outside angrily and slamming the doors behind him- He was most likely going to train somewhere far away from the island.
"Must you antagize him Hawks?.. that was way to famn far and you know it-" You start now mad and standing up from the dinning room table.
"No- I'm giving him something he needs and something I didn't have-" Mihawk said calmly, this making you huff in frustration.
"Oh and what is that?!" You place your hands on your hips, feeling that the hormones were working you up and ready to bite Mihawks head off.
"The opportunity to be a teenager-" And just like that he took the wind from your sails... confusion being written on your face at his words.
"You said it yourself.. Alucare acts just like me- From the stoic attitude to hiding one's emotions... He has matured far too early for his age to protect you- But taking away his need to be strong for you, it's allowing him to express bottled up emotions and act as he should for a 16 year old.. Is he angry? Yes. Is he being dramatic? Absolutely. However it's better for him to express these in a environment that can handle it and then be taught how to work through them.... then to never feel them at all again-" Mihawk said truthfully and with a twinge of regret in his voice. Your heart Sinking as the realization of this all hit you...
Mihawk was wanting to let Alucare experience teenage emotions since he was never able to and help him grow as a person.. Mihawk didn't want his son to be like him- But better then him..
Sitting down you felt your eyes water.
You didn't see Alucare that night- or the next night. While you were shaken with worry Mihawk had insisted that Alucare was fine and he had checked in him from time to time- simply camping out on the north side of the island.
By the second night you went to the study and saw Mibawk drinking his normal wine, Seeing what looked to be a cheese and fruit board prepared as well.
"Ah (Y/N) thank you for the wine and snacks" Mihawk said calmly, finishing off the last cracker and cheese. You didn't remeber setting them out yet- But you usually did so it wasn't a huge surprise especially if you forgot.
"Hm I guess I forgot I did that- But no problem honey" You kiss his cheek and he smiled up at you touching your rounded stomach.
"It's normal- What did you call it? 'Pregnancy Brain?'" You nodded and smiled quite pleased he'd remembered. After some brief conversation Mihawk yawned and tried to shake the sleep away- He looked more tired then usual, Rubbing his eyes as he finishes his final glass of wine.
"Hm.. I'm exhausted" He mumbled, you watching as he seemed a bit uneasy on his feet when standing. You assumed he had drunk too much so it wasn't surprising, so the two of you walked back to the bedroom and he fell asleep quickly and soundly that night, you following suit soon after.
Unknown to both of you a pair of yellow eyes was watching the whole time-
The next morning you were the first one up, deciding Mihawk could sleep in and headed downstairs. Much to your surprise to see Alucare- bathed and dressed with his hair in a short low ponytail. Cooking a nice and large breakfast.
"Sweetie you're back!" You said cheerfully and kissed your sons cheeks. He smiled softly, finishing cooking.
"Couldn't miss the show" He said almost cheerfully, you raising a questioning eyebrow at this as you made a plate for yourself.
Perona was the next down, Chatting mindlessly with Alucare and even saying his hair didn't look bad either. Which he clearly appreciated but you could tell his mind was elsewhere- Soon the heavy footsteps of Mihawk approaching alerted all of you.
"Morning-" You heard Mihawk start as he stepped in the kitchen and it was like someone threw bricks at you all..
Perona choked on her eggs suddently and started to cough hard as she turned away. Your jaw dropped as a surprised shriekd left you- damn near dropped your plate as well, Alucare sitting there with a smirk on his face as he ate another bite of his breakfast calmly.
"M-Mihawk.. Honey" You start, The tired man looking at you confused at your reactions.
"Are you okay? Is something wrong?... I do apologize you had to make breakfast- I feel drowsy for some reason.." Mihawk admitted as he rubbed his temple to try and ease the drowsiness away.
"I'll be out training..." Alucare said calmly as he stood up and left the kitchen quickly. Perona now starting to laugh which confused Mihawk more-
"Your face... oh my God your face" You manage out and cover your mouth- Unsure if you should laugh or cry first.
"My what?-" Mihawk said quickly and went to the closest mirror which was in the hallway and stared at himself. There he saw it- half his facial hair had been shaved off paired with an eyebrow and some very nice pen work which had 'Dickhead' on his forehead with a detailed cock on his cheek.
It then clicked- The wine and snacks... The little fucker must have drugged him and did this to him while he slept-
"..."
You closed your eyes and sighed, practically feeling Mihawks anger from the hallway and you prayed your son would survive whatever was about to happen- Especially when Mihawks voice boomed across the castle and island.
"ALUCARE!!"
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mandosaur · 7 months
Text
This Little Slice of Life (Mike Schmidt x Reader)
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Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's Film
Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader
Word Count: 1,025
Estimated Reading Time: 3:43
Summary:
A tiny little drabble that takes place before the film's events.
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When you imagined what your life was going to be like as an adult, you didn’t imagine this.
In your dreams, you saw yourself as a world famous pop star. You imagined yourself in sequin dresses that would cost a fortune standing before a stage of wild fans all screaming your name. You saw yourself on every magazine cover, touring every country, and attending the Met Gala. Paparazzi would flash your photos in your day dreams all while you rode in a limo spending thousands on any little thing that caught your fancy. You had always imagined a life of luxury and wealth for yourself as an adult.
You never imagined your current life.
You never imagined that you’d be in your mid twenties still living in the same street you grew up in. Never imagined that the fancy little college degree you got to appease your parents would bring you nothing but student loans that kept piling on. You didn’t think you’d be working some dead end job for minimum wage at a company with a shitty boss and worse hours just barely scraping by.
However, despite the huge deviation from what your childhood dreams believed would be a good future for you, you find you can’t be happier.
There’s something warm and familiar in the way your life works. Like a puzzle piece clicking together, everything just seems to work. Your life isn’t glamorous or extravagant the way your elementary school dreams all mapped out, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Hell, you wouldn’t trade Mike or Abby for the world either.
Mike and Abby were perhaps the greatest riches you had. Mike had been your childhood best friend. You’d met him in the first day of Pre-K. A little boy holding a metal, superhero lunch box while his mom and dad kissed him goodbye. You’d befriended him on the playground of that first day and formed a friendship that had lasted all your lives.
You’d known him forever. Been there for him when Garrett had been taken, when his parents had died, and when he’d become Abby’s guardian. You’d always been there at his side.
First as a friend, then as a lover.
When you both turned 16, you had started dating. A simple choice between you both. By then, you’d both loved each other and had been pining for years. It was only natural for the two of you to start dating. Both of your parents encouraged the shift and the two of you were very happy.
10 years later, and the two of you had been together for a long time. You’d moved into the little home he shared with Abby. You shared his bedroom and was there to take care of Abby when Max couldn’t. Abby too was a joy in your life.
She had been born when you two were older and you and Mike had become her guardians. Abby really only knew the two of you. She doted on Mike, treasured him deeply if her drawings with him center stage were anything to go by, but she adored you too. She talked to you more than other kids her age, liked you staying home with her when your work allowed it, and drew you in some of her drawings holding hands with her and Mike.
She was a little gift in the life you had just like Mike. You loved them both deeply to the point where nothing else mattered.
To you, it didn’t matter that both you and Mike didn’t have money. Between your student loans and both your minimum wage paychecks, you two weren’t raking in much. Neither of you could boast being wealthy, hell, sometimes you couldn’t even boast being comfortable either.
But that didn’t matter.
Every day that you woke up to that poster of Nebraska on the ceiling and Mike next to you, every day that you got home to Max and Abby in the kitchen table working on homework, and every day that you were able to kiss Mike when he got home from work from the mall covered in fast food stains and all, none of it mattered. Not the debt, not the hardships, and not the struggles.
This little slice of life you’d built with Mike and Abby were paradise. Even if Mike’s aunt threatened custody every once in a while, even if Mike sometimes came home flushed and upset with a new termination notice in hand from his current job, and even if Abby sometimes preferred to talk to her imaginary friends than join you and Mike for dinner. Despite it all, this little home the three of you shared was your personal heaven.
And when Mike came home one day and suggested the two of you marry after talking to Abby, your little paradise increased.
Your wedding wouldn’t be anything that would elicit chatter among your friends. At most, you two would just wear your nicest clothes in your closet and walk down to the court house with cheap rings from Amazon. At most, your honeymoon would be a day where Max took Abby to her house and you and Mike ordered some take out from that Italian place in the mall that was about as fancy as any other fast food place. At most, you’d probably have one weekend to celebrate being married before Mike went to work at the mall and you back to your shitty job.
But it didn’t matter.
You loved Mike and Abby enough to the point where all of that sounded like a luxury. It might not have been the fancy delusions child you had about your future, but it was home. Mike and Abby had always been your home and any moment spent with them was better than whatever money could buy.
So, smiling, you had accepted Mike’s proposal and enveloped him and Abby in a tight hug. Had laughed when you felt Mike’s grin against your cheek and heard Abby’s little giggle against your arms.
Your life might not have been much to someone else, but to you it was paradise. A treasure nothing could ever replace.
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starvity · 7 months
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— ☆ zb1 reacting to you being a shy and quiet person
gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)
genre: fluff, drabble // warnings: cursing, a hint of social anxiety, everyone is so nervous and blushy
author’s note: as a power I(NFP) i was very thankful to receive this request just to spend hours daydreaming about considerate jebewon i cry </3 (★ω★)/ [requested♡]
ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong
works a lot with body language. you guys can communicate with your eyes without having to say anything. even when you first met, jiwoong would start the talking until he suddenly stops, scared that he might be talking about himself too much. you encourage him to keep going, stating that you like listening to people since you're not a big talker. he finds your shyness endearing and he would look at you with already so much love in his eyes. when you guys start dating, he would always stay considerate and attentive, like when you two first met. when you and jiwoong go to a party and you already feel the need to go home, you would slightly fumble with his fingers and he would immediately get the hint. "we're leaving first guys, thanks for the invitation." jiwoong states, leaving the boys confused and you panicked. "babe we arrived 25 minutes ago, we can't just leave now!" you whisper-shout and yelp as he throws you over his shoulder, walking to his car.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao
as one of the only introverts, you guys would definitely get each other a lot. though he doesn't act like one sometimes, he will need to get some quietness and calm after a long social interaction. matthew, your best friend, had introduced you to the rest of the friend group and hao and you immediately clicked. whenever you came over to their dorm, hao and you would immediately go to his room to have "some peace and quiet" (the others keep complaining about how you two laugh way too loud). you would be sprawled out on hao’s bed, legs tangled together and your head comfortably resting on his shoulder, having one of your weekly movie marathon. "just date already" matthew chuckles as he leaves the room, leaving a blushing hao and you behind him.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin
hanbin will naturally take the leading role when he notices you're on the shy and quiet side. will always reassure you that you don't have to change anything for him and that he can be the one speaking and you can be listening. even though hanbin is very outgoing and extroverted, he will never get enough of your calming presence whenever he comes home from hanging out with a lot of people. if you have trouble ordering a drink or food, he would always make sure to do it for you. and if you tell him you've done something out of your comfort zone he would literally shower you with compliments. "i have to do a presentation for my next class, i hate speaking in front of people." you mumble, laying on your stomach with your head buried in your pillow. your boyfriend hanbin, lying next to you, rolls over and throws an arm around you, settling his face on your shoulder. "you're going to do great, i'll help you revise" he whispers in your ear reassuringly and plants a small kiss on the crown of your head.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew
it was your best friend’s birthday party and they had invited a few friends from high school over. you were sipping on your drink, quietly watching a small group play some board games while some others are loudly doing a karaoke on the tv. matthew, who was sitting in front of you, notices your quietness and comes sit next to you. "do you perhaps want to go grab a drink in the kitchen with me?" he suggests shyly, hoping that you don't find him too pushy or weird. you nod with a smile and follow him to the kitchen, when you start having a casual conversation. matthew asks if you’re enjoying yourself in a careful manner, unsure if you would take it the wrong way since it was the first time you two met. you calmly explain that you’re just a bit introverted and reserved but you thank him for noticing your presence. embarrassed, his ears turn red. he thinks he might like you.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae
you and taerae make the perfect balance. feisty gremlin and cinnamon roll. the members are always so thankful when you come over because you're basically the only one who can manage him and his anger issues. and taerae is secretly very thankful too, you're like his little bubble of fresh air. he'll feel bad if he's talking with his friends (or most of the time just yelling at them) or singing loudly and he notices that you're sitting by yourself quietly. even when you repeat that you're just a little shy and quiet and that you like watching him have fun from a distance, he will be stuck to your arm. he will definitely try to find a way to spend some calmer moments with you, like having you tell him about your day while he plays guitar and hums softly. "and OBVIOUSLY when we started to talk shit about him, he arrived" taerae gasps as he immediately stops strumming his guitar. "wait so did he hear you? love, you never get the timing right" he laughs loudly, taking both of your hands in his, worriedly.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky
finds your quietness attractive. when he first saw you, he thought you were trying to be mysterious (your social battery was just too low for you to speak to anyone) and he was immediately drawn in by your aura. whenever you guys are in any social setting, he would flirt with you, whispering in your ear how expensive and classy you look in that moment and you're like i just want to go home, ricky... thinks you look so cute getting shy when someone asks you a question and he notices how you start playing with his rings. you haven't spoken since you sat down until you hear something that sparks your interest and you just have to speak up "that reminds me of the time when ricky..." he wouldn't be able to hide his burning cheeks and ears when he realized that every little conversation you would have were always about him.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin
gyuvin as the outgoing funny loser who had to sit next to you, the shy and quiet student. he found you very cute and wanted to quickly get to know about you. he would probably say some really clumsy stuff at first like "are you always quiet like that? is it not hard to not talk at all? i can't imagine having to keep quiet for even 5 minutes that would make me lose my mind..." and to that you respond "well! why don't you try shutting up for once?" he is shocked by your bold comment, then he quickly starts giggling as a pinkish color paints his cheeks. later during the lesson, you feel something poke your forearm. you put your pencil down and turn your head to see a small piece of paper folded between gyuvin's fingers. he looks down at you with round eyes, a small grin on his face. you give up listening to the teacher because passing notes with your seatmate is much less boring. the excitement that comes before slowly unfolding the papers make both of your hearts flutter.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook
i am once again a firm believer of cold-looking but actually softie and very considerate gunwook... bonus point because he's only a softie for you. "actually y/n thinks... y/n would love that... y/n will take..." doesn't matter if you're with him or not, gunwook will always talk for you or about you. he wants you to feel included and he wants you to want him. he enjoys spending some moments with just the two of you. he will feel very special if he notices you start talking more when you're with him only because that means you feel safe around him and omg his heart can't take it!! it doesn't always happen though, sometimes you just like to just stay in silence with him but it's always a very comfortable quietness. in those moments, it would feel best to just play a random movie to watch while cuddling. your head rests on his shoulder, almost buried in the crook of his neck while his thumb slowly strokes the back of your hand and you just feel so at ease and sleepy...zzz
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin
number #1 of the introverts. yujin would love being in your company because you just get him you know? he would get so annoyed when he announces that he needs some quietness just to have gyuvin follow him and ask him to play computer games with him. yujin's favorite moment of the day is when he gets to walk home with you, sharing earbuds while walking with your pinkies interlocked. the only times you would feel the need to speak is to say that you like the song playing. you could easily count how many words you've said during the entire evening if you wanted to, considering how quiet you two like to be, even when you're together. you would frequently scare the boys when you come out of yujin's room because they didn't even know you were at their house and you had to explain them you two were just taking you third nap of the day.
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leeknowlover99 · 4 months
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Skz as love tropes
found it in my drafts ;)
warnings: fluff, suggestive content
masterlist
Bang Chan - coworkers to lovers
you and Chan spent way too much time in a studio. working late nights, eating takeaway pizza, testing new ideas, leaving in the mornings when sun was already high up in the sky. you spent countless nights falling asleep on couch in small studio room. ever since you started working together something between you clicked, you understood and inspired each other. two lost souls trying to find peace in music, stressed overachievers trying to create something perfect. it should not come as a surprise that one day when nothing was working as it should in a heat of the moment you shared the most hungry passionate kiss you could imagine, changing your dynamic forever.
Lee Know/ Minho - neighbors to lovers
your relationship grew slowly. from passing each other on the corridor to saying shy hellos in the elevator to meeting in the coffee shop near by to taking care of his cat when he was on a business trip to going on long walks and talking about life together. Minho with tough and unreadable exterior turned into the softest person you knew. his kindness amazed you with each day. in a span of months from the total stranger he became your comfort person. the change in your relationship seemed so natural. you didn’t even realize when it turned from shy glances to getting railed in his sheets.
Changbin - exes to lovers
you tried to stay away from each other, you really did. it was not working out between you, work forced you to be separated more time than you would like. character differences caused loud arguments. but without each other you were even more doomed. stress piling up in your bodies, minds clouded with too many thoughts, sleepless nights when you missed each other way too much. so when one day you bumped into Changbin in a party next thing you knew you were pressed against him in someones bedroom, hungrily trying to make up for all the lost time. him whispering “i’m not gonna let you go ever again” against your lips.
Hyunjin - soulmates
nobody could replace Hyunjin. nobody could come even close. you have never met someone as passionate, gentle and unreal as him. the way you completed each other could only be described by word soulmates. you understood each other without any words, always knew what the other one needed, could sense emotions like you lived inside each others heads. one look at you two and everybody could see that. your eyes beamed with love when you were together, face glowed. lips curled into most gorgeous smiles. you just had that effect on each other.
Felix - fake dating
it started as an innocent lie but became so much more. the arrangement worked for both of you so you kept going with it. as time passed it was becoming more and more challenging to create that narrative. but neither of you wanted to end it. so you started going on dates, hanging out with your families, posting each other on social media, sleeping in the same bed. the line between the lie and reality was becoming blurry until one day of just vanished. you were no longer pretending, you were no longer keeping the act only when people were around. you were kissing in the loneliness of Felix’s room and although none of you said it you both knew that it became something more.
Han/ Jisung - fwb to lovers
Jisung was never the best when it came to any kind of relationships. one drunk night out with his pretty best friend and all he could think about is your perfect body and those plump lips. he needed you. you seemed to have the same idea. you also seemed to have the same problem with relationships. so after that one night neither of you talked about this. you just silently communicated when you needed each other. expressed your desires and feeling through gentle touches and passionate kisses. way too intimate for only friends. it took a long time for both of you to understand and admit that. but when you did you were two happiest people on this planet.
Seungmin - rivals to lovers
it was always the competition between you two. Y/N vs Kim Seungmin. you were both good, way better than everyone else. but neither of you liked sharing the spotlight. so you constantly tried to either beat the other one or mess with them. after all only one person could get the dreamt internship. this week has been particularly intense, electricity basically sparkling in the air when you were both in the same room. you needed to relax during weekend, that’s how you ended up at Chan’s party already drunk. what you did not expect was to find Seungmin here as well. the look he send your way when he saw you in the flimsy black dress made you weak. from that look only you knew the only competition you will be having tonight is who cums first.
Jeongin - childhood best friends to lovers
stolen glances, shy smiles, late night talks. you and your childhood best friend Jeongin were always more. but you were both too timid and unsure to act on it, so you loved each other in silence. spending all your precious days together, enjoying small moments, but deep down longing for more. and more did come. Jeongin gathered all his courage. “will you go to prom with me?” one day he appeared at your front door with a bouquet of tulips. “as friends?” you asked hoping for a negative answer. “as boyfriend and girlfriend” he responded quietly, cheeks blushed. you provided your response by connecting your lips in a shy kiss which quickly became more passionate when all your suppressed feelings could be finally released.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months
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Hi Hal! First of all, congratulations for reaching 5k followers! Your fanfics are what pushed me further into COD and Cult of Vagabonds turned me into a full on Gaz girlie 💗
With that, I would love to request some sort of boyfriend drabble for Gaz! I remember in some of your asks, you guys would talk about Kyle being a gentleman and just him being a sweet and loving partner in general. So, I was thinking of scenarios with him taking care of reader, maybe he helps her with her skin care routine when she's too tired, or he picks her up and takes her home when she gets drunk (and he goes along with her drunk shenanigans but at the same being the protective, worrywart bf) or (as someone who loves shopping and dressing up) they go on dates and they spoil each other since they know each other's preferences so well, stuff like that hehe.
Again, congratulations on the milestone Hal! Here's to many more celebrations and achievements 💖
—Drunken Sappiness
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [You can't say you've ever had a boyfriend as perfect as Kyle.] ❞
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You giggle, slurring your words as you get placed into the back seat of a cab. 
“I love you s’much, Kyle, y’know that?” The man himself is smiling fondly, heart eyes stuck into his head as he holds the door for a moment before grabbing your legs, pushing them inside. He shakes his head in good-nature.
“I’m flattered, Sweetheart. I love you too, yeah…? Let’s get you home—think you’ve had a bit too much fun tonight.”
Your arm is over your eyes before it’s grabbed, Kyle grunting, “Up you get,” before the world slips and you’re sitting up, belt clicked around your frame by long fingers. 
The driver waits patiently as your boyfriend closes the door and jogs to his side, opening and closing it before giving the directions to your shared flat as you lean over into him heavily. 
“I like your smile,” you push out, gripping his waist tightly, nuzzling his shoulder. 
Kyle watches, face bright and teasing as his arm loops your body to pull you into him. This was turning out to be a good end to the night—he always knew you were a clingy drunk, but this was just sweet. 
“Yeah?” He asks, pushing farther on with a smirk as the vehicle turns and continues on. “What else do you like about me, Love?”
“What isn’t there to like?” You hum, eyes blown and half-lidded. You’d crash soon, but Kyle wanted to get you ready for bed before that; at least into some pajamas and get your makeup off. He’d hate for you to wake up uncomfortable.
“Well,” the man teases, “can’t argue there.”
You laugh into him, uttering, “My head’s spinnin’.”
Kyle’s face becomes a bit more understanding, worrying even when he knows it’s normal. “We’ll be back soon, yeah? Get you off to bed—you can tell me about how dashing I am in the morning, okay?”
“Deal,” you whisper, vision blurring as a hard kiss is placed on your head.
The man does as he promised himself he would, and soon after you’re, difficulty, dressed into pj’s, he’s kneeling down as you sit in your vanity seat, spreading micellar water on a cotton pad. 
“C’mon, Love, keep those eyes open for me.” The item is moved along your cheeks as your lashes flutter. You’d take a shower in the morning, Kyle just wanted you to get some rest. “There we are, then….Beautiful.”
Humming under your breath, you blink at him as he takes off your mascara, using another pad to not spread the particles around when he starts on the other eye. 
“You’re perfect,” you whisper, still under the alcohol’s effects but not lying for a mere moment. “S’good to me.”
The Brit feels his cheeks go hot, clearing his throat at the praise and your sleepy expression. 
Lord…you looked adorable. 
“I’m a lucky bloke,” he utters to you, standing back up and kissing your forehead. “Couldn’t ask for a better woman to be around.” Kyle huffs a chuckle. “Even when she’s drunk, she’s complimenting me. You’re an ego boost, Love. A dangerous one.”
Even if you only registered half of those words, you still know the way he picks you up and carries you to bed, settling you down before flicking off the lights.
“Water’s on the nightstand—meds, too,” he mutters into your scalp as he slips beside you, pulling the covers up around both of your bodies. “I’ll remind you when you wake up.”
His hand rubs up and down your skin, thumb massaging the flesh in tiny circles that leave your mind purring at the slight pressure. Kyle’s lips are at your hairline, not leaving there as he holds you lightly to him, humming in the back of his throat. 
“Love you,” you slur for the millionth time that night. 
Kyle has no problem answering for a billionth. 
“Love you too, Sweetheart. You go on and sleep now.”
So, with little resistance, you do.
He really was the definition of the perfect boyfriend.
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sprout-fics · 10 months
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The 141+ Los Vaqueros (separate, ofc) with an S/O who is the quiet/shy type, but in that moment their super horny and don’t know how to ask for what they want, or maybe they feel embarrassed, etc. so instead they just stand their with their cheeks all red, fiddling with the hem of their shirt, or maybe just lightly grazing touches on the COD men and hoping they get the hint. Who’s gonna make them use their voice? Who’s gonna know exactly what they want and give it to them? Who’s gonna make them beg for/earn it? 🤔
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Captain John Price
Will make you use your voice, might possibly make you work for it
He’s charmed by your bashfulness, your fiddling with the hem of his shirt on his lap as you don’t look him in the eyes
Usually he’s the one approaching you for sex, winding you up with husked little whispers and firm, purposeful touches of his palms, knowing exactly what buttons to push before you’re nothing more than a whining, mewling puddle in his hands
It’s just so easy. Your tells are so obvious, and he can see a mile away exactly what you want from him. 
“You’re a big soldier, you can use your words.”
Even so, he likes to play that game, likes forcing you to say it out loud, likes rewarding your pleas by bending you over his desk, setting to work in ruining you in quick order
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Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick
He’s a little cheeky about it
Gaz likes to tease when he can, but it’s all good natured, playful and sweet. He’s not nearly as bad as Soap, but he will sometimes go for the ‘Oh? Don’t think I heard you, a little louder?’
He’s very susceptible to you being shy and sweet but needy. It doesn’t take much for him to get the message when you nibble along the underside of his jaw, make a particular noise when he kisses you
He’s pretty attuned at reading you, fortunately. So when you give yourself away he’ll pull back, excited, pleased with just a little ‘Yeah?’ while you nod and try to drag him closer again
He has to coax you from being too shy sometimes, has to tell you he wants to hear you ask for it. 
Not in a mean way, just in a ‘Gotta talk to me, dove’, if only to make sure he’s taking care of you
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John 'Soap' MacTavish
The worst tease
Absolutely terrible tbh
It’s rare, too. Usually you don’t have to ask because Johnny has already beaten you to the punch. He can barely keep his hands to himself, constantly touching you with the purpose of suggestion, huffing into your ear about ‘Upstairs? Bed? Please?’
But sometimes, in the gentler days, you’ll both be sitting on the couch and you’ll just suddenly decide you want him
It’s those days that you’ll shift your legs, try to summon the words to say ‘Hey, Johnny…’ and then be too embarrassed to speak
He plays the game right back at you, will make a point to haul you into his lap and lets his hands roam as he goes ‘You know what? …Ah no, nevermind. …Actually? Nah, forget it.’It’s the worst, because he won’t let up even when you’ve asked, will ask you to speak up, will continue to tease you before he just laughs, presses you into the couch with a twinkling smile
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley
You two have gotten to know each other very well, and there’s a certain level of trust between you that extends past the point of words
You can look at Simon the right way, can have an entire conversation between your stares that ends with him nodding, hoisting you up and carrying you in the direction of the bedroom
It takes time, however, and before that happens you’re forced to communicate what you want because Simon is dense
To the point where you stand in one of his shirts in his bedroom door, and even then it takes a few moments for it to click. He’s not used to this, to someone being shy but wanting with him, trying and failing to ask for the things they want
When he’s in a certain mood he will make you ask for it, is a little meaner about it than Price. Stern, but not necessarily cold, likes to flaunt that little power he has over you, briefly enjoying the sight of you squirming before he surrenders “Tell me.” He demands, slow and dark, one hand braced over your head as he leans down over you, watches your lips form the word please
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Colonel Alejandro Vargas
When he’s asked, he doesn’t need to be asked twice
That being said, you need to ask
Ale is often quite busy as a colonel, might miss your more subtle tells
It’s not that he forces you, it’s that you just need to get his attention, and that’s a hard thing to do when you’re shy
So you resort to little tugs on his clothes, insistent but quiet, making him turn to you in question, catch your expression
He doesn’t get it the first few times, cups your face in his hands and asks what’s wrong, are you okay? Upset?
He’s surprised then when you shake your head, ask him if he…if he would just come to bed?
It takes him a second, but his face lights up, and he peppers you with excited little kisses
“All you needed to do was tell me.”
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Rodolfo Parra
Gentle, beloved Rudy
Who will one day tumble you into bed without you having to speak a word, and the next will have you ask him over and over again as he kisses you senseless, repeating yourself endlessly  until your face scrunches in desperation
He always hushes you when you do, presses kisses slow and languid against your lips, apologizes for teasing, and then absolutely does it again
He’s not sadistic about it, far from it
He’s just addicted to the soft pleas of you asking for him, wants to hear it as often as he can, his beautiful, beloved, shy cariño, so sweet and gentle but so endearingly bashful that he can hardly stand it
“One more time.” He tells you, face buried in your neck, and you want to throw a hand over your face and beg
“Please.” You try again, voice near cracking. “Please, I want you to…to make love to me.”
He does. They all do, in their own way, finding ways to take you apart so desperately that you can’t help but fall in love all over again
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