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#the word that's 'too hard to understand' is PREVIOUS btw. like. REALLY???????
ze-rei · 2 years
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okay but how do people use Microsoft word to write, it's infuriating "another word might be easier for your readers" "exchange many for a number to be clearer" how about you shut up, i know what I'm doing
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daydreaming-en-pointe · 5 months
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˗ˏˋ street food date ´ˎ˗
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(isn’t that just the most creative title :D)
requested by very a lovely person who wishes to remain anonymous <3
Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar (Spider-Man India) x Fem!Pakistani!Reader
Type: Oneshot - Fluff
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: terms of endearment, mentions of food & eating, usage of Hindi (translations provided), I don’t speak Urdu so it’s google-translated 😭
A/N: Reader speaks Urdu and Pavi (canonically) speaks Hindi. Since both languages are pretty similar in terms of speaking, at least from what I’ve observed, let’s assume that they can understand each other fairly easily :)
I absolutely LOVED writing this omg it was such a cute request! Sorry it took me so long so do this, I was so busy that I completely forgot abt all my reqs for a while 😅
Btw this was barely proofread so if there are mistakes no there aren’t <3
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“Meri jaan, you’re spilling it.”
You turned at the familiar voice, just barely managing to balance a paper plate in your hands with an absurd amount of dahi papadi chaat piled onto it.
“You’re late,” You noted, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling like a lovestruck idiot as Pavitr approached you, flashing that dazzling, slightly crooked grin that had your heart stumbling and falling over your mind trying to make sense of it all. You dropped your gaze to the floor, trying your best to cross your arms without dropping the food on the plate.
“I know. And I’m sorry, I really am. But you know that juggling my… duties and timings are hard,” He dipped his head slightly to make you look at him, brushing a small piece of papdi off your kurta. God, he was so annoying sometimes. His eyes were so soft and irresistible and he knew it.
“Come on, look at me,” He said teasingly, stepping forward slightly and grinning as you glanced up at him, then immediately frowned at your lack of willpower when it came to him. “There she is.”
You felt a smile break through so you set down the paper plate on a nearby ledge, leaning forward to wrap him in a hug and bury your face in his clothes. “Arre, you’re insufferable,” You mumbled, to which he let out a small chuckle and effortlessly picked you up to spin you around despite your little yelp of surprise.
“Oh, yeah, definitely. I’m sure that’s why you came out here on a date with me to have street food, right? Let’s go, meri dhoop. No use of you being all sad right now, naa? Look, there’s even pani puri a few stalls down.”
You almost got whiplash from how fast you turned your head to look, your eyes widening in excitement as all previous thoughts were forgotten. “You should’ve mentioned that earlier!”
Pavitr laughed, the easy chuckle - as cliché as it sounded - practically music to your ears as you grabbed his hand and took off, leading him to the pani puri vendor. “I knew that’d cheer you up.”
One shared paper plate of (admittedly quite messy) pani puri and a whole skewer of seekh kebab later, you leaned against a ledge overlooking the Mumbattan bridge right next to a whole row of new vendors. Pavitr wrapped an arm a little too tightly around your shoulders, nervously measuring the distance you would fall if you tripped.
“Pavi, relax, I won’t fall,” You gave him a reassuring smile, and he breathed out slowly before giving you a slightly strained smile in return. “Yeah, sorry. Spider-Man stuff. Lots of, uh… bad things happen. Usually near large drops.”
Your eyes flicked to his hand, gripping the railing so hard his knuckles were starting to lose circulation. Sensing his discomfort, you moved away from the railing back into the middle of the cobblestones.
“I’m going to braid your hair,” You declared suddenly to ease the tension in the air, examining the smooth waves that framed his face, pushed back slightly with his blue headband. His eyes widened in horror at your statement. “Wait, what? No! I said I was sorry for coming late! I’ll do my absolute best to come on time, I promise!”
“I’m not that rough,” You protested, scrunching your eyebrows as he cupped his warm hands over your cheeks. “Of course not, meri jaan. You’re so gentle, my hair definitely doesn’t feel like it’s being sent to an early grave.”
“Aap drama baghair kisi wajah ke bana rahay hain.” (You are making drama for no reason) You frowned at him and he chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“Kabhi nahin! Mei achcha vajeh se drama karta hoon. …Uff, thik hai, tum mere baalon ko tod sakte hain. Lekin… pehle ise kha leh.” (Never! I do drama for good reasons. ..Okay, fine, you can tear my hair out. But first… eat this.)
He held up a plate of vada pav, his smile growing as your eyes lit up again, the familiar scent bringing back memories of sitting in your grandparents’ house and watching them cook, masala-infused aromas wafting through the kitchen from the large utensils.
“What did I do to deserve you?” You wondered aloud as you started stuffing your face with the nostalgic dish. Your tone was lighthearted and playful, but it had a few traces of the underlying truth. You were so, so lucky to have him, and you knew it.
You could see it every time he dramatically presented you with some knickknack or the other that he picked up along the way, handing it to you with a bashful ‘it made me think of you.’ You could see it every time he adjusted your dupatta, every time you caught him staring at you with round, loving, awestruck eyes as if you were the very centre of the cosmos itself.
And when he smiled at everyone it was usually genuine, sure, but you had a special kind of smile reserved for your eyes alone. One that made the small dimples at the corners of his mouth even more noticeable, one that made him scrunch his nose subconsciously with how wide he was smiling.
The kind of smile he was using right now. And oh, good grief, you were so far gone for him. He was so effortlessly gorgeous it actually hurt - wavy hair swept to one side behind his headband, brown eyes turning gold in the sun, the light dappling his face and flicking tiny spots of shadow onto his skin.
“Tum bohat khobsorat ho,” (You’re so beautiful) You whispered, completely spellbound. Pavitr blinked in surprise, his smile turning slightly shy. “Arrey, tum mujhe bahut zyaada phlait karte ho.” (You flatter me too much)
“No, really!” You insisted, tapping the tip of his nose with your pinky and laughing when he scrunched it instinctively. “You’re very pretty, you know that? Mera khobsorat ladka. Pretty, pretty boy.” (My beautiful boy)
“Aap adhik sundar hai.” (You’re more beautiful) Without warning, he gently grabbed your torso and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. You looped your arms around to meet behind his shoulder blades, resting your chin in the crook of his neck.
You were scared to move, to disturb the silent peacefulness of it all, but you wanted to tell him something that would hopefully put his worries to rest.
“You know I won’t leave you, right? I won’t be your… what is it, canon event? Whatever that is.”
At the words ‘canon event’, Pavitr flinched as if he had been burned, his eyes wide and searching as he looked at you. “What? Where did that come from? And how-”
“Okay, listen, so it’s kinda my fault,” You began, choosing your words so as to not agitate him any further. “But you know how you said I could read your journal, because basically every embarrassing thing you’ve written is you being lovesick for me?”
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” He covered his face with his hands in embarrassment, messing up his hair in the process.
“Anyway, uh… you left it open on your drawer and I maybe kind of accidentally looked through the last entry. But only because I was worried. You’d been acting stressed out the whole day, remember? I’m sorry!”
“I don’t… hmm, actually, that’s pretty sweet that you were worried. I appreciate it.” He lifted his head to meet your eyes, almost smiling before his face crumpled again. “Hang on, what else did you see? Oh, god, did you see the whole page of poems I wrote? No, wait, hear me out! In my defence, I was absolutely whipped for you. I still am, but-”
“Pavi?”
“Yeah?”
“Ai, meri mohabbat. Chup ho jao. Mujhe lagta hai ke yeh dilkash hai,” (My love. Shush. I think it’s adorable) You reassured him, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose before moving in to press a soft kiss to his lips, an attempt at putting his worries and ramblings to rest.
That shut him up pretty well.
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Please know that I am not Pakistani! I tried my best to write this, but if there is anything I’ve gotten wrong, please let me know and I’ll be happy to change it. <3
Meri jaan - my life
Meri dhoop - My sunshine/my sun
A kurta is a loose, collarless type of shirt worn by people in South Asia. It usually extends up to or just past the knee.
A dupatta is a length of material worn arranged in two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez or a kurta, by women from South Asia.
Papdi chaat (or papri chaat) is crispy fried-dough wafers served with typical chaat ingredients such as chickpeas, boiled potatoes, yogurt sauce, and tamarind and coriander chutneys; it may also contain pomegranate seeds. Dahi papdi chaat is the same thing, but more yoghurt is used (dahi means yoghurt/curd).
Pani puri is a popular Indian snack consisting of fried puff-pastry balls filled with spiced mashed potato (the puri), spiced water, and tamarind juice (the pani).
Seekh kebab is a type of kebab made with Indian spices, spiced, minced or ground meat, usually lamb or chicken, formed into cylinders on skewers and grilled.
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Tags: @hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099
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98 notes · View notes
belit0 · 11 months
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Hello!♡
Thank you so much for doing my request! I absolutely loved it! It probably made my day too haha! Your writing is so fun and nice to read, you're just so talented!
I'm honestly very shy about requesting things from people, because I don't want to bother them, but this definitely motivated me to share another idea of mine, which I hope you don't mind!
I'm really into the Yandere x secret Yandere trope, which I honestly don't see enough of and it's a shame! I also really loved the dynamic between Yandere Shisui and Itachi in your fic, which made me have an idea.
So basically, the reader, Shisui and Itachi all growing up together. Shisui and Itachi were always super obsessed with the reader, unaware that the reader fully knew of this and enjoyed the attention. And they were also a Yandere for the two, who just waited for the moment they finally confessed to them, so they can unapologetically keep the boys to themselves. The clan kept them away from eachother maybe as well, but nothing can really stop the two boys once they want something, haha... You can gladly make this nsfw, if you'd like, too!
I'm sorry that this is a long one and hope you don't mind me asking for a request for them again! Thank you once more for doing my previous one too! I love it!<33
(Excuse my English btw! I'm not a native speaker.♡)
- bunni anon
I really appreciate your love and interest, genuinely!
I completely understand the feeling of being a nuisance, but this blog is a safe space for everyone, and you are more than welcome anytime you want to chat or send me a request! Please don't be shy, and make yourself comfortable here!
I would have loved to make this request sooner, but life and work sucked me in. It took longer than usual, but here it is and I hope you like it!
TW: Yandere! Itachi - Yandere! Shisui - Yandere! reader Pairing: Uchiha Itachi / Uchiha Shisui / reader NSFW
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You see, the Uchiha are not very good when it comes to demonstrating affection with words, yet they are great with actions. Sometimes, they have a hard time pronouncing an “I love you", but they won't hesitate to burn down cities for their loved ones, to kill as many people as necessary, to destroy lives just to prove their feelings.
They lose their head and minds for the one who dominates their heart, making it their priority for them to be happy, to have everything they need, and to lack nothing. They may not be able to verbalize it or find it difficult to formulate words to explain emotions, but in their behavior, there is no hesitation.
They know what they are doing.
Just as (Y/N) knows what she does.
In this girl's case, she has not one crazy Uchiha, but two. Both ninjas decided to take and share her as the object of their passion, to give her all their sentiments and affection, undivided attention.
The beginning of the end comes when Shisui saves her from some thieves one rainy night. The Uchiha was on guard duty, patrolling dark streets looking for suspicious activity. Police life is much simpler than working fighting ninjas from other nations, and he appreciates the solitude of the evening. Suddenly, he sees a woman walking alone, presumably trying to get home. She tries to shelter from the rain by walking under roofs, and doesn't notice when she is accosted halfway. Two thieves tried to steal her belongings and assault her, but the ninja intervenes quickly, coming out of hiding and reducing the threat in seconds.
The woman thanks him in tears, hugging him and hanging onto his neck as if it were a matter of life and death. Shisui takes a moment to appreciate her closely, and gets fascinated by her beauty. Even soaking wet and with a face swollen with tears, the girl is beautiful. He can feel the shape of her body beneath his hands as he holds her, how her curves mold to his fingers, and then, it hits him.
This girl has to be his.
He took her to the Uchiha police station where Itachi sat, waiting for his best friend to return and continue chatting. His free time between missions became a moment to spend with his cousin, unpressured by schedules, making a habit of visiting him on his night watches and keeping him company.
When Shisui enters with the attacked woman, the two share an immediate look of understanding, and realize they have found their next object of obsession. Used to not being argued with and always getting what they want, both friends worked countless times to achieve their goals.
With (Y/N), however, it was different. The girl seemed uninterested in their advances yet somehow managed to keep them wrapped around her finger.  They tried to approach and conquer her countless times, to win her heart and finally be able to possess her, but she seemed to enjoy seeing them struggle, working for it.
Soon, it became a challenge.
Such became the fixation of both Uchiha, Shisui began to miss his nightly patrols, and Itachi to skip his ANBU missions. Undeterred by their sense of responsibility, their superiors questioned them, not understanding how two shinobi of such caliber could be acting so strangely.
The two would get together to plan, try to understand, and brainstorm ways to obtain her without having to make a fuss. Sure, they could resort to kidnapping, taking and making her disappear forever, but that meant dealing with a lot of cumbersome details. Investigations, explanations to the family, tracing, covering up fingerprints, annoying things they had dealt with countless times in the past.
The puzzle lay in how she always sought them out and needed them, but never accepted their moves.
She would call and ask them to escort her home for the night, but never allowed them to come in and stay with her.
She would call and ask them to keep her company at work, but never agreed to stay with them for a drink later.
She would call them if she heard a strange noise in her place, but never let them stick around to secure the perimeter.
The girl would play with them, and it drove the two ninjas crazy. They had never met anyone who would make things so difficult, who would complicate their strategies and maneuvers, who would resist their advances like that. It made them even more desperate and obsessed, falling into the trap of needing her.
Eventually, their respective bosses had to intervene. Itachi was temporarily suspended from the ANBU for neglecting his responsibilities, and Fugaku forbade them both from approaching the woman if they wanted to continue holding their positions within the clan. Shisui was closely watched by his police colleagues, obeying direct orders from the chief.
Things got annoying and cumbersome, which only gave them more determination to achieve their goal. If people wanted to take her away from them, to get her out of their hands, there would be trouble.
Something (Y/N) enjoyed in a big way.
Knowing the two most powerful Uchiha were eating out of her hands, trying to get under her skirt, to get something from her, made her feel like the most powerful woman in the world. She could whistle, and the two would be at her feet obeying her needs, doing whatever she wanted them to do.
She abused and used this ability to the fullest, enjoying the looks of desire from both men every time she called them for something. They always hoped she would allow them to stay, to come into her bed, to be part of her life in a stable way, but (Y/N) never would.
She loved the frustration on their faces when she asked them to leave, when she told them she didn't need them anymore, and how helpless they were every single time. The girl learned to manage and have them at her beck and call, so much so they would abandon their responsibilities for her.
Yet, at some point, the Uchiha had enough, and decided to put a stop to (Y/N)'s demand. She had gained the upper hand, and it was time to turn it all around.
When she called them again, they were determined to act.
It was late, and (Y/N) was moving her chakra with the signal the three had agreed to use as a call. Both Uchiha were together, and they rushed simultaneously to the scene. The girl was in the middle of the forest and desperately called for them.
When they reached her, they were met with a heartbreaking sight.
She was on the ground, her clothes torn and crying. Anyone who analyzed the situation at first glance would say she had been attacked by someone, but something wasn't right.
Shisui rushed over to her, asking if she was all right, what had happened, demanding answers. As he pulled off his shirt to cover her, Itachi detected the lie.
There were no footsteps in the perimeter other than hers, no sign of other people. No chakra seemed to be nearby, and there were no traces of anyone, either in the trees or on the ground. (Y/N) had no scratches, no cuts, no blood on her skin, and if someone had genuinely ripped her clothes off, they would at least have marked her with their fingernails.
The other Uchiha continued to worry, hugging and holding her as if something had really happened. Itachi merely watched, and when (Y/N) stopped her theatre of lies, he spoke seriously.
"If we're going to keep suffering, you'll have to give us something in return, you know?" The man leaned his back against a tree, serenely crossing his arms over his chest. He narrowed his eyes and glared at her, waiting for a reaction.
"What the fuck, Itachi! How could you say such a thing in this situation?!" Shisui exclaimed in true anger, so mowed down by his feelings he didn't even pause to observe the staged scene.
Some seconds of silence were by, the forest completely calm, while she decided what would be her next move.
(Y/N) began to laugh, and clutched her stomach as a fit of giggles knocked the wind out of her. Itachi looked apprehensive, having caught on to her deception from the beginning, while Shisui watches her in disbelief, not understanding the scenario.
"You genuinely think someone did this to her and didn't leave a single mark on her body or the place? Look around, it's another one of her lies."
"Busted!" she continued to laugh, as if she didn't care one bit about doing such a thing. "Tachi, relax, be a little funnier next time, it's not amusing if you ruin my show from the start. All right! we're done, back to your normal activities, boys!"
Normally, both would listen to her and let her be, but this time she had gone too far. By faking a scene like that, she seemed to be asking them to execute it themselves.
"I'm fucking sick of this (Y/N)!" Shisui pounced on her, trapping her under his body while holding her wrists above her head. "You want to play with us, treat us like your faithful dogs, yet I'm fed up! If you don't give me something in return, I won't continue with this!"
"Yes, you will, even if I don't give you anything, because you love me, don't you? Both of you do. You're as much mine as I am yours, there's no way around it!" She exclaimed with a smirk, laughing in both their faces.
"All right then, time for you to prove it." Itachi moved towards her, quickly working his pants. Shisui caught the hint and readied himself likewise.
If (Y/N) didn't want to cooperate, they would have to do it the hard way.
The long-haired Uchiha knelt at her head, with each of his knees at one side of her face, facing Shisui. He pulled his cock out of his clothes and held it in front of her face.
"You're going to take it all, and let us do what we want with you, just like you've been doing what you want with us." The short-haired man exclaimed as he finished ripping the remaining clothes off of her.
"Well (Y/N), let's see what you've got." Before she could say anything else, Itachi shoved his member into her mouth, reaching the back of her throat without warning. Shisui soon followed in step, spitting his hand and rubbing it over his dick before thrusting it into her.
(Y/N) moaned as best she could from the initial pain, until her pussy produced enough lubrication to accompany the Uchiha. They both worked her holes with abandon and ferocity, drawing out their pent-up need for her.
"Shit (Y/N), if I'd known you felt this way, we would have done it sooner."
"Eat it all, you fucking slut, don't leave anything out."
They destroyed her entrances with heavy thrusts, not letting her catch her breath. Her hands remained restrained above her head, and she could do nothing but take them both at once.
"Come on little slut, bear it like the good little girl you are, show us what you're made of."
"So good baby, it feels so good, shit."
Itachi works her mouth, making her gag with each thrust, leaving a trail of fluids around her lips. His balls crashed against her nose and knocked her out of breath for long seconds. Her eyes lost focus, and she could do no more than endure it.
Shisui was tearing apart her cunt with abandon, pumping in and out over and over again without caring how red her skin got or how much it hurt.
They both finished almost in unison, followed by the difference of a couple of seconds, filling her with their seed.
"This just became your new routine, (Y/N). I hope you enjoy it."
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likesunsetorange · 3 months
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Need her to drunkenly over tip by a huge margin again and for Eren to witness 😭
He tries to argue with her in the car but her head hurts and she’s certain she’s better at math than him even if she is drunk!
bodyguard au drabble # 4
LOL maybe bc im bored and taking a break from writing and i miss writing them cute bc i love them so much and its depressing writing them hate each other lol so here’s a little mini drabble!! also tried to combine some of the hc’s we’ve made that i happened to remember!!
(this is when they’re on good terms finally btw)
For all intents and purposes, Mikasa, albeit surprisingly, can handle her liquor.
How exactly? Eren’s not really sure, it’s something that still confuses him, especially when he’s certain she doesn’t weigh more than 140 lbs, he can’t quite comprehend where all the alcohol she drinks goes to. He’s sure it has something to do with her previous partying trysts, developing a tolerance over time. But from what Eren’s seen, some way, somehow, unless she’s purposeful in her drinking, she can normally make it out of a night unscathed, ending up mostly coherent at the end of the night.
So it’s because of this, Eren can’t seem to understand why tonight of all nights, she’s drunk beyond her means off two beers and a shot, as if it’s her first time drinking.
It’s Mikasa’s decision in the first place why the end up at the bar. After a day of running around, Mikasa wanting nothing more than to go to some new exhibit and an art gallery in Chelsea, in which she spends the entirety of their time their explaining every little detail of every art piece to Eren (which Eren finds himself enjoying more than he would like to admit), she insists on stopping at a few places he would like, feeling bad she drags him around to do her bidding; and then it’s only customary they get something to eat, knowing the two of them would be too lazy to cook once they got back.
But Mikasa, instead of ordering much to eat, orders a round of shots which they take together, and two beers (to Eren’s great surprise), and somehow ends up drunk. Her face flushed pink and her words beginning to slur, the customary signs of a Drunk Mikasa. She even starts scooting closer to him, whispering little jokes into his ear.
“Eren,” she whispers, trying to hold back giggles. “What do you call a sad strawberry?”
Eren raises a brow, wondering where this could possibly be going. “I don’t know, tell me.”
“A blue berry,” her words almost inaudible between laughs.
He can’t help but laugh a bit, because he can admit, it’s a little funny. He finds he likes this laid back version of her, when she’s seemingly more relaxed, not worrying about the things that he knows plague her mind—the side of her hates to see, plagued by her familial issues that cause more of a strain on her heart than she likes to admit. But on days like today, her steps are a little lighter, her smile a little brighter, and it’s hard to not be infected by her joyous mood.
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, shaking his head, but his mouth is upturned, clearly amused and endeared.
“I’m actually berry funny,” she counters in between laughs as she lightly sways side to side, almost causing her to fall out of the barstool before Eren steadies her.
After this, he can see how drunk she is, and flags the bartender over, ordering her something to eat, knowing they should probably get going soon before she gets any drunker.
He watches her as she sits at the bar beside him, picking at the fries he forced in front of her just a few minutes prior. She props her head up on her hand, face visibly flushed crimson, sporting this dopey smile on her face that Eren can’t help but find endearing—she’s so fucking cute.
“Eren,” she says turning to face him, “can we go now?” Her voice is sweet, the tone she uses every so often, the one that always gets him, it lacks the snappy tone she normally uses, even now that they’re on good terms.
“Mikasa, you need to eat something, you’re drunk,” he protests.
“I can be drunk at home; I’m tired,” she whines, her face almost forming into a pout—such a brat.
He almost succumbs to her wishes, much like he always does, knowing she does somewhat have a point. After a day full of running around—much like they always do—even he wants nothing more to go back to the apartment, shower, and go to sleep. But he would rather not deal with her being in a mood in the morning because she’s hungover.
“Just hurry and eat your fries and we can go.”
Though, Eren fails to realize that Mikasa, albeit drunk, is still Mikasa and does as she pleases. He watches as she waves the bartender over, her motions a little wobbly, and motions for the check. They’re one of three groups of people in the whole dive bar, so the bartender is back within a under a minute’s time, check in hand, Mikasa already having taken her card out ready to pay. He takes her card, handing her back her receipt for her to sign for it.
Eren sighs, knowing he isn’t going to win this battle, and watches as she signs, before she hands him the receipt.
“Here, hand this to him so we can go,” she says, her usual snappy tone back.
Eren reads over the receipt eyeing the original price and then the final price with tip, seeing Mikasa tipped him well over 100%.
“Mikasa, why did you tip him so much?”
“What do you mean, I tipped him 20%,” her voice confused. She stands up from her seat not wanting to continue the conversation, before grabbing Eren’s hand almost a bit forcefully, and pulling him from the stool. “C’mom, Hannes is here let’s go.”
Eren leaves the receipt on the counter, knowing there’s not much of anyone in the bar to grab it anyways, before allowing Mikasa to tug him along outside. He sees the usual SUV, and holds the door open so Mikasa can hop inside, and slides in behind her, opting to sit in the back with her.
“So do you usually drunkenly overtip people?” Eren finally asks once the car starts moving, Mikasa leaning her head against the seat with her eyes closed.
“What are you talking about, I tipped him correctly. I know how to do math Eren, I’m a Columbia graduate, thank you very much.”
“Mikasa, you tipped him $100 on a $55 tab.”
Mikasa opens her eyes to look at him, her face shocked. “You’re giving me a headache, stop talking,” she huffs before leaning against him, clearly wanting to end the conversation. Eren doesn’t mind her touch, almost leaning into it, clearly receptive of her (rare) physical affections.
“It’s this damn bow you wear all the time,” he jokes, tugging lightly at today’s pink ribbon.
“Well take it out then,” she says, not bothering to open her eyes.
He does as instructed, pulling on one of the strings, and taking off her hair tie, watching as her hair comes loose. “Thank you,” she mumbles. Her face visibly softens, almost as if his joke was half right, the tension instantly leaving her face once her hair is down.
“You know, there’s worse things you could be doing drunk, you’re just a generous tipper, who would’ve thought,” he jokes.
“Fuck off, I’m a nice person, okay.”
“Yes, Mikasa, you are,” he teases. “Now go to sleep, I’ll wake you up when we’re home.”
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fleet-off · 1 year
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From some of your posts, your editing sounds really analytical. What does your process look like?
Assuming this is about fic-editing? Thanks for the question, anon! I hope you don’t mind me going off a bit. 😅 If you want access to any of my macros + a quick intro on how to use them, hit me up—it’s super easy and I love talking about them. Sometimes I wonder if I’m too analytical, but my process works for me! Here is the nitty-gritty:
Bad-habit words. I use a Word macro to highlight ‘em. If I can’t justify a usage, I revise. Most “begin to” “reach for” “murmur” “think” “just” “softly” “the moment that” can be cut. Gestures like nodding or breathing tend to be filler. “goes [adjective, e.g. pale]” collocations can be replaced by a verb (“pales”). Etc.
Irrelevant description. The first draft of LatE had a long ill-thought tangent about Vegas running a hand up Pete’s leg and thinking about leg waxing. I was invested in that being a thing for them, but it bogged down my narration—I cut it. Even lovely colorful descriptions must fit and carry their weight. In general: is this detail plot- or setting-relevant? Does it contribute to mood? Does noticing it say something about the POV character? Does it repeat something I’ve already said? (That last one’s my worst writing habit. I’m prone to rephrases and near-synonymous coordinate adjectives/verbs.) (Also. Having to cut a metaphor I like breaks me every time. Pretty phrases that just don’t work? Gaaaaaah. Sometimes I can’t help keeping ‘em. It’s fanfiction, I’m allowed to be indulgent.)
Dialogue. I turn all non-dialogue text the same color as the page with a macro to check pacing. Filler phrases that don’t convey speaker emotion go first. Then I confront the overwritten parts—while I’ve outgrown blocks of dramatic high-style dialogue, I still tend to be too honest in my first draft. It’s cathartic to write all someone’s feelings out loud, but the most interesting part of a dialogue is what’s left unsaid. Emotional honesty is hard. Earning it is the negotiation of a difficult conversation.
Sentence/paragraph-level. I use a macro that colors sentences based on their length. With color-coding, I can check variety and tell at a glance whether sentence lengths align with the rise and fall of tension. At this stage, I split most of my run-ons—long sentences can be used to glorious effect, but their overuse wears on a reader. I try to save them for moments of high emotional intensity but low immediate action-based tension.
Big picture. I record myself reading the whole scene out loud and listen to it while I go on a walk or do household chores. Anything I stumble over recording or tune out listening to deserves a second look. Is event/thought progression logical? How does the scene flow? Does the pacing lag or skim at inappropriate moments?
So putting it all together, here’s a paragraph from an early draft of Lapping at the Edges:
Most days, Vegas genuinely tries not to push him past those limits. He just—he’s not like Pete, who seems to know instinctively where to cut him open to drain the worst of his poison. For Pete, understanding Vegas seems to come so simply; blunt weapon that he is, Vegas only knows how to take broad swipes and hope he strikes true.
The bad-habit highlight rids us of “genuinely” and “seems to.” We keep “he just—” and “only” because they mean something here. “Know instinctively” becomes “intuit.” (Onelook Thesaurus is a great resource, btw.)
Unneeded description? “For Pete, understanding Vegas seems to come so simply” restates the previous sentence, and “blunt weapon that he is” beats in a theme I express more subtly throughout the chapter. I cut both. Tangent I can’t help keeping here: hammers and bruises for Vegas, slicing and cutting off and sharp teeth for Pete except when Vegas romanticizes Pete punching him—the form of violence Pete was trained on and the one that hurts Pete to give him. (This is filtered through Vegas’s “I’m not the knife my father wanted me to be” feelings from chapter 1 and may not reflect what he and Pete actually are.)
That last sentence would need split, but cutting the “blunt weapon” bit removes the need. Sentence length works now.
No dialogue here, and the paragraph placement fits.
Revised paragraph:
Most days, Vegas tries not to push him past those limits. He just--he’s not like Pete, who can intuit where to cut him open to drain the worst of his poison. Vegas only knows to take broad swipes and hope he strikes true.
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We're the anon that kinda writes the longer ones like the "what we've learned from endos" one. Totally fine it took a bit, we have a hard time communicating so we know our wording can be difficult to understand especially since we write a lot without realizing. Happens a lot in our personal life as well so we're fairly used to it.
Also apologies if we repeat some stuff. Very dissociated...constantly cause we go thru a lot so we barely remember 90%+ of what we say or type or do. So we realized that we sent in a similar rant about "IF endos were real" cuz we had entirely forgotten our previous rant. Hope it's not too much of a bother overall. We have many thoughts with little outlets and big hyperfixations on this stuff esp thanks to some alters so...tend to be rambly.
But also just wanna finish off with a nice message (it's okay if u don't post this btw just wanted to add some clarification is all.) Hope you're doing well and doing your best to take care of yourself. What little we know, you seem like an awesome person. :) We enjoy the posts even if you don't have much to add at all. Wishing you well with whatever goes on in your life. You deserve awesome things and a good life. We are not great at encouraging messages, but we wanted to try to give a bit of support. To at least say something nice and encouraging. Hope you have an awesome day. <3 /genuine
Hey, we got what you said especially because we have the same issue of writing too much without realizing it.
No worries! If anything is repeated then we'll just answer it again, a sign we didn't realize at the time but do now is we would forget we said or mentioned something and repeat it over and over because we didn't realize it. Your not a bother, please don't ever think you are.
Well, even if this blog is on break we are always ready to be an outlet. No matter how long or short the rambling or asks. Even if it's not about endos we're happy to hear!
Thank you, really. That means a lot to us, genuinely. <3 /gen /p
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imunbreakabledude · 25 days
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I probably am being too hard on 2007scape in all honesty but besides what you've said about it, which I agree with pretty heavily btw, the main thing that gets me is the relentless shitting on rs3. I'm not saying rs3 doesnt have its issues, it certainly does, but a lot of it completely ignores a lot of the legitimately good parts of rs3. Which like why would any of them know about it they don't play rs3. Like I get that shitting on rs3 is a pretty sacred pastime for both sets of rs players but the joke is so played out on the osrs side at least. It just seems there's this vitriolic hatred for a combat update that happened well over a decade ago for a game none of them play anymore. And I understand that I shouldn't care what randoms on the internet say, especially randoms on reddit, but whenever I see it my first reaction is just 'really this again?' And there's the entire thing of people shutting down discussions about rebalancing xp rates or whatever else to not be the worst thing ever with 'if you want ezscape go play rs3 shitter'. I understand i'm complaining really hard about something that is pretty inconsequential but i dunno, despite rs3s numerous flaws there is still such love for it in my heart and it sucks to see it get shit on by people who don't even care about it. I dunno, enough of me whining though. The multi-million dollar company doesnt need me defending it
But on the point of eoc i think the original story is that the CEO and investors at the time forced eoc because they thought runescape needed to copy other mmos at the time. It truly was a shit show on release, and I actually remember being one of the few f2p beta testers at the time, but it's certainly shaped up with time and updates and last time I played it I actually liked it. I'd be interested to see what the osrs team would do with a complete combat expansion but I dont think it would ever happen, it'd completely change the core of osrs and wouldn't keep that vibe really. Plus it would never get past polling. But what they've been doing lately is pretty interesting, I like perilous moons and I feel like they still have some ideas left in the bank. They could look into things aside from bosses too, maybe world events could make a come back. The Bandos and Armadyl/Battle for Lumbridge one was a lot of fun in rs3, I remember the Tuska one being sick as all hell as well. But that sort of has it's own issues in being temporary content that osrs doesnt do outside of like holiday events and hot fixes plus possible lore complications. Maybe a proper big multi skill skilling boss more complex than Tempoross or Zalcano? Those god aligned prayers that were talked about a while ago really interest me. But I think eventually something will have to give, although I might be pretty biased as a previous rs3 player. Combat achievements are an amazing addition though I really like that update
I don't know if im apart of the group of players that wants more and more varied updates but I do feel like I certainly lean that direction. I'll admit though that I should not get my way, it'd certainly strip away the special identity of osrs and I could just get that from restarting rs3 again. I guess what I'm trying to say is that there is still more osrs could take from rs3 while still keeping that identity osrs has and I trust the current dev team to do that and with polling to help keep it in line
Also funny thing happened while typing this response my laptop completely bricked for no reason so I had to retype it all on my phone. So please excuse the shit response, I'm not really holding up my half of the conversation but if I didnt respond to something i just didnt have anything interesting to add and just generally agreed. Unfortunately I am just generally a boring person. Hope everything is well with you though
Yeah, I agree that "rs3" is used as kind of a boogeyman word in that community. Which on one hand, makes sense - this version was brought in specifically to NOT be rs3, and "rs3" broadly represents all the "bad changes" that made individual players stop playing that game. but I do think it's a bit much sometimes, even as someone who hasn't played rs3 since... maybe a couple brief attempts in ~2012 before OSRS released. but it's also funny how "EoC" is used derisively as the thing that "ruined" runescape, when it really wasn't just that, it was a lot of updates that were controversial to different people for different reasons. Removal of free trade/wildy, obviously; summoning and dungeoneering were both kinda polarizing; EoC, yes; but also the increased emphasis on MTX over the years. I remember when squeal of fortune was first added... yeah. But anyway, even if there are valid criticisms to be made and valid reasons for people to not want OSRS to go in any direction like that, people can be mean-spirited about it - i've heard mostly good things about rs3 from people who play it, recently, and tbh I think 2007scape has gotten nicer about it as a whole due to more players who play both (rs3 players picking up osrs, mostly)... and maybe also due to this community feeling less "threatened" now that it's clear OSRS is successful and here to stay (vs earlier days when there was an underlying fear jagex head honchos could pull the plug any moment). but I'm sure it is very annoying as someone who actively plays rs3 to see all that, I get that. It's a different game now. Different doesn't have to mean "worse".
the sentiment towards rs3, or i suppose "pre-eoc era" RS2 has definitely warmed up over the years in the 07scape community though. as evidenced by new skill polling passing... and as evidenced by the number of osrs updates that are basically things that existed in RS2/RS3 but are just reskinned... Some people are aware of that, some are not, but it's happening nonetheless. and I don't think that's a bad thing. as long as there's still polling and lots of community feedback, I don't think changes should be off the table just because "that was in rs3"... also because what feels "old school" or not is soooooo subjective so like. voting on it. voting is good.
also I am so sorry for your laptop what a tragedy! and no need to apologize, it's not a "shit response", agreeing is always welcome with me lol and just general chatting about osrs here is fun, don't really have many people to talk to about it tbh which is why i just end up typing my thoughts on here assuming no one is reading a lot of the time. but cheers, fun to have a convo about it :)
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ichigostellaglynn · 3 months
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Art giving mid basic devianart. It doesn’t even match styles, outfit not even from the era, name giving weeb. Your English svcks too. Embarrassing. 🤭🤭
Hello ! Finally you appeared again after leaving me for days :( ! I've been waiting for you since i want to show the fandom that ikevil has toxic jude fan... Ah pardon, you don't deserve to be called as fan 🙏🏻.
Just wanna say to other fans to not let this tras-- i mean this person bothers you 🙏🏻. Jude fans have different ways to show their love and support, and they all deserve his love.
Ok regarding your message to me dear :
1. Speaking of style and era, i bet you didn't read my previous post about it, or the full explanation in my Instagram right ? Wait i forgot you are unable to read properly. Pardon my rudeness not to notice your inability 🙏🏻. I won't waste my time explaining my OC to you.
2. Feel free to insult me and my OC, but don't talk bad about the art or even the artist. They have their own value through their artstyle and they are all unique.
3. About the name, once again i will say that my oc is half Japanese. You want me to give her korean name then ? Lol.
4. English is suck. Well of all people i met, only you who don't understand my English. My grammar might be broken English but people understand it. If you dont, then it means you're the one who stupid here--?
In my defense, English isn't my first language. If you can judge my English then i can assume English is your first language? But i think you only able to speak English properly then ? Sorry that my English is broken but i can speak 4 languages. So i spent my time learning 4 of them rather than focus on English only~.
If you only understand English, then lemme assume that you can't understand jude properly from jp app. That Jude will hate a person like you so much~. Or maybe you use translation app that mistranslated his words that he will love someone hateful like you 💀 ? Damn what a high level of delulu 💀.
5. Btw you did some body shaming hate speech towards me and other jude fans right ? Doing body shamming to people can mean that yourself is lack of beauty or even in ugly level.
You know what, born as poor and ugly isn't your fault. But pls don't take all poor, ugly, stupid, unable to read, black-hearted, mean, jealous, for yourself :(. You really take the whole package of negativity in this world.
Is that how you live ? Damn even my dog life is more blessed than you 🤧. How is it ? Wanna be my dog instead ? I promise i will love you and teach you how to love people properly, how to Respect people and how to see the world in beautiful way.
6. I'm not too active in Tumblr. So not many people know me, and you're the only one who send me ask btw 😂. That's why i like you, at least my Tumblr isn't that lonely.
How about you send me hate speech everyday ? So i can get ask everyday as well ! Go on dear, hate me, send hate words to me more.
Lemme see how much you're jealous to me, how much you envy me, how hard you crawl down only to see me top of you who can shamelessly support jude and show how much i love him 💞.
I will be waiting for your next message 😘.
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sorcerous-caress · 5 months
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You know there's one thing Sol can hold over the literal sun, the simple fact that people can hear them. The Sun is shrieking all the time within space. We just can't hear it.
If space could transmit sound, even if we were as far away as Pluto, the nuclear reactions within the sun would be so loud that the Earth would be a deafening hellscape.
I feel like Sol would enjoy that their voice is technically louder than the sun.
Yeah, Khal'ian was a mean play on Khaild's name. I kept dying in Act 2 because I forgot to level up when I joined initially, so my friend called him Khaild, and it stuck for a bit. I didn't play the previous number of baldur's gate titles, so I didn't understand why my friend was cackling after I died, exiting Jaheira's first cutscene.
Then I learned, winced, then swapped it around a bit.
Ended up with Khal'ian ( kinda pronounce similar to Kaolan)
At home and warm now👌
Hell yeah warmth!
I love space so much man, I've read so much about it and used to obssess over blackholes as a kid. Remembering all these facts about the sun fondly. It's middle aged :") she's dying AH the love of my life is dying. Hopefully we make it to mars before it or something.
And yes, that information would literally make Sol so happy.
They lack a lot of normal knowledge and information about the universe. They are definitely curious and fascinated by normal things like the grass, stars, and the mailman.
But they suppress their curiosity to focus on the current moment.
So they'd have no knowledge about the sun or space except for the fact they share their name with this annoying bright dot in the sky, you could convince them the earth is flat is you try. You don't even have to try hard on anything, they are a blank sheet and will take your words at face value. The kind who reads facebook clearly fake articles and believe them as core knowledge. Low wis/int gang letsgooo
So this information about people being able to hear them but not the sun, would go straight to their ego and heart like an arrow. Maybe Gale mentions it off handedly, maybe Khal'ian or Issa just speak about the sun and vaccum of space in their earshot, and suddenly Sol is staring at them like a cat would at catnip.
They were definitely the kind of child who would stubbornly stare at the sun until their eyes water and they have to look away, they took it as a personal challenge over that flaming ball.
HA! IN YOUR FUCKING FACE SUN. they'd yell, in draconic out of the blue, thinking no one would understand them. Smiling, actually smiling instead of their constant glare.
But ah, their smile is actually offputting and scary- the kind you'd see on a rapid dog before it bites you.
That single fact would make them so happy but they'll refuse to admit it, yet it's clear they're dying to hear more about the sun just to prove how superior they are over it. It definitely encourages them to talk more in general, they keep quiet unless they're yelling at someone or throwing an insult.
Now they feel like using their voice more, just make a normal comment, say hello or something more to the person approaching them rather than stoically call their name. Afterall, the sun cannot say hello, now can it?
They willfully ignore the fact that everyone else literally can be heard over the sun.
Gale: You are aware of the fact it is not only you who is auidable over the sun, yes? The rest of us, too, can hear each other.
Sol: L + ratio + didn't ask + you're not a sorcerer + my grandad fucked a dragon + seathe + cope + I'm hot + you're not + no bitches + ratio again
And hey, Khalid is actually one of my favourite characters in bg1. And the way he died was really heroic btw. He literally sacrifices so much and is the most courageous character despite being a shy stuttering fighter who is genuinely trying his best to make this world better, plus he did pull Jaheira and oh boy young Jaheira was a force by herself.
So honestly it's really cool that Khal'ian was named after him in some way, I think Jaheira would actually approve, she truly loved him and would love for someone worthy like Khal'ian to carry his legacy.
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salazarslytherin · 3 years
Text
midnight rendezvous (b.w x y/n)
requested: yes! by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 [i love you arms your writing so uh anything w bill weasley. either smut, angst, fluff, etc. is fine, but could it be on the longer side. please and thank you, no pressure btw :)] send in your own request here
summary: where you and bill have a penchant for meeting in the night
part two here
🃛 masterlist
cw/tw: angst, smut AND fluff babes fem!reader, bill's kind of a dick for a part. sexual tension to the MAX doll. age difference (~6-7 years?) reader IS 18! jic anyone was worried. also i imply reader is short-ish? but in my mind bill is like 6’3-6’5 so he’s massive and like most people would be shorter than him
word count: 5.25k (so i heard u say ‘on the longer side’ and interpreted it as ‘i want a short novel’. hope this satisfies u doll, there'll be one or two?? more parts coming!!)
a/n: requested by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 . hope you like it! pls leave a comment, like or reblog to help boost if you did xx
☯︎ join tag list here
Being the best friend of the Weasley twins definitely had its perks. Spending summers at the Burrow, having a second family that was closer to you than your own, friendly banter that came along with the family.
However, there was an unexpected drawback that came with this.
A drawback by the name of Bill Weasley.
⚔︎
Although in the same year as the twins, you were a year older than Fred and George, meaning you had always felt a little more mature than the two pranksters.
Thus, you felt like you noticed things that the two of them never really noticed. Girls having crushes on them, boys being envious of them, the ways rumours would fly around about the three of you.
The main thing, however, that you felt the two of them didn't notice, was the way Bill treated you.
It wasn't that he'd always been like this. The first few years you'd known the man, he was very nice to you – familial and brotherly, much like the rest of the family had been to you.
However, sometime in fifth year, things changed.
⚔︎
You arrived at the Burrow with the twins for Christmas, ready to be welcomed by the family you'd come to call your own, but was left feeling hurt, weirdly hollow.
Every Weasley had welcomed you with open arms, except Bill. Harry, the only other non-Weasley around, was embraced heartily by the curse-breaker, but you were given a sharp nod, and nothing more.
Confused, you shook it off, moving to sit next to George, his arm wrapped around your waist as you snuggled into him. Fred landed on your other side, passing you a mug of hot cocoa as he landed a kiss on the top of your head, arm enveloping your shoulders with a tight squeeze.
Surrounded by the younger Weasleys as you watched Ginny, Ron and Harry play a game of Exploding Snap, you felt an intense gaze on you, looking up to see the four oldest Weasleys sat around the dining table, watching all of you.
You caught Bill's eyes, sending him a familiar smile, but was ignored as the man took a sip of his coffee, turning to look out the window instead.
Your hurt was short-lived as Fred leaned into whisper a soft quip into your ear, letting out a laugh, turning to relay the same quip to George.
The rest of the trip went similarly – every time you attempted to catch Bill's eye, to hold a proper conversation, he'd ignore you, or brush you off, pretending that he had something else to do.
The day all of you left the Burrow to go back to Hogwarts, Bill had even left the group before you could say goodbye to him, and you could only be left wondering, what did you do?
⚔︎
Now that you've graduated, you were relishing in the last summer you could spend in the Burrow as a teenager without the pressure of work hovering over you.
Determined to have the best time you possibly could with your 'family', your days were consumed by pranks with the twins, quidditch with the family, and helping Molly bake.
Yet, you still felt empty; a hole in the warm pit created by familial love, a hole marked with the name 'Bill Weasley'.
The cursebreaker was still actively avoiding you, for no known reason, and you stopped seeking out why a year ago. Instead, you sought to live your life with one less brother, one less family member to love.
Tossing and turning, you found yourself particularly restless one night. Not wanting to wake Fred, who was sleeping soundly in bed next to you, you got up, tiptoeing down to the kitchen to have a nice cool sip of water.
You'd taken to sleeping in the twins' room since the first holiday you were at the Burrow. Molly was against the idea at first of course, but was incapable of stopping the pranksters who managed to sneak you in night after night, insistent on having 'sleepovers' with you.
After the third night, Molly gave up, only giving you three a strict 'no funny business!' warning, before trudging back off to bed.
⚔︎
The dim lamplight from the kitchen illuminated just about enough for you to see your surroundings, having been around the Weasleys' long enough to know which boards to avoid so as to not have them creak and wake the family up.
However, what you hadn't taken into account was a body on the ground, hitting your foot into a blanketed torso, making you elicit a shriek, the unknown body on the ground letting out a muffled groan.
"What the fuck?"
You muttered a quick 'Lumos', pointing your wand at the person under the quilt, only for the fabric to be thrown aside, revealing a tousled Bill Weasley, sleep clouding his narrowed eyes as he massaged his abdominal with one hand, ruffling his hair with the other.
"Oh."
Realising that the man on the floor was, in fact, a Weasley, and not some thief who'd stolen into the house in the middle of the night, you dismissed the charm, lowering your wand and shifting awkwardly on your feet.
"Sorry, I didn't know you were there."
Throwing a curt apology at Bill, you moved off towards the kitchen, grabbing a mug from the cupboard above and wordlessly filling it up, intent on finishing your business as quickly as possible before heading back up to the twins.
"Pour me a cup?"
The deep voice startled you for a moment. At some point Bill had gotten up from his mound of pillows and now found himself stood behind you, his hand holding out a mug that had a 'B' painted on it, gesturing at the water jug you were holding.
Nodding curtly, you poured him his water, Bill thanking you before moving to lean against a counter, watching you from behind the rim of his mug.
"'m surprised you're down here."
Furrowing your brows, you looked up at the man in confusion.
"What'd you mean?"
He shrugged, downing the rest of his water before placing the mug down on the counter with a tad bit more strength than he needed. He stretched for a moment, arms pulled over his head to pull the sleep out of his eyes, shirt moving up with the movement to show off a slither of his toned stomach.
"You're always around the twins, never see you without 'em. Expected you to be, in their beds or something I don't know."
A protest spluttered from your throat, choking slightly on the water that you'd been drinking.
"I–what?"
The man lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.
"Am I wrong? You've been in and out both their beds since you were firsties. I mean, it's not hard to guess what you're doing in there with 'em."
You huffed at the implications of Bill's words, putting your mug down with much of the same vigour as he had just now.
"First off, I'm an adult, and I can do what I please."
You were fuming, steam practically coming out your ears, and hearing the muttered 'clearly been an adult for a while' from Bill's lips didn't help.
"Second, even if I was sleeping with your brothers, which I am not, I don't understand why it'd be any of your business. It's not like we're friends or anything."
An odd, emotionless laugh came from Bill's lips, pushing off the counter to come stand over you. His tall stature forced you to stumble backwards, pressed against the wooden cabinets as he glared down at you.
"First off," Bill's deep voice was modulated up an octave, mocking your previous rebuttal.
"I am not saying your life is part of my concern. I'm concerned for my brothers."
A hand landed next to your head, pushing against the cabinet harshly.
"But second, you're practically a Weasley. It's my duty to look after you guys."
You laughed indignantly, looking away from the intense man to focus on his arm instead, as if studying the tattoos that covered his tanned frame.
"I'm sorry. It's your duty to look after me?"
You pushed him off of you, moving away with a huff, grabbing the two abandoned mugs to wash them with far too much tenacity, water splashing everywhere.
"Yes, that's what I said. I've known you since you were eleven – of course I have to watch over you. You're like family."
You rolled your eyes, giving up the facade of placidity as you left the mugs clattering in the sink, whipping around to face Bill.
"I'm like family? That's rich, William, truly rich."
Now it was your turn to advance towards the man, causing him to back up as your anger fueled you with energy, stomping dangerously close to his feet.
"If how you treat me is how you treat your family, I pity Molly for having you as a son."
Incoherent words left Bill's mouth in an attempt to argue further with you, but you didn't listen. Turning on your heel, you left the man in the kitchen, no longer concerning yourself with which steps to avoid as you stomped back to the twins' room, leaving Bill accompanied only by the dim light from the lamp, and the creaks coming from the floorboards.
⚔︎
After that infuriating night, it was no longer a 'hidden' fact that something was off between you and Bill.
While it had seemed that Bill used to be the one avidly avoiding you, the tables had quickly turned – you were now the prey ardently avoiding any encounters with your predator.
Any time Bill came into the room, you'd either leave, or place yourself as far away as humanly possible. During meals, you'd move yourself to sit next to Ginny, as opposed to in between the twins as you'd been sat for years, just so you no longer sat across from Bill. Even during quidditch, one of your favourite things to do with the whole family, you opted to sit out and stay in the twins' room or help Molly with the dishes, just to make sure you never had to interact with Bill.
Honestly, you weren't quite certain why the conversation with Bill had ticked you off so much. Maybe it was because he accused you of sleeping with your best friends, as if that was all you were good for. Maybe, it was because he had no right to insert himself in your life like that, to pretend like he cared about you in the first place.
It was clear he no longer wanted to be a part of your life when you were sixteen. You had no desire to welcome the curse-breaker back into your life now.
⚔︎
Three days after the midnight meeting with Bill, you found yourself restless again, unable to sleep.
George shifted slightly as you moved out of his bed, turning to cuddle with your now abandoned pillow as you slipped out of his grasp.
You decided to go for a quick midnight broom ride, hoping that the adrenaline rush and energy that you'd burn while flying would tire you out so you could finally fall asleep. A lot of the time you'd spent avoiding Bill turned into naps, which meant you were increasingly unable to fall asleep at night, disrupting your sleep schedule massively.
Cursing Bill under your breath, you creeped down the stairs, hoping that he wouldn't be down there again. You didn't want to have to deal with the eldest Weasley again.
Thanking your lucky stars, you landed on the final step, noting that the first floor was empty. Hoping that the door wouldn't creak when you opened it, you ran towards the small shed out back, grabbing a random broom from it and got ready to fly.
"Y/N?"
You were already mounted on the broom and ready to kick off as that dreaded baritone resounded from the door.
You should have known you weren't that lucky.
Yelling a quick "Nope!", you kicked off and flew out towards the countryside, only looking behind you to see Bill standing in his sleeping pants, hands gesturing out at you in exasperation.
"Now how's that for some good ol' avoidance?"
⚔︎
Though you'd initially planned on flying only for a little bit, seeing Bill at the door really put a damper on your plans, making you decide to fly to a nearby watering hole the Weasleys used to bring you to.
Illuminated by the moonlight, you descended upon the grassy area, smiling at the way the water rippled in the soft night breeze.
Tranquility was what the scene spelt.
In a moment motivated by something you'd come to dub as 'Weasley Whims', i.e the reason the twins had gotten the three of you in trouble constantly, you decided to strip down to your underwear to take a dip in the cool water, abandoning your clothes and wand on a mossy rock nearby.
Taking a running leap, you threw yourself into the water, feeling, for the first time in three days, free. A laugh rippled the waters as you broke through the surface, swimming back over to the edge, only for the laugh to be stolen away as you noticed a shadowed figure land next to your broom.
Bill Weasley was here to ruin your night, yet again.
You let out a strangled scream of frustration as the man alighted from his broom, feet and torso bared to the moonlight.
Clearly, he, like you, had not bothered to dress properly for the impromptu flight.
"Why are you following me."
Your question held no semblance of curiosity, only frustration as you demanded an answer from the man. His answer did not come, only moving towards the water to kneel in front of it, looking down at you.
"Why are you running away from me?"
Wisps of his ginger hair fell forward, covering bits of his handsome face as the rest was carelessly thrown up into a short ponytail, clearly done to prevent his hair from falling into his face during the flight, a precaution that you'd forgotten to take.
"I could ask you the same. Only, it must be a bit harder to hide from someone when they're already hiding from you in the first place, hmm?"
You turned away from the man, diving back down into the depths of the watering hole to kick yourself over to the other side, wanting to do nothing more than swim away from the ginger, or maybe, have him leave you alone and fly back to the burrow, alone.
But of course, fate never let you have your way.
You turned around only to see the man had sat himself down cross-legged, body illuminated by the moonlight as it highlighted the tattoos decorating his forearm, the several scars that littered his chest a sharp white juxtaposing his tanned skin.
"I never ran away from you."
Your head fell back as you tread the water lightly, looking up instead to admire the stars that embellished the night sky, recalling fondly the astronomy classes you'd taken in the past two years as you focused on constellation after constellation, intent on ignoring the man in front of you, hoping your disregard would drive him away.
"Y/N, I'm talking to you."
The words drew a monotone chuckle from you, your eyes snapping to meet Bill's.
"Well that's a first."
Bill moved to stand up, and your heart jumped for a moment. Maybe he would finally leave you alone.
But yet again, luck never did seem to favour Y/N Y/L/N.
Instead of moving further away as you'd thought he would, Bill moved closer, stepping into the shallow of the watering hole, the water soaking the bottom of his pants.
Your eyes darted at the ripple of his abs with every movement, swallowing as your eyes darted to look anywhere else you could. You were not about to find this man attractive.
You could see him coming towards you in your peripherals, and moved back to face him, his pecs the only part of his torso above the water.
"You haven't spoken to me for almost two years, and now you've just got so much to say to me, huh?
Bill looked down into the water, nibbling on his lip as he looked back into your eyes, almost sheepish as he tried to answer.
"I–"
"You know how much that hurt?"
You swam closer towards him, your feet finding ground as you stood next to him, your shoulders bared to the world as you were no longer submerged.
"You were like family to me for almost five years, and then one day. You just fucking stopped. Stopped talking to me. Stopped joking around with me. For a while, you didn't even look at me!"
Your hands came up out of the water, gesturing wildly as you basically screamed at the man, Bill flinching slightly as the water splashed into his face, looking back down at the water again.
Ashamed.
"D'you know how fucked up that was? I had no clue what happened, why one of the people I considered family, one of my favourite people in the world, just fucking despised me all of a sudden."
Bill looked up at you in surprise at your words.
"And you know the worst fucking part?"
Your voice suddenly fell to a hush, almost a whisper as a tear welled in your eye, prompting you to shut them as your head tilted down, urging your breath to slow down.
"The worst part, the worst part was that I thought it was my fault, that it was something I'd done to drive you away. I blamed myself for ages, didn't know what I said, didn't know why you hated me."
"Didn't know why you'd never like me back."
The last part was said in a true whisper, barely audible despite the silent night.
Yet Bill still heard it, and his breath hitched in his throat, eyes searching your face as a tear escaped you, rolling down your cheek.
Unable to restrain himself, Bill's hand darted forward out, cooled by the waters you two found yourself in, a blatant contrast to the warm tear as the pad of his thumb wiped it away.
You flinched away from Bill, feeling vulnerable for the first time that night, coming to the sudden realisation that you were clad only in your underwear, your unintended confession drawing heat to your cheeks as you moved away from the man.
"I, I was afraid."
Bill's own confession halted your movements, making you turn back around to look up at him, confused.
"I–, how do I say this. I was ashamed of myself."
It was now Bill's turn to feel vulnerable, his unease making him shift in the water, the water rippling around the two of you at his movements.
"That winter when you came back here, when you turned sixteen, I started seeing you as more than family. I– I found you attractive, and I felt disgusted with myself."
You huffed, disbelieving of the words you were hearing.
"I'm being serious Y/N. You just, grew up over those few months, and just came back different, somehow. I felt like a predator, I was twenty-three! You were still a kid, and I, I just didn't know what to do anymore."
"I wasn't a kid!"
"Of course you were! You were still in school, I'd been working for five years, I couldn't live with myself feeling like that. I didn't know what to do, so I just, distanced myself. Hoped that the feelings would go away eventually, then I'd just, go back to being normal."
Your eyes scanned the ginger's face, searching for a speck of a lie, a pinch of deception but only found uncertainty, attraction and lust dusting the man's face.
"But you never stopped..."
Your breath stopped for a moment as your eyes met.
"Are you being serious?"
His breath fanned your face as both of you instinctively moved closer towards each other, more of your body exposed to the world as you came further out of the water.
"As serious as I could be Y/N."
Your breath was taken away as Bill leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours, strands of ginger hair falling to tickle your face.
"Can I kiss you?"
A breathless whisper fell from Bill's lips, prompting you to nod in assent, the man falling to capture your lips before you even finished the move.
Sparks flew in that moment, the man's lips gliding over yours as he stole your breath away. You pulled apart after a second, before your lips fell back together again, insatiable in your desire to taste each other.
Bill's tongue teased you, mouth falling open for his teeth to graze at your lower lip, making you gasp such that your lips fell open in the same way, his hand moving to cup your jaw. Taking advantage of your momentary shock, the ginger slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny of you as you moaned into his lips, pressing your chest against his.
The water waded around you as Bill's left hand moved down your body, fitting snugly under your ass as he muttered a soft 'jump', which you obliged.
Your legs wrapped around the man's hips, Bill walking the two of you onto the soft grass, muttering a charm against your lips before placing you down.
Instead of feeling prickly blades of grass on your skin, a soft blanket had appeared, making you smile, pulling away from the man.
"Quite the romantic, Mr Weasley. Know how to treat a girl right don't you?"
A deep chuckle sounded from the man who hovered above you on his hands and knees, biting his lower lip at the sight of you.
"Only the best for my girl."
Your heart leapt at Bill’s words; were you his now?
Not wanting to dwell on it, to overthink this moment of passion, you pulled his lips back down onto yours.
His girl.
⚔︎
The moon hung high in the night sky as both your hands explored each other, frantic, as if it was your last day on Earth and you only had here and now to envelop yourselves in each other.
The pure animalistic need that pulsed through the two of you allowed no time for foreplay, fingers hooking into the soaking fabrics that clung to both of you.
“Can I?”
Bill fingered the waistband of your underwear, thumb brushing your hip bone with motions feather light, wildly disparate from the way his lips devoured yours hungrily.
One act designed to ruin you, the other almost afraid he’d break you.
“Yes, I need you.”
You deigned to show him just how much by hooking your own fingers into his waistband, soaked pajama pants pulled away to reveal his boxers, clinging to his muscular frame.
Bill responded by undressing you with much of the same vigour, moving to pull your underwear down to your ankles, his pants in very much the same state, gazing down at your soaked private with lust clouding his vision.
“Next time,” he breathed out onto your glistening lips, “I’ll make you cum with just my tongue.”
Your breath hitched at his words, no, his promise, of a next time as Bill made his way back up your body, peppering kisses on your exposed skin, his hard-on grinding against your leg as he moved up.
The cursebreaker’s deft hands unhooked your bra expertly, sucking in a breath as your pert nipples were revealed to him.
“Beautiful.” He mumbled, almost as if he was speaking to himself.
Bill moved to unclothe himself fully, before you stopped his movements, his hands already pulling at the waistband around his hips.
“May, may I?”
He nodded as you sat up, eyes glazed as he studied your body, memorising the way your breasts glistened in the moonlight. He would make it his mission to mark them, to show anyone who came near you that you were no one’s, but his.
You hooked your fingers into his boxers, pulling them down to his thighs at an almost agonising pace as every part of Bill was unveiled to you, standing proudly in the light.
“Are you... a virgin?”
The man above you asked as it dawned upon him. He was really about to have the girl he’d been craving for.
“No, I’m not.”
His jaw clenched at your admission, the thought of someone else’s hands on you ticking him off, before pushing it away.
It didn’t matter. You were with him now.
He nodded, coming back down to kiss you as one hand braced him by your head, the other reaching down to pump himself slowly.
Your hands wrapped around his neck, eyes falling closed as you immerse yourself in him.
Bill’s knee nudged your thighs apart, moving himself so he was lined up against you, hand brushing his cock up and down your lips, causing both of you to shudder.
His head dipped into you, your tight heat causing him to hiss, pausing for a moment to savour the feeling before pushing himself in fully, stopping only once he’d bottomed out.
“Are y’okay?”
You bit your lower lip as Bill moved away from you to scan your face for discomfort or pain. His girth, while not quite painful was definitely bordering on pain, your walls stretching as he filled you entirely.
“Yes, just, one second.”
Your hands gripped his neck, lacing your fingers through the tresses of his hair as you adjusted around him. As the pain receded, you nodded, a silent signal for the man to move.
He carefully pulled out of you, then pushed back in slowly, hands landing by your head to brace himself, testing the waters whilst both of you moaned at the feeling.
“Faster.”
Bill obliged, moving to thrust in and out of you at increasing speeds with each movement. His hips snapped against yours at a speed that could only be described as vicious, eliciting sounds that defiled the tranquil nature you were surrounded by.
You were breathless as the man thrusted in and out of you, his movements only capable of drawing pants and whimpers from your mouth, the activity rendering you a simpleton who knew only two words - ‘Bill’ and ‘please’.
Your climax soon drew close, a coil tightening with his every sound and every move, your body notifying the man above you by the clench of your walls around him, the motion drawing him closer to his own orgasm.
“Are you close baby?”
A nod was all you managed as you threw your head back, Bill’s tip brushing against your g-spot edging you even closer to your precipice.
One of Bill’s hands moved down your body, landing on the bundle of nerves above where the two of you met, rubbing figure eights onto you, making you let out a gasp of surprise as the older man helped you move closer to your orgasm.
His movements didn’t falter as your moans grew louder, seeming instead encouraged by the promise of your climax, your moans growing loud and unabashed.
Each pant of his name made the man groan in return, moving both his fingers and his hips so ferociously that your breasts bounced with each thrust, your back sure to be red and chafed in the morning from the friction against the blanket.
But you didn’t care - the only thoughts you were capable of manifesting was how good it felt to have Bill inside you, how this was the one thing you’d ever needed to feel full, how he never stopped in his stimulation, the way his mouth felt on your nipples - sucking on the skin of your breasts, a reminder that would last of this fleeting night.
As Bill stimulated you with his cock, his fingers, his mouth, you couldn’t hold it in any longer - and you could tell Bill was reaching his breaking point as well - you let out a moan that would awaken the sleeping birds in the tree nearby, a scream of “Bill” that would leave the twins wondering why your voice was hoarse in the morning left you, legs trembling as you released around the man.
Yet he still never relented.
As you rode out your orgasm, your cunt throbbing, Bill never faltered in his actions, hips thrusting into you as he bit into your neck softly, intent on marking you for all to see as his cock twitched inside of you.
With a moan that you could only describe as sinful, yet angelic, a sound that would haunt your dreams and bless your nightmares, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, Bill came into you. Hot stripes of white liquid coating your walls while his thrusts slowed to a stop.
Getting up on trembling hands, Bill hovered above you, exiting you in a slow movement that had you whimpering at the sudden emptiness, your eyes still shut from your post-orgasmic bliss.
Lips pressed onto your forehead, as if Bill was savouring something he didn’t want to lose.
Something you didn’t want to lose either.
⚔︎
The flight back to the Burrow was silent, the two of you side by side as you flew through the wilderness of Ottery St. Catchpole.
When you landed, you looked out onto the nature around you, Bill landing almost immediately after you.
In the distance, you could see the sun readying to rise in the East, colours bleeding into the sky that had been pitch dark save for the spattered stars hours ago.
“Did you regret that?”
The man standing beside you asked after a moment of silence, not daring to meet your eyes as he appeared vulnerable, afraid, feigning an interest in the rising sun.
His muscular arm was what you were faced with as you turned towards him, his tall stature casting a shadow over you. You eyed the red marks you’d left on him, the little reminders scattered on his shoulders and back.
“No. Did you?”
The cursebreaker turned to face you, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched you, scanning your face for the umpteenth time that night.
“Of course not.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, drawing Bill’s gaze down towards them, a small smile telling you he was admiring the slowly darkening marks he’d left on you.
“Then why’d you assume I would’ve?”
He caught his lower lip between his teeth, gnawing on it absentmindedly as he shrugged.
“I dunno. Just assumed you wouldn’t have wanted that with an older man or somethin’, I s’just worried, s’all.”
You inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh as you reached out towards the man, cupping a hand on either side of his chiseled jaw, making him look into your eyes.
“Bill, that was my decision to make. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I wouldn’t’ve done it. It’s not your place to decide for me whether I wanted it.”
You leaned in to capture his lips in yours; this time deepening the kiss on your terms, slipping your tongue into his mouth and savouring his taste.
Cinnamon, with a hint of mint and tobacco.
You pulled away, tracing your lips to the sweet spot under his ear, sucking softly before turning to whisper in his ear.
“I wanted it, and I’ve wanted you for longer than you could have known.”
part two out now x
999 notes · View notes
weasleylangs · 3 years
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dirty little secret / g.w
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‘i go around a time or two, just to waste my time with you’ 
Summary: Being friends with benefits was a mutual decision, a way to relieve stress when needed after a stressful twelve months. It was decided it was just between them, not to be anybodies business but George and Y/N’s, but she doesn’t want to be his dirty little secret anymore. Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI !! no graphic depictions of sex but there’s one really fucking steamy kiss and sex & fwb situations/hookup culture is discussed heavily, sweet aftercare for both reader and George, jealousy & possession (nothing toxic), alcohol / drinking, food.  Word Count: 5.6k AUTHORS NOTE / aaaaa the first instalment for my pop punk series!!! this one is based off dirty little secret by the all american rejects! im going to kiss @weelittleweasley for helping me write the steamy kiss btw!!!!!
POP PUNK COLLECTION 
(all 18+) taglist / @spacexcowgirl @weelittleweasley​ @lumos-barnes​ @butterflybuchanan​ @levylovegood​ @omghufflepuff​ @mitsukui​ 
----------
Y/N hears George when he reenters her room, a glass of water in one of his hands, a washcloth in the other. Her legs still feel slightly numb from the pleasure she had just been on the receiving end of, a blissed-out expression on her face as she makes grabby hands towards the man in her doorway. 
George smiles dopily down at her, helping her sit up before handing her the glass of water. “How are you feeling?” he asks, checking in as he starts to help clean Y/N up. He quickly stops when she winces, scared he hurt her. “Fuck, sorry,” he whispers, pulling his hand away but when she laughs and grabs his hand, he relaxes.
“It’s fine,” she smiles, the look of euphoria still gracing her facial features. “Just a little sensitive,” she says honestly. George nods slightly, a proud smile on his lips as he goes back to cleaning her skin, taking extra care in areas where Y/N would be sensitive. 
He’s always like this after sex, making sure she’s okay. It’s a part of the reason why Y/N agreed on being friends with benefits with him in the first place, he’s the most trustworthy person she knows. 
It all started when they were twenty-one; the war had finished, their loved ones were safe and they so desperately needed to unwind in a very specific way after the stress of the previous twelve months. It was a mistake at first, two best friends drunkenly joking about sleeping together and the next thing they knew, they were rolling in the sheets together. Y/N was positive she ruined her longest friendship, but when George began his own personal ritual of aftercare, she knew she couldn’t let him go easily. 
This is why when the preposition of friends with benefits was put on the table by George, she immediately took it; six months later they’re still sleeping together, and even though her feelings for George are evergrowing, she’s happy with their current situation. 
“You sure you’re okay?” George presses when he’s noticed Y/N’s eyes glazed over. He’s worried he went a little harder than usual tonight. The stress of getting the joke shop back up and running has been getting to him and he needed a release of pressure in more ways than one.  
“Yes, I’m sure,” she says, taking George’s hand in her own before pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles that causes a soft red hue to develop across his freckled cheeks. That’s something else she’s learnt about George since she began sleeping with him; he needs aftercare for himself just as much herself, and he mostly needs it in some form of physical affection. “Just thinking, nothing bad. I promise.” 
George nods asking if Y/N’s good to be picked up. She giggles when she realises he’s taking her to the bathroom so she can pee. He sits her down on the toilet before turning around and gasping as he sees his reflection in the mirror. “Fuck woman,” he exclaims, before twisting his body so he can see the scratches that start at his shoulders and trail down his back. “Were you trying to rip me apart?” 
He hears a giggle come from behind him, quickly followed by a toilet flushing. He feels her frame push past him so she can wash her hands and when she reaches to grab some cream to put on George’s back she lets out her own gasp.
“George Fabian Weasley, what the fuck?” Her neck has a hickey, and not just a small one. She’s beginning to question whether George is part vampire when she looks up at him and he’s smirking at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s Spring! I have lunch with Angie tomorrow! I can’t cover these!”
George almost feels bad, but his admiration for his work on her neck is slightly winning over his guilt. “I’m sorry, darling,” it’s genuine and they both know it when Y/N’s scowl falters slightly, threatening to smile.
“No, you’re not,” she says, grabbing the cream for his back and pushing him back into her bedroom. Before she begins to help George, she stands in front of her drawers, grabbing clothes to put on now she’s come out of her post-sex haze. She hears the redhead behind her chuckle when he recognises the sweater she puts on as his own as he puts his own boxers back on. “But I guess it’s payback. Your back’s going to hurt tomorrow and Fred’s going to wonder why.”
None of their friends are aware of... their arrangement. They agreed, knowing they would make it weird. After all, Fred’s engaged to his long term girlfriend from their Hogwarts years and their other friends have all started putting themselves out there, so it’s safe to say, they’re the last two to start to settle down. 
But they like their current relationship; it’s carefree, it’s simple, it’s not complicated like a proper relationship and if they’re honest, they get some mindblowing sex out of it. So it’s not anybody’s business but each other’s. 
After a while, Y/N’s finished putting the cream on George’s back. She spent the time mumbling apologies whenever George winces, she didn’t realise how hard she was going so she makes a mental note to not rip apart his back the next time they see each other. She presses a gentle kiss to the base of George’s neck, something she doesn’t think too much about but it feels like it’s blurring the lines between romantic and platonic right now and she feels herself panic a tiny bit.
“Do you work tomorrow?” She asks George, who hums in agreement. His eyes are droopy like he’s almost falling asleep and Y/N expected this. He’s putty in anybody’s hands the second you start trailing your hands gently up any part of his body, specifically his back. “Are you sleeping here tonight?” she giggles as she asks and George sighs. 
“I probably shouldn't but-” he cuts himself off with a yawn before rolling over onto his back. “Your bed is just so much more comfortable than mine.” 
Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing him slightly before jumping off the bed and leaving George to frown at her when she moves from her spot next to him. She grabs her wand from her bedside table, walking through her flat to make sure all her lights are turned off before enchanting ‘lumos’ so she can light her way back to her bedroom. 
“You’re letting me stay?” She nods at his words, crawling into bed with him. While she knows George is a sucker for physical affection, Y/N is also well aware he hates sleeping cuddled up to people so she gives him his space in the bed. Because of this, she doesn’t expect George to shift his body so even though they’re not cuddling, they’re still close, a simple form of comfort that neither of them can decipher as platonic or romantic.
“Yes, you can stay,” she says, rubbing her thumb along George’s hand as a way of saying goodnight, “but you wake me up before 9am tomorrow and you die.” 
-----
When Y/N wakes up the next morning to her alarm going off, the side of the bed is empty and cold. Her alarm clock reads 10:30am, so she knows George has been gone for a few hours at this point. She feels a small sense of sadness, remembering how fun the mornings are the times George sleeps over and stays until she wakes up. 
She sighs, deciding there’s no point in dwelling on George’s absence. When she walks into her kitchen, she checks her kettle; cursing George when she finds it empty because she knows he just had to have a cup of tea before leaving this morning and rolls her eyes as she fills it herself. Her kettle’s boiling as she potters around when she spots a piece of paper with George’s writing all over it. 
‘George’s excuses for the hickeys’ the note reads in his messy scrawl, and Y/N has to stifle a cackle before she continues to read. ‘1. ran into a door’ is scratched out immediately and she knows George probably thought it was a good idea at first before realising the hickeys are on her neck, so the running into the door isn't feasible. ‘2. bug’ is the next one and she has to stop herself from rolling her eyes and when she goes back to George’s oh so incredible list, her breath hitches. 
‘3. be honest and say you hooked up with someone’ makes Y/N’s heart sink. She hasn’t slept with anyone besides George in the past six months, hasn’t wanted to either for that matter, but it makes her realise something. 
She doesn’t know if George is the same. 
She’s well aware of their situation and the lack of commitment outside of promising to come over later, but her emotions hit her harder than she thought they would. While she wouldn’t complain if she and George became something more, she knows it’s not what either of them is looking for at the moment, so she doesn’t understand why she’s so hurt. Does George think I shag other people? she thinks before the kettle starts to hiss to indicate the water is boiled and she’s brought back to reality. 
After drinking her tea, Y/N begins to get ready, trying her best to cover the purple bruises littering her neck and trying to keep herself under control while she admires them in the mirror. Soon enough, she’s out the door and making her way to Diagon Alley where she spots Angie, talking with Fred.
“Y/N!” Fred exclaims as she gets closer and waves frantically as she walks towards them. “We’re just talking about how we think George has a bird!” Y/N chokes on air, her brows furrowing at Fred’s words. They’ve been so careful, a bit too careful when it comes to hiding their relationship from their friends so she doesn’t understand.
“Why do you think that?” Her tone is casual, trying to act natural as she tries to find out what signs could point to their... activities being exposed, and to his brother of all people.
Fred starts laughing again, holding his stomach as he tries to tell the story. “He didn’t come home last night- I only noticed because I was up at 3 and his bedroom door was open which was weird because he didn’t tell me he was going out!” Fred’s animated when he’s talking, taking a sip of his drink and using his free hand to emphasise his story. “And when he was reaching for something in a closet today he winced, like his back hurt!” 
Y/N stares at Fred blankly, memories of the night before flooding her memory when Fred mentions George wincing. She knows now is not the time to start thinking about how good George made her feel last night. “What does wincing have to do with anything?” 
She knows she made a mistake when Fred’s eyes widen, staring at her. “Well, my dear prude Y/N, my back only hurts when it’s scratched up from a good fu-” 
“Okay, we do not need to hear about your sex life,” Angie says, grabbing Y/N by the shoulders and steering her off. “We have a lunch date that you’re not invited to.” She’s smiling when she says it and when Fred bids the two girls goodbye, Angie calls out something about making fun of George for her. 
She’s quiet on the walk to the cafe she and Angelina have planned for lunch, lost in thoughts. She’s stuck on the idea of George sleeping with other people even though she knows she was the one with George last night, that she was the one scratching up his back. They walk in tandem, Angelina raving about Quidditch while Y/N nodded in acknowledgement at appropriate times. 
Eventually, they reach the cafe, quickly taking a seat and looking at the menu. It’s then when Angelina’s hand pulls the menu down from Y/N’s face and she’s giving the girl a questioning look.
“What’s wrong?” She asks.
Y/N stares at her, not understanding how she did anything to convey any feeling at all, let alone a feeling of something being wrong. She’s about to deny it when she looks Angelina in the eye, and she realises she can’t lie to her because she’d be questioned for the rest of lunch. “Do you think George has a friend with benefits?”
Angelina giggles at Y/N’s words, smiling slightly. “I know you’re sleeping with him.” She says it so casually that Y/N doesn’t even process what she said for a few beats. She half expected her friend to admit she was also sleeping with George, after all, she used to suspect they had a thing when they were teenagers but this is the last thing she expected. 
She’s so baffled she can’t even deny it, no words leaving her mouth for a second before she just stares at Angelina, “How?”
Angelina keeps smiling, quickly ordering their drinks when the waitress comes over and requests a little longer to decide on food before turning back to her friend sitting dumbfounded across the table. “Fred might be stupid and oblivious, but I’m not. I see the way he looks at you.” 
Y/N doesn’t think George looks at her in any particular way, at least he doesn’t when she isn’t under him and she notices Angelina’s eyes soften when Y/N doesn’t say anything. “You didn’t know before sleeping with him?”
“Didn’t know what before sleeping with him?”
“That he likes you?” Y/N thinks Angelina’s being stupid; it’s always been her liking George and George not noticing, not the other way around. George has always been sweet and gentle in bed, way nicer and way more giving than any other romantic partner in her past, but she’s always chalked it up to him just being George. That’s how she’s always known him, how she knew him when they met at 11, how she knew him on the Quidditch pitch when they were 15 and how she knows him now, at 22 and in his bed. 
“He doesn’t like me, you’re just making stuff up!” She’s adamant Angelina’s just messing with her but Angelina just sighs, obviously ready to move on from the topic. “He doesn’t,” she whispers to no one in particular and she feels Angelina grab her hand, rubbing a thumb across the top in a comforting kind of way.
“I guess it’s not my place to say,” she starts, “but I’ve never seen George treat someone else like the way he treats you. It’s like... It’s like you’re glass, that he’s scared of breaking you and you have to be in his sights at all times.” It’s soft and Y/N knows it’s genuine as much as she hates to admit it. 
The conversation changes, thankfully putting Y/N and George out of the hot seat but she’s hanging onto every word of Angelina’s, suddenly overthinking every interaction she’s had with the redhead in the past few months. Panic starts to set in and it only gets worse when Angelina bids her goodbye.
Her thoughts are loud; does she like George or does she like the way George makes her feel? What if George has liked her this entire time and she’s mistaken her feelings for romantic when they’re purely physical? 
As she wonders, she realises she’s being stupid. Y/N knows she likes George, she’s liked George for so long and she likes him so much it hurts. That’s when a new thought arrives, a more sinister thought, a meaner thought; What if Angelina is just completely wrong, that’s always a possibility. What if George doesn’t like her back at all. 
-----
She wanders Diagon Alley, making her way to the Apothecary after remembering she needs some more Valerian sprigs to make a new batch of the Potion for Dreamless Sleep. She’s muttering to herself as she wanders the store, thinking about how these days her best night's sleep are spent besides George but the thought is quickly pushed away when she spots her ingredient of choice and she can barely reach it. 
“Fuck,” she mutters, looking around for a stool or a shop assistant so she can finally get out of Diagon Alley. She’s about to give up and leave herself when she’s met with a tough body slamming into her own. Apologies spill from her mouth quickly, feeling terrible she almost knocked this poor guy over in the middle of the Apothecary but when she looks up, George is looking down at her.
“What do you need, darling?” The nickname makes her heart race and she only hopes George can’t hear it seconds away from beating from her chest. She doesn’t respond immediately, preoccupied with how nice he looks and it’s not until he waves in front of her face that she responds.
“Sorry,” she says, shaking her head in a way to push away her thoughts, “was looking for some Valerian sprigs.” She hopes George minds his own business, memories from her meeting with Angelina flooding her thoughts. She starts to over analyse the way George looks at her, whether it’s as if she’s glass, like Angelina claims but when she looks at George, he’s reaching up and grabbing the jar for her.
“Treacle fudge?” He questions, and it takes her a moment to process he’s asking why she needs the ingredient. 
“Dreamless Sleep,” she replies, embarrassed. She’s never needed a sleeping potion when George is around, his presence alone is enough to fight off any unwanted nightmares but that’s the last thing he needs to know. Thankfully, he doesn’t comment, just puts the jar back up on the shelf when she’s done and motions for her to follow him around the store. 
He stops in front of the rose thorns, silently debating how many to get when he feels Y/N’s eyes on him. “Love potion, for WonderWitch,” he says, grabbing some and putting them in a bag before making his way to the counter. He grabs the Valerian sprigs from Y/N’s hand, placing them alongside his rose thorns and ignoring her protests when he hands some Galleons to the shopkeeper. 
“I get a discount,” he says when they exit the shop, “plus, I didn’t mind.” Y/N stares at him, not able to read a single emotion on his face. She thanks him and takes the Valerian sprigs from him and places them in her bag. 
“Do you wanna come over tonight?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fred won’t be home.” His cheeks are flushed red, almost like he’s shy asking to see her for the second night in a row. The word ‘yes’ is on the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill out without her permission. She badly wants to let the word slip as well, but her thoughts from earlier come to the forefront once again and at this moment, Y/N can’t seem to convince herself that George wants her in the same way she wants him.
“No, sorry,” she says bluntly, and she doesn’t miss the look of shock on his face. Y/N has never turned George down and while he respects her no, it confuses him nonetheless. “Just... Not feeling well. You know?”
Y/N knows George doesn’t believe her, she sees it in his eyes, but he hums in acknowledgement before lifting his wrist and checking his watch. “Look, I’ve gotta go, Fred’s going to kill me,” the words are forced like he wants to stay and make sure everything is okay between the pair and he’s being pulled away too soon. “I’ll see you sometime this week, yeah?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Y/N says, knowing he doesn’t mean sometime this week in his bed, but the thought happens before she can stop it and it’s right now she realises she needs to push George away before she gets more hurt. 
-----
It’s been a week since Y/N turned down George’s offer to come over that night, and she has a feeling he’s avoiding her. Usually, when Y/N denies him it only takes him a few days before he comes crawling back or vice versa; they’ve never been able to go long without falling into bed together, the co-dependency on each other for a hook up was one they never discussed, but was known, so the fact George didn’t end up in her bed during the week makes her painfully aware something is wrong and even though she knows it’s her own fault, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.  
The suspicion is only confirmed when she’s dragged to a bar in Muggle London on the following Saturday night. Angie, Katie and Alicia’s complaints that Y/N’s been too high strung this week getting to her and their peer pressure eventually worked. She doesn’t mind the bar- it’s not too busy but it’s still got enough people in it for a good time and Katie and Lee are getting everyone drinks when Y/N spots a head of bright, auburn hair across the room. 
She doesn’t even think twice before knowing it’s George, and it’s got nothing to do with the girl next to him, hanging off every word he’s saying not being Fred’s fiancée. The way she feels in her entire body when she spots him, the ache in her heart she feels is what confirms it’s George. He’s the only person to ever have this kind of power over her and at this moment, she wishes he didn’t. 
Because George is flirting with the girl next to him and she’s batting her eyelashes, clearly happy with the attention the cute redhead is giving her and Y/N wants nothing more than to be in her place and it hurts, even more, knowing she usually is in her place. George is a lot more comfortable talking sex once he has a few glasses of whiskey, so the flirting gets turned up to an eleven and all their friends laugh at his forwardness. 
Angelina sees Y/N staring longingly at the younger twin and without words she knows something is wrong. So she grabs the tequila from Katie and places it in front of Y/N. “Drink it.” She looks at Angelina, confused why her attention was stolen from George but smiles happily when the shot glass is in her hand. 
It burns as it slides down her throat, after all, tequila always does. She quickly takes the lemon from whoever’s holding it out to her, pulling a face as the sourness meets her taste buds. Angelina, Katie and Alicia and hollering when she looks back at them, her friends successfully stealing her attention from George as they drag her to the dancefloor. ABBA is playing over the loudspeaker, and the girls yell in excitement, they would never pass up the opportunity to dance to ABBA; memories of post-Quidditch parties and sneaking Firewhiskey into the Gryffindor Common Room coming to the forefront of their minds. 
They dance for who knows how long with Lee joining them as he dances between Alicia and Katie, playing up the ladies’ man role. It makes Y/N laugh, Lee clearly loving the attention from the girls but it’s at that moment she spots George and the girl from earlier, dancing; George’s hands are on her hips, respectful but holding her close and it fills Y/N with a feeling so horrible, she has to turn around to push the vile, green monster back down. 
Thankfully, or not so thankfully, she’s not entirely sure just yet, she turns to face a guy. He’s cute, got a puppy dog look about him and he smiles at Y/N in a way that indicates he’s asking to dance. She says yes, of course, and her hands wrap around his neck. She hates that she’s spending this time dancing with him comparing him to George; his hands aren’t as calloused, he smells like mint as opposed to the familiar scent of cinnamon and Earl Grey tea, her heart isn't racing like it would if she was with the redhead. 
George sees her across the dance floor because his eyes haven’t left her all night. He knows he’s leading this poor girl on, Bianca is her name; he’s not going to end up taking her home like he knows she’s hoping, but he needed a distraction. When he sees Y/N starting to dance with a guy, his jaw tenses and his eyes narrow; he knows he’s being stubborn. If he just talked to Y/N everything would be sorted but he doesn’t want to be the one to break, he wants Y/N to come to him, to want him. 
Their eyes meet across the dance floor, the guy’s head dipping into the crook of Y/N’s neck, his arm is wrapped around her waist as her back is pressed against his chest, grinding her bum onto his crotch. She tries to look away from George but she can’t, his eyes are enchanting and this is the most attention they’ve gotten from each other since that day in Diagon Alley. George whispers something into the girl’s ear, his grip on her hips getting tighter but his eyes never leave Y/N’s. 
It’s Y/N who breaks eye contact, her head falling back onto her dance partner’s shoulder and when George sees open mouth kisses pressed to Y/N’s neck, he snaps. He mutters an excuse to Bianca and walks as fast as he can to the girl he wants. He sees his friends snickering at each other as they dance but no one says anything.
She feels his presence before she feels him grab her wrist, so he doesn’t scare her. Her head immediately pops up, looking George in the eye. “Oi, nah. I had her first,” the guy behind Y/N says, his grip visually tightening on Y/N as if she’s a toy and George is coming to steal it, but he has to stifle a laugh; the guy’s confident, George’ll give him that.
“Nah, mate,” he starts, the music changing to a more sensual R&B song as he speaks. He sees Y/N blush at his simple words and he gently tugs at her wrist again, not in a demanding kind of way; he’s asking, pleading her to follow him and when she steps away from the guy she was dancing with, she mutters an apology before letting George drag her where he wants to go. 
----
They don’t even say two words to each other once they’re in the bathroom together. George pulls her inside quickly, before pushing her up against the door, attaching his lips immediately to her neck before he gently sucks and bites, subconsciously leaving a small hickey like it's the most natural thing in the world for him to do. She’s missed having him this close so when her fingers rake through his long hair, she gives it a gentle tug before pulling his mouth up to her own, wanting to kiss him with everything she has, needing him even closer. He obliges of course, always happy to give Y/N what she wants.
When George’s lips finally meet hers, he’s kissing her like it’s the last time they’ll ever kiss; it’s messy, desperate, like most of their kisses are, hands gripping wherever they can just to ensure the other isn’t leaving. George is intoxicating to Y/N like she can get drunk from the taste of his whiskey covered lips alone and her head spins when she feels his hands rake up her body, grasping her waist and pushing her harder against the door. A small moan leaving Y/N’s lips is all George needs to force his tongue into her mouth, massaging their tongues together and she tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck again, desperately needing him as close as humanly possible without defiling this public bathroom. The action makes George whimper, loving nothing more than having her fingers tugging at his auburn locks and it gives her a slight power trip. Just a slight one, as she tries to take control of the kiss. 
It doesn’t last long because before she knows it, she’s whimpering under his touch and surrendering everything she has to him as his hands caress her body, grabbing and pulling her to him wherever possible. His hands eventually land on her thighs, and when he grabs them and hoists her up, her legs immediately wrap around his waist. The action alongside the pressure on her crotch makes her moan and she feels George smirk at her noises, obviously feeling proud of being the only person to be able to do this to her. He pivots slightly once he’s holding her, placing Y/N on the counter next to the sink so they’re finally level to kiss comfortably. 
He keeps his spot between her legs, refusing to detach his lips from hers, his hands crawling from her thighs to tightly grasp her hips. If it was any other day, Y/N would’ve said something, telling him to be careful of bruises but right now, after watching him flirt with the girl out in the bar for hours on end, there’s nothing she wants, no needs, more than George marking her in every way he can. 
“Mine,” she moans without thinking, as his lips leave hers, slowly making their way across her jaw and onto her neck once again, licking, biting, sucking. George has always loved her neck and he knows how much she loves having her neck touched. “You’re mine,” she repeats when George doesn’t immediately push her away, and she doesn’t even have time to decide to panic before she hears a groan in her ear.
“Yours,” he whispers, his hot breath causing goosebumps to prickle along her skin. The words don’t even process in her brain before she feels George pull away from her. The lack of contact makes her whine, she never wants to be far away from George ever again but he smiles, presses the most gentle kiss on her lips before looking her directly in her eyes, “I’m yours.” 
Her heart stops, she never thought for a second she’d hear George mutter those words, let alone in a dingey, small bathroom of a bar in Central London, but here it is. “Don’t play with me, Georgie,” she whispers. From her spot on the counter, she can look him directly in the eyes; his cheeks are flushed red, his pupils are blown, lips swollen and red. His hair has gotten messy from her pulling at it but she can’t bring herself to feel bad that she ruined his perfectly styled hair because at this moment, she thinks this is the most beautiful she’s ever seen him, so vulnerable and the look of adoration in his eyes fills her chest with hope. 
“Would I ever play with you, darling?” He asks, his words are sincere and she knows it. It’s soft, reminiscent of all those times he’s looked after her after having sex, when he promises to look after her, always. 
“I’d hope not, I was having fun with…” She trails off, realising she never caught his name before she starts laughing. She feels George’s hands tighten against her thighs, hyperaware of his touch on her skin and she grabs one of his hands. “I didn’t actually know his name. I was pretending he was you.”
She says it so softly she wouldn’t be shocked if he missed it, but he didn’t. He hangs to every word she says, he always does and when he smiles, Y/N feels herself relax. “I was using Bianca to make you jealous,” he admits, laughing to himself. He knew the pair of them were being stupid, that they could have just talked but the fear of rejection clearly got the best of both of them. 
“I’ve liked you for so long, and maybe I shouldn't have put friends with benefits on the table knowing that, but I needed you.” He’s never spoken truer words, his left hand leaving her thigh and gently caressing her cheek. Her makeups smudged from both the sweat from dancing and the desperation from not even five minutes ago, her hairs messy and her lips are swollen just as much as his but he wants to take her home, right this second, and show her in so many ways how much he loves her.
“I like you, too.” 
His eyes prick up at her words and he didn’t realise he wasn’t holding eye contact until now. She takes her own left hand and mirrors George’s action on himself; hoping to convey everything she’s felt for him through nothing but looks. “I had to back away last week, I thought I had to get over you. Angie said some dumb shit and I started to overthink and I’m so-”
He cuts her off with a kiss and it’s so different to their usual ones. It’s soft and gentle like they could stay here for hours doing nothing but kissing and they’d be perfectly content. George pulls her body closer to his, desperate just to have her near when he pulls away, pressing his forward to hers. “Don’t say sorry, please.” 
She opens her mouth again to speak and that’s when he cuts her off again, with another kiss. This happens a few times before Y/N is a giggling mess and George is just kissing her for the sake of having their lips pressed together. “We know now, that’s all I care about.” 
This makes her smile and her heart soar; the boy she’s loved for so long, liking her back once felt like it could only be a dream, and she has to pinch herself multiple times before she finally believes it’s her reality.
They soon realise they’ve been standing in this dirty, bar bathroom for way too long and George helps her down, grabbing her by the hips to stabilise her when her legs slightly give out. He takes her hand in his, softly kissing her knuckles before he opens the bathroom door to sneak out. “My place or yours?” he asks, but he quickly stops, “I’m not expecting to fuck, but like I mean if it happens it happens but- Godric, we can just hang out I’m happy with that unless you want to fuck-”
Y/N’s giggling at his stumbling around on words and she shushes him slightly, his face going bright red when she's the one leaning to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His face is bright red when she speaks, “My place. I live alone.” she winks and runs off after saying this, George hot on her tails and even though there’s music and George’s favourite song is playing, Y/N’s laugh as he chases her out of the bar is his favourite noise. 
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writings-05 · 2 years
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New faces (07)
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Hey guys, part 7 is here! Sorry it took some time and it's a bit short, but enjoy!!!
Suggestions for fluff scenarios that you would want me to include into this fic are still open (this is a zoro x reader btw)
Previous chapters :
New faces (01)
New faces (02)
New faces (03)
New faces (04)
New faces (05)
New faces (06)
Description : finally getting some bonding time between Zoro and y/n
TW : none
1406 words
You made sure you paid attention to both the path on which you were walking and also the cherry blossoms around you because seriously it all looked at pretty! Zoro was still behind you, he kept an eye on you (knowing how clumsy you actually are now lmao). You guys arrived at the top of the hill and the sun already started setting “Oh wait didn’t Nami say that we have to be back on the ship after 3 hours ??” you said as you quickly turned around to talk to Zoro, little did you know the man was right behind you which meant you ended up right in front of him.. like literally in front of him. You took a couple of steps back before you would bump into his chest. “Ah… you’re right, well it’s too late to go back now so we might as well spend the night here.” “EXCUSE ME ? Spend the night here ??? in the middle of literally nowhere?” you screamed a bit unintentionally (maybe), you just couldn’t understand what was going and your shyness was NOT going away… spending the night with him djhsfjhif stop stop these thoughts. “Could you not scream woman? Yes spend the night here, why ? you scared something is going to happen mh?” Zoro asked you with a smirk on his face “Hellll nooo calm down, I was asking because who knows if an enemy or something comes out at night to attack us?” “Don’t worry… I’ll be here to protect you.” And he just kept on walking around the top of the hill as he just said those words so calmly, but you? Oh your heart was about to jump out. Honestly you weren’t really afraid, you were confident in yours and Zoro’s skills to take down anyone really, ah shit you felt your cheeks becoming warm again, you quickly tried to calm yourself down before he realised.
Both of you were trying to gather stuff to be able to spend the night, it wasn’t that cold but you still had to light a fire and catch something to eat. Well thank god all those years of camping with your dad came in handy today, Zoro was not doing much honestly the man couldn’t do ANYTHING, but you didn’t mind. You caught a couple of fish in the river and then started setting up the fire to grill it all. Zoro was surprised really, he hadn’t thought through the whole idea of spending the night, he really had no idea how you guys were gonna find something to eat or what to do if it got cold. But thankfully you had everything under control and he just kept on watching you. He had tried to help you out but as soon as he almost fell into the river you quickly told him to stop and that you’ll handle it. You laughed out loud so hard when he was about to fall and all Zoro could think about at that moment is how much he wanted to hear your laugh all the time. He was impressed by you and all that you could do really. You just kept drawing him in and you didn’t even notice it and honestly neither did he..
“Okayyy here’s your grilled fish!” you said with a smile as you handed over the fish to Zoro, yep you were proud of yourself (so was Zoro lol). You saw that he hadn’t yet taken the fish into his hand so you just looked at him, but he was already staring at you. He had a light smile on his face as his eyes looked into yours “Thanks” he said as he took the fish in his hand and started to eat. You quickly averted your gaze onto the other fish you were grilling. “How come you know how to do so many things?” Zoro asked “Ah well when I was younger my dad would take us all camping, except he didn’t want us to just sit around and do nothing, he wanted us to learn different things. Hahaha I never knew these things would come in handy when I would join a pirate crew.” “I see.” And that’s all he said as he kept on eating his fish. You were both eating in silence the only sound you could hear was the fire. The silence was comfortable to your surprise, but then you realised you don’t know much about the crew so you started asking Zoro a couple of questions. Little did you know you both diverted from the main conversation and started talking about everything and anything really, you would make jokes, laugh together, it was really a great time.
Suddenly, he asked the same question he had asked you before “Tell me y/n, why are you so shy around me?” “Oh, um well I don’t know really I just don’t wanna offend you or anything or say something stupid or clumsy.” You answered, it was true, you didn’t know why. You could see Zoro was still a bit confused and it seemed like he might think it’s his fault, that he made you feel uncomfortable. So you added “But… that doesn’t mean I feel uncomfortable around you! On the contrary I feel comfortable and evens safe...” you said but quickly put you mouth on your hand, dang it why did you say that now he might feel burdened !!! you thought. “Oh okay.” Is all he said. “Gosh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable now, it’s just that I know that is I ever need to count on you to help me out I can because well you’re a swordsman and-“ “I understand don’t worry” he cut you off “Honestly… gosh why is it so hard to say…I… I also feel like protecting you when you’re around me and ifeelverycomfortablearoundyou.” He quickly said the last part. You just looked at him surprised and you started to laugh because he was the one who was turning red now “Okay okay well thank you really I’m grateful.” You said with a warm smile and Zoro just couldn’t stop looking at you. You both kept on laughing and talking about stuff as the night was going by.
The next morning you woke up as your head was against something soft but hard at the same time, it was someone’s shoulder you were leaning into, OMG IT WAS ZORO you thought as you slowly remembered what happened last night. You had fallen asleep next to him oh gosh. You got up and stretched as you felt every bone in your body cracking, “Good morning” Zoro said, you didn’t think he was awake so he startled you a bit “Good morning” you said as you looked around “We gotta go back to the ship!” you suddenly realised as you started running down the hill “YA DON’T RUN YOU’RE GONNA FALL!” he screamed as you ran. "DON'T WORRY I WON'T!!" you screamed back but he was already behind you ready to catch you if you did fall... which you nearly did but thankfully he quickly caught you before you hit the ground. You just laughed as you kept on running leaving a dumbfounded Zoro behind, were you testing him or what he thought.
You quickly reached the ship where the others were waiting for the both of you. "Finally you're here!" Nami said, but they all had some sort of smirk on their faces, wait... WAIT did they do this on purpose?? nooo they wouldn't.. or would they? "Why are you all smiling weirdly like that?" Zoro came behind you and asked. "Oh nothing don't worry come on let's go!" Nami said. You caught up with them and went up to Luffy and apologised for being late "Late? No you were right on time, we let you guys have some time alone so hopefully you'll get closer shishishi." and then Nami came behind him and hit him on the head, poor captain you thought "You really can't keep a secret can you!?" she said "What? so you did this on purpose??" "Well kind of, it was my idea so if you want to get mad you can." Nami said "No.. it was fun honestly." you said. Her eyes lit up as she looked at you "TELL ME EVERYTHING" she said as she pulled you and Robin into your room.
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duffs-shot-glass · 3 years
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The Promise (Slash x *daughter!* reader)
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*photo not mine, found on pinterest, credit to owner*
The Promise
Slash x (daughter!) reader
Fluff
WARNINGS: profanities, mentions of alcohol and drug use
Word Count:1,121
Requested by: someone on wattpad <3
This was a request for a Slash x daughter imagine where the reader and slash have a conflict/fight :)
I know this might be kind of short so I’m sorry about that. Hopefully you enjoy it though! Also, I did this in Y/N’s POV hopefully that’s okay. Thanks for teh request, have a great day/night! <3
Y/N’s POV:
I stared at myself in the vanity mirror as I tried to come up with an idea. It felt like the bruise on my neck was staring at me, waiting for me to freak out. The concealer sitting in my makeup case seemed very tempting. I told myself I needed to tell him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. How would he react? I know he did a lot of things when he was younger, but that doesn’t mean he wants me to do them. After one last look at the hickey I made up my mind. I’m hiding it. Maybe someday I would tell him I had it, or maybe he’d find out before it was gone. As of right now, makeup would have to do. The makeup was cold on my skin. I watched as the dark red and purple spot slowly disappeared from my sight. “Y/N! You ready?” My father’s voice echoed in the staircase as I frantically put away my makeup. I knocked over many products as I struggled to hide my tiny accomplice. “I’m coming!” I yelled. Tonight was our weekly movie night. Every Saturday my father and I would watch a movie and catch up with each other. I took a deep breath and made my way downstairs. The maple wood of the stairs slightly shone beneath my feet. My dad was standing in the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn. “You excited kiddo?” His face lit up as he saw me. “Yep.” I nodded my head slightly and made my way to the couch in the living room. My dad grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. “So, how was Jessica’s house?” shit. Jessica was my best friend. I was supposed to stay the night with her last night, but that isn’t what happened. Jessica’s parents were out of town and we took advantage of that. We threw a party and somehow I ended up with a hickey. When I woke up this morning I was in Jessica’s room on the floor with a massive headache. I barely remembered anything from the previous night. When I discovered I had a hickey I completely freaked out. I had never talked to my dad about boyfriends or anything of the sort. In all honesty, I didn’t even remember who gave me the hickey. “Hello? Anyone there?” my dad joked as he stuffed his face with popcorn. “Oh uh yeah it was great.” He nodded his head in understanding. “What’d you do?” “W-what?” He raised his eyebrows. “What did you do at Jessica’s house? Give me details.” Sweat was building on my palms as he asked questions. I gulped and rubbed my neck nervously. “We just uh hung out. Ya know, girl stuff.” I watched as his eyes zoned in on my neck. “Y/N?” His jaw clenched. “Y-yeah dad?” He pointed to my neck as he came to join me on the couch. “What is that?” His eyes were intimidating as he looked at me. I couldn’t keep eye contact for long before I looked at the floor. “It’s nothing dad.” He shook his head and scoffed. “Bullshit. What is it? Where were you last night Y/N?” His voice wasn’t as harsh, but it was still stern. “I was at Jessica’s.” He shook his head. “So did Jessica give you a hickey?” My head shot up and I looked at him with confusion. “What? No. No, dad Jessica didn’t give me a hickey. Um we uh” He sighed and leaned back on the couch. “Please just tell me what’s going on.” My eyes darted around the room as I tried to think of a response. I burnt myself with a curling iron? No, that's not believable. I slowly lifted my head as I decided what to say. “Jessica and I threw a party and um I..I got a hickey.” His jaw clenched once again as he stood up and paced around the room. “Who did it?” I looked at the floor once again as my mind wondered. Who did it? Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. I had been so drunk I didn’t remember even half of what happened. “I don’t really know.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry you don’t know?!” His voice was louder now, not quite a shout, but close. “Dad I’m sorry okay it won’t-” he cut me off. “How do you not remember? Were you drunk?” Even though he was being sarcastic I felt as if he still expected an answer. “Well yeah.” The words were hesitant to escape my mouth. “You were drunk? You’re not even of legal drinking age! How did you even get alcohol?” He threw his hands in the air as emphasis of his words. “And like you didn't? I know you drank
underage dad, don’t try to tell me different!” It felt as if something sparked within me. Something that decided to fight back. Did I have the right? Probably not. After all, I’m the one who went behind his back to do these things, and now I’m trying to justify my wrong actions. “Oh yeah like that makes it okay? I also overdosed Y/N. You gonna do that next?” I was a bit taken back by his words. He knew I would never do that. Right? He sat on a chair in the corner of the room and pinched the bridge of his nose. Watching him think was interesting. Occasionally he’d clench his jaw, or his eye would twitch. He looked peaceful, yet mad at the same time. His long, curly, black hair fell in front of his face. A sad, defeated, sigh left his lips. “I’m sorry Y/N it’s just-” He paused for a moment. “You’re my little girl, and I don’t wanna see you make the same mistakes I did, okay? It’s hard for me to watch you grow up. I have to face that you’re not a toddler anymore. It’s not even that big of a deal you got a hickey.” I walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair. “I’m sorry too. I’ll be honest with you from now on.” He smiled at me before pulling me into a hug. “I’m gonna make you a deal.” I nodded my head in agreement as I waited for him to speak. “You can’t drink anymore, until you’re of legal age. Also, be honest with me about what you’re doing. And I promise I won’t get so upset about boy stuff anymore. After all, you aren’t a baby anymore.” He smiled kindly at me. I felt calmed by his words. “I promise.” “Alright kiddo. Let’s get to watching that movie.”
Thanks for reading! Requests are open btw (just a reminder lol) have a good day/night and remember to drink some water. You are beautiful. :)
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ayup new anon has appeared ! I've been catching up with the blog.
So I know this is late but with the Lumity kiss scene, Lily 100% doesn't know what she's talking about. Previous anon is going in the right direction but I wanted to just swing by and add more details as an animator myself. Ignore me if this is too off topic lol
Firstly, they got guest animator, Tom Barkel, who has worked on Rise of TMNT and Lego Monkie Kid (cartoons Lily/Mikaila has promoted on the channel btw) to do the rough animation for that scene. If Disney pay like everyone else, Tom would be paid for the amount of time he spent on the scene which due to the attention to detail probably meant he got paid more than if he were to do an average scene, so yes more of the budget would have gone into his involvement alongside clean up animation for that scene.
Secondly, the reason the animation appears better quality is simply because it is better quality. More time went into details such as different animation principles and subtle movements/expressions throughout the sequence. The scene has a lot more squash and stretch, and anticipation and follow through compared to your average TOH animation.
(This isn't a diss on other animators on the show, you produce what you're paid to produce, Tom being paid more means he has more time to add these details.)
Thirdly, to say there are less frames is just?? the complete opposite of what's happening ?? Lily is mistaking frame rate for animating on 1's/2's/3's/etc. The frame rate is still 24 fps (frames per second) but clearly Tom is using more of those 24 frames within each second. I couldn't tell you with certainty but I would guess he's animating on 1's when TOH is usually animated on 2's. Animating on 1's means that EVERY frame of the 24 frames within a single second is unique, which from experience is extremely time consuming.
Sorry for ranting but I love the animation process and it sucks seeing people like Lily just completely make up stuff and downplay all the hard work the animators put into these types of shots, especially when her fanbase is so easily swayed by her word. And I know you don't know much about animation so I apologise if a lot of what I just said isn't understandable XD
Nah, Rant away! Animation is always something I've been curious about.
And having just seen the scene in question... Yeah, no. They definitly made the animation smoother, something that can only be accomplished by using every single frame available.
It's really obvious that they did something different for that one particular scene, so I don't know what Lily is going on about.
Also, thanks for the info!
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aeempress · 3 years
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Apritello Express Evidences, part 2
Khem-khem, ladies and gentlemen, we shall continue out praising Apritello's episodes. And yeah, this part will be dedicated, in entirety just one episode.
Purple jacket. April and Donnie's episode.
I really love this piece of masterpiece, because it show April and Dee relationship, better reveals them as characters, and demonstrates their connection. (My previous points at this whole situation)
The episode begins with Donnie sneaking into April's school under the pretext of helping her. Soon, April stated the reason why she called D - her science computer project. Actually, she could take a photo of the code and sent it to Donatello, and I'm sure, he would send her the correct one right away, he's coder, he's prodigy, no probbles.
But still, April just asked him to come over and help her without stating any reasons. And he, indeed, came at speed of the light.
I want you to understand what exactly does that mean.
First: April is aware how much Donnie is into human culture. He wants to study in normal human school, do some average teen stuff. Especially, he is loving school and science-related stuff, all these science school projects, visits to botanical gardens, experiments and laboratory work. Because it's his field. It's exactly his domain, where he's good at. His family does not share his interest in science, and April is only one who can understand him. Probably.
Also, April know, how badly Donnie wants to go to school, which gives him an excuse, even if not the most solid one, but an excuse, nevertheless, to visit her school again.
Why again?
Because he has no problem navigating there. Donnie went directly to April's computer class.
He loves this place. And he'd already helped April with her projects.
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Even so, knowing that every time she asked guys, especially Don, for help, it turned into a cataclysm, April still called him to help.
It's just a weird, indirect way to say, " Let's hang out, I know how much you like this whole situation with science, school and etc. Here ya go, buddy"
It seems like April did that to make something pleasant to him, something small, but nice to make him feel better. Because, as I state before - he likes to help April (praise, doing something useful for April - still counts as a motivation) and he likes school.
Second: khem-khem, D came at her school, as it seems, right away she called/texted. He didn't even know the proper reason, but c'mon: April ask for help, plus, her school. Sounds legit, don't you think?
Anyway, April has always been being the reason and excuse for teetles, but especially for Donnie. Clear? Clear. Good.
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Donnie also tends to not think things through when he is excited. Because he went at the daylight in place, full of people just to help April.
ROTTMNT shows us how turtles were really afraid of human reaction and possible consequences. They have plan "H" to pretend they are going to Galaxy Con, brothers have explanation why they look weird and it's definitely not because boys are mutants, uh-huh, no, plus, guys go on surface at evening or night hours, when there are not so many people, and it's dark, obviously, to cover them and keep unseen.
Yeah, of course, Donnie seems more capable then his brothers to handle the surface (he has cash, D's dressed up as old ladies more than once, according to Leo, he was in April's school before, so yeah, no big deal) and I suspect that his friendship with April is one of the reasons.
Third: do you remember how April worried about looking "normal" when she was finally invited to a school party? She even forbade Mayham to appear nearby, just not to look like the lizard boy. Because cool kids don't bring pets to school. April doesn't have many friends, or rather, there are none at school, and she's been trying to solve this problem by getting close to Taylor Martin, the coolest girl in school.
And April O'Neil just calls Donatello, an objectively strange guy (since when is it normal to be a fan of school? Pretty questionable) in place, where her reputation is hanging in a balance. Our girl does not try to hide Dee, as it usually shown in shows for kids, and April do not pretend that she sees him for the first time in her life because, you know, Donnie will catch everyone's attention being himself and may embarrass her in front of her classmates. But no - April says with all her actions: "Yes, I know him. Yes, that dork is with me. And I don't give a damn about your opinion. Your problems, not mine. And yeah, I'm fine with him being here."
I mean it, guys. The devil is always in the tiny details.
The way they behave around each other.
Donatello is way more, MORE relaxed and just being himself: dramatic dorky nerdy ninja with current obsessions. The way he sneaked in school and April's classroom, the way he behaves alone with her is contrasting the way of his attitude while his brothers are near.
Don has a specific way to shown up. Instead of texting her, Donnie used shurekens. Yes, he almost fell off the lamp, but still, that's... quite an entrance he makes there.
April worries about him, when he fell from ceiling.
Our girl feel relaxed enough around Donnie, so she winks at him.
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A wink is a fairly casual gesture that shows some expression of sympathy, trust, and togetherness. It's both good for saying "We're in same boat, we're team" and show the playful attitude towards someone. Isn't that an indicator?
Ironically, that being the best friends April and Donnie do not have any secret handshake/brofist/special greeting, as it usually the besties have at kid's series. Like Kendra and Jeremy have.
I can do only one possible logical conclusion: their relationship is far beyond "friends," "best friends," and "family".
Btw, about this certain phrase about secret five.
- Nay, fair April. A secret five[...].
Once again, nice wording, Donatello. Fair April? Maybe I'm too critical, but often when someone wants to convince their interlocutor and at the same time show one's condescension to them, it's usually uses "my dear ..." or something like that. I understand that semantically the difference is not very big, but in the first case, you can feel Donnie's personal attitude, even though he uses a book word. The second is just formal politeness, which emphasizes the difference between the rightness of the disputants.
This phrase were interpreted on official Russian dub as (okay, it's really hard to choose the correct word, because there's a lot of synonyms in English that sits quite well, while on Russian it's just one word, damn) "Нет, милая (No, honey/sweetheart )". Actually, a strange choice of wording, 'cause this is not what usually friends use to say to each other. We prefer use words like " my darling", "my dear", to demonstrate leniency. And again, most often this prerogative belongs to the older generation. Russians rarely throw around such words as "honey", "dear", "sunshine", because this deprives these endearments of any meaning, and a person using them, as a rule, is familiar. Of course, there are people who use them on a regular basis, but I HIGHLY doubt that Donatello is one of them. It's not his style.
But still, maybe I just too critical at this point.
April, as it is shown, have some kind of power to cool and calm him down and bring Donnie back to life reality.
1. Don awakes from his daze while heard April's voice
2. He's literally coming back to life, when April said about his broken jetpack.
3. Dee obediently interrupts his touching farewell to the jacket when April yells at him.
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Oh, and his face. I remind you, fellas, we're talking about Donatello, "I really do not like to express emotions"-guy and "I will die if someone broke my bAbEyS"-guy.
And what do we see? Donnie's emoting. And feels free to do that. He's even drooling. (What seems kinda interesting without context, if you're understand what I'm talking about ;))
Dee doesn't seem angry about broken jetpack. And his wide smile, while he's assuring April he can fix it? A few minutes ago, he was steamed when his stuff was stolen, but when the jetpack was broken, he doesn't even raise an eyebrow. Very eloquent.
April is his support
April also supports Donnie whatever he's up to. Yes, she hadn't been excited when Othello had expressed a desire to join the club. However, she also introduced him to Kendra and company. Yes, she showed by her whole appearance that she did not share his joy, but nevertheless, our loyal captain O'Neil was there for him, by his side all this time.
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And her sweet facial expression. From "Srsly? Join this jerks?" to "If you dare to even think about to hurt him, I'll smash you".
And one more cute detail about Dee. Even if he does whatever he wanted so badly, Don constantly looks around at April, looking for her approval.
- Be honest, April, do I look fantastic, or SUPERBLY fantastic?
- You look like you drop a juice box in a laundry. (Play nice, April, don't be mean)
He cherishes her opinion.
April had even called him late at night just to, technically speaking, say that his tech were stolen. And what's the big deal with all his outfit? It's late night, they can just sneak out into Nakamura in their usual form. But noooo, April give a special ride on her bicycle. Just. You know. Our girl carried her own weight and his all the way without stopping. And then she went up 53 + floors running non-stop because Donnie's equipment was stolen. And then she had to chase the her classmates, dodge and jump out of the window. Because Purple dragons stole Dee's tech. Like shooting fish in a barrel, no big deal at all.
And it's definitely not because he will be totally crashed or he'll do stupid things during his anger, which will then come out sideways.
And April comes along with him to very end.
By the way, their phone conversations.
Donnie is the very case when "Call at any time of the day or night and I will pick up the phone".
When April called him when he needs D's help with Albearto, when something is definitely going on behind.
As it says in transcript of the episode:
[April takes out her phone, scrolls to Donnie’s listing and calls him. Donatello appears on screen. Behind him a flying microwave wearing boxing gloves shoots lasers at his brothers.]
Don: "You are conversing with Donatello."
April
[Crouched on floor in hiding.]
Dude, I need your help."
Don: "For you, anything. As long as it does not involve bees, or spiders, or beach balls.
[There’s an explosion behind him and his brothers cry out, which he ignores.]
And yeah, he took her incoming immediately, he ignores absolutely and totally everything around him, because... April? Expositions, bloody flying microwave bot turned to destroy mode, his brothers screaming and being in life-threatening situation? Naaah, it can wait.
Donatello was at Todd's, building "the puppiest place on Earth" and was very enthusiastic about to finish this thing. But he paused anyway to answer April.
We already know how obsessive with work Don can be: if something interesting gets into his field of view, he begins to do it all day long. Remember "The Purple Game" - a very revealing case. Yeah, we weren't shown how much Donnie is into engineering, but I can guess that point remains the same.
April called him at late night and Donnie picked up the phone.
April, unlike Donatello, is a teenager who is burdened with social relationship such as family, school, and work periodically, which implies a more or less strict schedule to follow and some conventions, such as " April, you can't go out late at night to catch robbers, you are underage and you have to go to school/work tomorrow). However, she was watching the news late at night, so she called Dee. ( I have a lot of questions, but I'll never get answers, as it seems)
D, in turn, doesn't have so many contacts with the outside world. I highly doubt that anyone else outside of the family and April has his number. And yet, when he hears the call late at night he takes it. Yes, he had awaken from the nightmare, but still.
And what's up with his usual "You're conversing with Donatello"? He didn't even understand what's going on, as it seems, he's too sleepy to play his usual image and playfully attitude as we could see in "Hypno Part Deux" and "War and Pizza".
Adorable couple-like D&A arguing
April very rarely uses "I told you so" against anybody, or rather, this is almost the only case. This phrase is more suitable for Leo or Donnie, and you know," I told you so! " we usually use on people we know well, and we want to tease 'em about them being wrong. Which, in fact, once again highlights and proves how close D&A are. And I don't even get started about the fact that this is more like a couple's quarrel, not a friend's.
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And one more time - in the end, when April suggests using the jacket to stop Kendra.
Their teamwork
I stated that before, I'll tell it one more and more times. The chemistry of their team interaction is incredible. It's as if they can feel each other, and each knows what the other is capable of doing in the next moment. April easily adapts to Donnie's attack, realizing his plan.
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Donnie also throws them both out of the window in order to continue the pursuiting Kendra on the jetpack. Don is one hundred percent sure of April, that she will understand what he wants to do, Dee trusts her with his life without hesitation, and she has never used his jetpack. He just puts her before the fact: April will be using the tech.
Up for Donnie!
I really like how this scene was made. Donatello struggles with his own tech, somewhat he made by himself, having invested almost whole himself and his soul, but what "betrayed" him in end. When Dee finally managed to shake one of his battleshell, which almost choked him, Donnie feel so scared and unsecured. We can see his anxiety - Dee's coaching position with covering his head with his hands and tucking his knees.
Defenseless, helpless, and mostly lost, and then, just in time - hero comes to save his life. She uses Donnie's name as battlecry, look how furious she is.
Funny fact: on Russian dub April yells "Don't touch Donnie! (how dare you, madafaka)
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April fits in Donnie's type of girls. She's cute (obvious) and mean (not so obvious).
I can't say that meanness is the main feature of April's character, as we can say about Kendra. But this personality trait is still present in her and sometimes it does not manifest itself so widely. April's meanness is not so pronounced, it is much softer and smoother, and it is not exposed.
But April becomes really mean when someone messes up with Donnie.
She's his support and prop. Literally. Just look at first frame, okay-okay, jokes aside
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She's genuinely enjoying of kicking bad guys ' asses, even letting go of witticisms and barbs.
Last scenes
Don survived a rough night: he was used, his tech was stolen, so he and April had to chase the satin robed punks. Donnie was hit in the head with a hammer, he fell from a bird's-eye view, passed out and then his battleshell tried to strangle him. And April is here to comfort him, to cheer him up.
Yes, we don't get any hugs (because it's kids show, bleh), the tactility is kept to a minimum, except for April's comforting hand on his shoulder, but they don't even look at each other. But the softness of her voice, the intonation with which she utters a phrase (that is usually sent to the friend zone, but "pal" is really neutral word, and the most important how she said that) turn the scene upside down. It is not what April did to comfort him matter, it's how she did this.
I said "yes" to you way too often
April mirrors Donnie with his "Anything for you". Yes, of course, she said this with a certain amount of grumbling, but her voice and her demeanor suggest otherwise - she is not at all averse to going to giving in him.
And the way they're look at each other.
This one
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And one more detail
It's really tiny, it's hard to catch from the first watching the episode, but still, it's possible. I'm talking about graffiti on the walls of the alley where April and Don had landed.
This one
Yeah, if we speak about reality it's quite normal to see graffiti like this. But we talking about TV-series, where everything has its own place and meaning. And if there something, it must be there, it's not just whim of artist who put it in there. But this little graffiti changes the mood of scene.
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sooniesspot · 3 years
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Coming Down | myg
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Okay, so here's the second installment of my BADLANDS Series. This is loosely based around Coming Down by Halsey. I realise I haven't really done them in a specific order, just the one I am pulled to next to write.
Warnings: Dom!Yoongi, Sub!Reader, mentions of slight work stress and societal pressures of being a woman, you know. All that good stuff.
Reader is a F E M I N I S T and proudly so. Loose mention of not wanting kids (which is fine btw) this is just a whole load of smut, not much fluff as it's FWB but.
Okay so, oral, f & m receiving, face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, rough sex, light spanking, choking (for like a milisecond) use of ties, slight sensory deprivation, slight body worship, overstimulation. Slight name-calling?? Yoongs says kitten ironically. Use of safe word/safe signal. Yoongles has a Sir Kink. (I can only apologise) Reader has a hand kink (obvs) just wants to get off and relieve stress, Yoongi is happy to be their relief.
word count: 9.8k 👀🐸☕ don't @ me
'I found God, I found him in a lover'
It was a normal Thursday evening, you'd finished work at 6pm on the dot and took the bus home. Fishing for your keys as you approached the front door of your apartment. Key in the lock, turn. Open. Silence. Walking into your hallway, slippers not quite on the rack by the front door as you rushed out of them into your heels this morning. Just where you left them. Sliding off your heels with a sigh as you trudged into your slippers, immediately comforted by the soft memory foam that supported your tiresome toes. Returning your heels to the rack. Shrugging off your bag and long coat, reaching nearly 2 feet above you on your tiptoes to hang your bag and coat on the coat rack. Muttering to yourself like you did every day. 'Coat and bag, then heels. Won't have to stretch so much.' Venturing into the living room. Magazine on the coffee table infront of the sofa where you had left it last night.
Empty. Not that you expected anyone to be home. No one making you dinner you didn't want, or taking up the whole sofa, or hogging the remote. You lived alone, and you liked it. Sure, for a pretty young girl in her mid twenties you often had looks and questions.
'When are you going to find the one?'
'When will you settle down and have a family?'
And truth be told, you didn't want to settle down. You had told your mother from a young age that you didn't want children, whether that would change over time or not you weren't sure. It hadn't changed. You still wanted your independence and that was okay. Women were not put on this earth just to bear children and you were the firmest believer in that. You liked your life just the way it was. A job you loved that you worked hard for, an apartment you were proud of and nearly every night you got to sleep in your own bed, alone, no one to whine at when they snored or your body being used as a warmer for their cold feet. The few nights you were away from your bed came from your once in a while rendezvous with an acquaintance of yours. Although you knew eachother more than mere acquaintances should.
You met at a bar some time ago. Lights flashed, sure to give you a migraine and music so loud your eardrums could burst at any given moment. You were dragged out to this stingy bar by your bestfriend in her attempt to finally get noticed by that one guy. Even in her twenties she was still as smitten as when you were both back at school. You wore a simple black dress with a low cut front, skirt just above the knee and plain black heels. Hair not much different to your everyday, maybe a few waves here and there and some more mascara than your normal work volume. Trying your best to blend in but still having the ornate ability to have eyes on you in any setting.
You spent a lot of time on the dance floor until your friend had found her prey and you circled around the bar. Much rather wanting to stay at home with a tub of ice cream and your cat watching some terrible reality show about Cabin Crew on a cruise ship. Shouting at the TV to throw the nasty woman overboard; waving your spoon at the screen as your cat looked on in understanding almost. But here you were, slumped against a sticky varnished oak bar, propped up on an old velvet stool, twisting your straw in your glass, nonchalantly spinning the steadily melting ice as you listened to your friend talking to her guy. Suddenly feeling a hot hand against your lower back and someone lean over the bar between you and your otherwise occupied friend. Looking up at a pale man to your left.
" Whiskey on the rocks. " came his order to the bar tender; sharp, leaving no room for anything blasé.
Catching his eye, he looked you over once with a subtle bite of his lip and the flick of his tongue at the seam of his mouth; eyebrow raised with a lingering smirk before he vanished into the sea of people again with his drink.
Dumbfounded, you sat there, staring at the now empty spot where he had been mere seconds ago, the now cool expanse of your lower back where his large hand once was, fizzing. Swinging round on your stool, propping your elbow on the bar behind you, your eyes scanned the room. It wasn't the biggest bar. It wouldn't take long to find him.
Soon you caught eyes with him across the dance floor, stood with his taller, tanned friends as he held the whiskey glass firm in his hand; talking amongst themselves. Dark Brown, almost black hair feathered across his forehead, just above his twinkling chocolate eyes. Thin upper lip pressing to his plumper bottom lip before perfect white teeth graced your vision in an endearing gummy smile. Eyes still not catching you between the bodies of people dancing. Several silver hoop earrings in each ear. He wore a long black sweatshirt, black ripped jeans and boots. A couple of silver rings adorned his strong fingers.
You took a sip of your drink, gaze intermittently fluttering in his direction as you scanned the room, your friend had left to go and dance. Eyes found her and you nodded, knowing she was fine. As your stare focused back on the man before you he finally looked up, catching your eye with his, dark and mysterious. His lips pulling into a smirk again as he gazed at you. Heat bubbling in your chest from his wandering eyes on your body through the gap in people on the dance floor. He eventually made his way over to you and whispered a few words into your ear. Cool and calm.
" Come back to my hotel. "
And so you did. One slightly drunk, intense one night stand later and here you were, 6 months down the line sleeping with eachother whenever he was in town. A classic Friends With Benefits situation, although you weren't really friends.
You walked into your kitchen, greeting your ginger tabby cat with a kiss as she meowed at you in greeting. Grabbing yourself a glass for water and pouring kibble into her bowl on the floor, your routine monotonous but you didn't mind. Your cat tucking into her dinner as you filled up your glass, taking a sip. Looking at delivery menus on your fridge under old magnets from previous travels, deciding on Chinese; plucking the menu from the fridge, you had a training day for other colleagues at work tomorrow which meant a day off for you. No needing to cook dinner and get an early night tonight. Placing your glass and the menu on the coffee table in the living room, you switched on the tv, chucking any random show on then bumbling along to your room, opening the door. Greeted by quiet and serenity. No dirty pants on the floor or unmade bed. You smiled with contentment, unzipping your dress to pool at your feet before tossing it into your wash basket. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your most dependable black bra and panty set glaring back at you as you fixed your hair into a ponytail and wiped off your makeup. Throwing on a sweatshirt and some leggings. A short while later you plopped yourself down on the sofa and switched on the tv, greeting your cat with a scratch under her chin as she sauntered into the room, hopping up on the sofa with you.
Zoning out to the world around you as a terrible drama played on in the background as you glanced over the menu, not really paying attention to anything in particular. You had been a little stressed over the past couple of weeks, mounting pressures of a new senior in your department threatening to change everything you had sculpted into a balanced working environment over the last 3 years. Societal pressures and backhanded compliments from your mother's 'garden party' friends concerning whether or not you were defective in choosing a man. Or having one choose you. But in reality, the truth is, you had a stable relationship previously, unfortunately he was a dick and you're not stupid. So the single life had been your rather quiet reality for the last 18 months. No one to answer to or to worry about. Just you and your cat.
Your mothers friends never seemed to understand that, always too engrossed in whether or not you had a man on top of you every night to see that their husbands had found other, much younger women to be on top of. All of this filtering through the crack in your hardened shell, filling your mind with alternate realities until you got a text coming through. Cutting through all the fuzz that piqued in your brain. Picking up your phone, you saw who it was. Him.
'I'm in town, come over?' 
Your reply was short and sweet.
'Sure, be over in 20.'
Snapping out of your previous thoughts and placing the menu back on the coffee table you sat and pondered for a minute. This was fine. This was what you needed. To let off some steam, in a judgement free setting. No cold glances your way, or harsh words uttered, unless it was you being tied to the headboard again like you had been convinced to try last time with his unadulterated gaze looking down at you writhing underneath him. The thought alone had your hair standing on end and a shiver running through you as you stood from the sofa, heading to your room.
Sifting through your wardrobe to pull on some old trainers, checking yourself in the mirror not really knowing why. In your hallway you made sure the lights in the apartment were off and your cat was happy, tucked up in the corner of the sofa snoozing away. Making sure you had your keys and phone in your bag, you left, key in the lock, turn. Locked. Walking down the hallway and down to the ground floor, heading out of the building to head right. The hotel he always stayed at was only a block or so away so the walk was relatively short. The sun was setting now as it hid behind the skyscrapers that canopied the city. Passers by making their way home or even to work. Still lots of cars on the road and bicycles that weaved in and out of traffic. The breeze was light and cherry blossoms danced in the air, separating from a tree as you passed a nearby park. The air was cool, as it would be in early May. Not too hot. Reminded of your journey, that first night.
'When his hair falls in his face and his hands so cold they shake'
You had left swiftly after his original proposition, making up some story about your cat or an early work meeting or something. Anything to get you out of there and with him. His hand returned to the small of your back as you left the bar, being ushered into an awaiting taxi outside. Shuffling all the way over to the other side, he slid in next to you blurting out the address to the hotel at the driver. Hair falling in his face. Eyes wild as they sparkled from the reflection of the dim streetlights. Smirking at you as the same powerful hand you had grown accustomed to on your back, made a home on your knee, slightly tucked under the skirt of your dress. It was now cold to the touch. Strong and intimidating as the taxi started to drive away. Not being able to take his eyes off you he leant forward and whispered in your ear.
" You look so delicious. " His voice low that reverberated through you, straight to your core as he squeezed your knee. Uttering the last syllable with a kitten lock to the shell of your ear.
To this you bit your lip and shifted uncomfortably in your seat. His hand, in turn sliding further up under your dress to the wider expanse of your thigh. The material of your dress pressing his hand taught against your skin.
He swooped down to your ear again, pressing an open mouthed kiss under your ear before he whispered " can't wait to taste you. "
You keened away from his grasp to no avail. He knew what he was doing to you, breath shallow and flighty in your chest as his teeth tugged at your earlobe.
"Please " You breathed, the first word you uttered to him.
Not really sure what you were pleading him for but the fire in your chest and the dampness of your panties flourished an urgency within you that was incorrigible. He smirked again at this, eyes dancing like Fireflies in the night. The hand that was to his side while the other hid between your thighs came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him.
"Soon. " He chuckled before biting your lip.
Drawn back to reality, passing people and cars. Your trainers pulling you towards your destination as your head had an argument with your feet. Was this a good idea? You didn't want to get yourself into a situation where either of you caught feelings. You were a pro at being a cold hearted bitch now but the odd sincere glance your way, especially from him seemed to melt your resolve, even just a little. Recounting the previous times you had taken this walk and what it would lead to.
After your first night with him, it was like a drug. You always wanted more. To say he was good in the bedroom was a complete cop out. He was...He was something. Made you feel things you'd never felt before and noises you'd never in your wildest dreams imagine yourself making. At decibels only a dog could hear. So once the addiction started, you started seeing one another everytime he was in town. Sometimes a couple of times in a week. That went on for a solid 4 months and as work pressures mounted, you fell distant. Always busy catching up with work or having some alone time with your thoughts and your cat. He also got busy, having to travel more for work. You didn't really know much about except it was important and you felt based on the guitar he always packed with him, propped up against the wall in the corner of the room, it was something to do with music.
'I found a devil, I found him in a lover'
The last time you had seen eachother had been a little over 2 weeks ago. That night you'd stayed, which didn't come easily. You were adamant you would leave as soon as you'd cleaned up, even telling him so as he helped you wash in the bathroom, almost requesting a second round when he looked at you through the mirror with those sparkling brown eyes like the devil, but you had been so wound up and pushed to your limits that you felt sleep take you as soon as your body hit the mattress again. Memories of restraints, dark water colours that created the murky palette of his hotel room and the low thumping of your heart, even as you entered the apartment, seeing him there, a tie in hand and a coy smirk. That night he had called you. He never called.
" You busy? " He sounded gruff like he'd just finished working out - which you knew not to be the case.
"When am I ever busy? " You rebuttled with a laugh.
He joined you, then you could hear him grin down the phone. A different sort of grin. A devious one.
"I wanted to try something. "
There was quiet, you wished him to continue silently.
"Something I can't stop thinking about doing to you. " He whispered lowly.
Your ears on fire and furiously red in the face you hung up. Chucking a quick 'omw' text to him in return. That night had been the best sex you'd ever had. That's why you'd stayed. For fear of walking into oncoming traffic at 2am because of your disorientated state.
Your heart skipped a beat at the anticipation of what was to come once you knocked on the door and it sent a thrill through you. Rounding the corner you were met with a bleak grey concrete block of apartments that made up the hotel with a black sign. Crossing the street after looking both ways you jogged up the steps as you saw the door beginning to close after a couple just exited. Sliding in you headed straight for the elevator.
He always had the same hotel room which avoided any confusion. You ran to the elevator that had just opened and pressed the 7th floor. Alone again your mind wandered to your first night here, in this lift.
You'd both stumbled out of the taxi and shuffled over to the lift, he pressed the elevator button furiously as he got impatient; leaning against eachother. As soon as the lift doors were closed he pressed you against the wall, face millimetres from yours as his nose skimmed over yours. Both of your breathing, laboured and slow. His large hands roamed your body; your waist, up and down your thighs. Gripping at the flesh as if he owned it. You wanted him to. God you wanted him to own all of you in that moment. Gaze intense and unwavering as the mysterious glint in his eye grew. His hands slid around the curve of your ass which made you stutter, giving it a harsh squeeze that made you lose your breath.
"I'm gonna ruin you." He whispered devilishly in your ear as he bit the shell.
Pulled out of your reverie as the elevator doors dinged open, signalling you had reached your floor, face burning as you stepped out of the lift, cold fingers pressed to your cheeks to try and cool them. Preparing yourself for what man would greet you at the door. You never knew which one you would get. Sometimes he was ravenous and you never made it to the bed, lipstick smeared and tights ripped as he never had time to waste when he felt such a desperate need for you. Or you would get the cool calm and collected man that caught your eye that night all those months ago. That was, until he got you here. Alone with him.
Walking down the corridor to his room now, counting the doors as they seemed to go on for miles, dark in wood with numbers etched in gold with golden handles. Your breath starting to slip away from you as you imagined as soon as you opened that door you wouldn't be able to breathe steadily again for a while. Room 93. (Shoutout to Halsey's first EP) There it was. You slowed to a stop, almost nervous to knock. 'Just knock' You muttered to yourself. Rolling your eyes as you fidgeted on the spot, sighing as you raised your hand to knock on the door. Knock. Wait. Silence.
You were waiting for a little while which was unlike any other time. Checking your watch and the door number. You waited a little longer and you were just about to walk away when the door opened slowly. You turned; met with the same dancing brown eyes you caught in yours all those months ago, although slightly sunken, maybe he hadn't been sleeping well? His lean frame propped up against the door. Arms folded over his broader chest. Hair fluffed over his forehead, slightly damp. Pale skin flawless and glowing against the dark background of his hotel room and the darkness of his simple black tee and sweatpants. Silver hoops still adorned his ears and rings still glistened on his beautiful hands. Eyes unwavering as they honed in on you. Smirk playing on his thin lips.
"You're early." He mumbled all knowingly, looking at the rings that adorned his knuckles, as if he were about to connect them with a wall.
You stuttered, heart in your mouth as you gawked at the man. Feeling like a naughty school girl that was about to get a ruler spanked across her a-. You stopped the thought for fear of collapsing in the hallway. His eyes still on you, looking you up and down. You mentally slapped yourself for your attire. Sweatshirt and leggings. Not sexy in the slightest. Anyway. Why did you care? Not like you wanted to impress him, right? After another beat his strong arm pulled you in the room by the collar of your sweatshirt, closing the door swiftly behind you and pinning you up against it.
"Just means I have more time." He whispered against your lips.
Sweeping strands of hair out of your face delicately, tucking his fingers behind your ears. He smiled at you, his gummy smile. You never thought that smile would be directed at you. Let alone in this setting.
'With his lips like tangerines, and his colour-coded speak'
His lips moulded to yours with a sudden urgency. Teeth and tongue caressing your lips with power and want. Heavy breaths exchanged as you dropped your bag; hands trying to find purchase somewhere sturdy and stable. Deciding upon the strength of his arms. Eyes closing as you were swept away in the moment of teeth and tongue and pent up tension and wanton need for eachother. His fingers pulling out your hairband so your hair pooled around your face. His fingers lacing through the soft locks as he grinned against your lips. Always having an ornate infatuation with how silky your hair was. How good it felt wrapped around his fist as he fucked you into the mattress. How it spread out behind you like waves across the crisp white bedsheets, framing your face perfectly as you slept.
He missed this. Maybe he missed you. Jolted back from his sweet thoughts, hearing you start to mumble against his lips as he continued to pin you up against the door, your head firmly in his hands.
"Yoongi." You murmured again, slurring the word slightly; drunk off the potent lust he cradled you with.
He never let up from your lips, intent on breathing you in. Hands untangling themselves from your hair as his cool calm hands landed on your shoulders, moving you away from the door to pin you to a wall, nearer to the bed. An eventual destination set in his mind. He couldn't get enough of you. Your hands travelled to cup his cheeks. His lips dry against yours gaining moisture from the saliva rolling around in your mouths as your tongues fought. Small whimpers beginning to swim their way into the air. Music to his ears. Of all the music he'd ever had a hand in creating, he wished he could emulate your tiny whimpers. Your cries for more of him. All of him. Wanting to devour him whole.
"Fuck" He exclaimed, finally pulling away from you, heavy breathing as his forehead was against yours.
Not even giving you time to breath he reached for the hem of your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your gorgeous body to his hungry eyes. Knowing now that hiding from his gaze would be futile. An attempt at covering up would leave your ass raw and marks all over every single inch of your body. God's above. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, to him you practically were. He never sought out for any other attention or company from other women. The taste of you as often as he could have you was more than enough to satiate his heart.
He made quick work of your bra before throwing his own shirt off onto the growing pile on the floor. His hands, rough against your soft, plush breasts as his thumbs circled around your pebbling nipples. His teeth latching onto your bottom lip, humming as he looked into your steadily closing eyes. Teeth venturing south along your jaw to your neck and collarbone as he began to grab at the skin of your waist after he finished moulding your breasts; as if trying to memorise the feeling of them in his hands. The weighted comfort he had grown to adore about your chest. Teeth sinking in, enticing low gasps and the tiniest of squeaks as he would bite too hard on already sensitive flesh, intent on getting every inch of your skin covered in small indentations from his teeth. Tongue lascivious against the contours of your neck and collarbones, sickly sweet taste of your skin that drove him wild.
'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'
All you could do was pant and mule against him, your hands in his steadily drying locks. Suddenly pulling away as he untied the drawstring of his pants.
"Knees, now." He whispered authoritively and you happily obeyed.
Flicking your hair off your shoulder you sank down onto your knees. Eyes ignited with a fire he practically stoked out of you. You admired his body on the journey down. Body lithe and pale, defined arms and chest with a flat stomach, no six pack or defined v lines that led to the promising tent that you saw in your line of sight. Just a small happy trail of hair from below his belly button sneaking into the hem of his sweatpants. Swiftly taking them down and off you were greeted with black boxers, looking tight around his cock cased within. You licked your lips in anticipation as his fingers forked through the hair on your scalp. Looking up to his face as he gazed down at you with a stern look in his own eyes; burning into your already flushed skin.
"Someone looks like they've missed this." He smirked as your hand rose to palm him through his boxers.
He released a low hum at the feeling of your hand cupping his balls. You knew that he was very sensitive there, from past experiences.
"Does the slut want my cock?" He asked, a feather of a chuckle rumbled in his chest at your immediate nod as you ran your tongue over the seem of your lips.
Your fingers delved underneath the fabric as you began to pull them down. Sudden slap to your hands had you shying away from him.
"Hungry sluts have to wait don't they, kitten?" His eyes zeroing in on your reaction to the pet name.
You gritted your teeth in vague annoyance at the name, after the first night, you told him you had to be home for your cat. Finding it oddly adorable you were a cat lady he called you kitten ironically, now it's stuck. Your eyes looking away from him, turning your head slightly towards the large window that showed the rest of the city. Twinkling lights now shining in the moonlight. His hand gripped your chin, pulling your attention back to him, forcing you to look up into his devious eyes.
"I don't think you answered me, slut." He snarled; releasing your chin from his grasp.
Your heart jumped in your chest.  "Y-yes, sir."
He smirked again, feeling triumphant he patted your head, thumb smoothing over your hair line with ghost like touches before running it along the seem of your mouth, popping his thumb in, flat against your tongue. Closing your lips around him, beginning to suck, big eyes gazing up at him.
"Good girl." He whispered before removing his thumb from your mouth and yanking his boxers down and stepping out of them.
His fingers danced through his damp hair as his cock sprung up against his stomach, a muted groan as the cool air touched his reddened and straining cock. Your eyes widened, never getting used to the sight of his cock, inches away from your salivating mouth, making your panties pool with a carnal need for him to be inside you. Your hands began to rub up and down your jeans clad thighs, waiting with baited breath for him to give you the command. This man and the things you'd do for him would have others question if you were a feminist or not. How a strong single woman with a steady career and bustling social life could want to be so utterly defiled by a man and be at his every whim really flipped your ideology on its head. But a drug was a drug, and you were high on him like cocaine.
"Alright, stop giving me those bedroom eyes." He gushed, dominating voice faltering as he gazed down at you, waiting and ready for him to let you begin.
You fluttered your eyelashes at him, big and bold. Biting your lip as your hands rubbed along your thighs again.
"Fuck, just get over here." He laughed, holding the base of his cock in his hand as your hands slunk up his sturdy pale thighs.
Fingertips sending sparks through his body. Your lips reaching his tip, you looked up at him again as you kitten licked his bulbous tip, testing it. Like testing a car. He hissed to which you smirked. You took your tongue to lick the underside of his cock lightly, teasing his frenulum before swirling your tongue round his tip several times. He puffed out a harsh breath but never said a word, fingers beginning to weave into your hair with a softness you were unfamiliar with. Surrounding the tip with your lips as you slowly sunk the head into your waiting mouth. Giving kitten links to the underside again as you sucked on his tip for a moment. Yoongis breath was heavy, you could tell by his chest moving, half lidded eyes looking down at you as you took more of him in slowly. Tongue still licking everywhere you could. Your other hand still positioned on his thigh as you rubbed small circles in it with your thumb.
Starting to take him deeper in your mouth and pulling him back out for breath had him seeing double. His vision was blurred as he could feel your heavenly lips wrap around his strained cock, precum and spit starting to pool at the corners of your mouth; threatening to spill as you bobbed your head back and forth on his dick. Setting up a rhythm you plunged him in deep so your nose touched his abdomen and he threw his head back with a grunt; gritting his teeth.
"Uh, fuck. Your mouth is so good" He whispered into the air.
'I've got a lover and I'm unforgiven, I'm such a fool to pay this price'
Your mouth worked on him as well as it could. You would take a lot of him in and proceed to gag which made him grunt. As your hand began to work at the base of his shaft. Giving him your all. Making up for lost time.
"Fuck, I'm not gonna last." He hissed. His hands in spearing through your hair as his thumbs rubbed at your scalp.
"I should've kept my hands to myself... Always impatient." He chuckled menacingly to himself; shaking his head.
Your breath was heaving as you pulled back from him. Hands gripping his thighs tight as you looked up at the man towering above you.
"What do you say, will you let me fuck your mouth like a good pet?"  He asked, hands still in your hair.
"Make me cum, then it's your turn? How about it, kitten?"
No hesitation in your eyes as you gazed up at him as if he had hand painted all of the stars in the sky. You nodded profusely and he grinned at you; swiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.
"Good girl, remember your safe signal?"  He asked, almost sweet in his tone.
You tapped the back of his thigh 3 times with your finger and he nodded. Feathering his fingers through your hair again, your hand still at the base of his dick lining him up to your waiting mouth. You gave him the go ahead as he thrusted shallowly into your mouth at first. Finally in your mouth his hands speared through your hair behind your ears to hold you still as he began to move his hips back and forth. You had done this before. Let him do this. But this time was so raw and so needy you honestly couldn't fathom how much you needed this. And it wasn't even your turn. He began to set up a rhythm working his length deeper with every thrust; starting to make you gag as you tried your best to relax. He breathed in sharply, his head thrown back as he pumped in and out. His shaft gliding smoothly across your tongue and beginning to slip down your throat as you sputtered around him. Hands firmly gripping the back of his thighs, the same way he was gripping your hair.
"Fuck, fuck. Your mouth. Kills me." He mumbled to himself; thinking you couldn't hear.
You looked up at him, a picture of bliss. Arms locked in place, keeping you still as he slid in and out of your mouth, picking up speed now. The veins in his neck; protruding under a velvet blanket of Frosted skin. Teeth gritted and brows furrowed. He looked down to see you already watching him. To this he groaned deep within his chest at the sight of you so willing and ready for him. Setting his nerves alight he could feel his orgasm approaching. Gripping your hair even tighter as he gave you a moment to breath before jackhammering into your mouth with a low whine.
"Fuck. Holy shit." He whispered before you felt his cock twitch deep in your throat and thick ropes of cum travel down it as he came; hips jerking at weird angles as you noticed sweat beading across his neck and collarbones; reaching up to his hairline.
After he had composed himself he pulled out of your mouth and you swallowed everything still left in your mouth before opening your mouth to show it was empty. He ran a solid hand through his own hair before he pulled you to your feet; planting a heavy kiss to your lips as he walked you back towards the bed. Practically pushing you back on it with a soft bounce. He suddenly rounded to the other side of the hotel room rummaging through a suitcase. Soon returning with several black ties in hand. Giving you a knowing smirk. You felt your stomach sink at the memory of your last adventure with this man. In this hotel room. With those ties. But judging by the look on his face and the fact his previously lifeless cock had begun to spring to life again; you knew it was different.
'I found a martyr, he told me that I'd never'
He began to move you up the bed to where he saw fit. Nodding when he had got you where he wanted. Straddling your waist he grabbed an arm tying the tie around your wrist to then loop it around the headboard. He soon did the same to the other one. Then finally you saw him gazing down at you from above before he slipped a soft silk tie over your eyes fastening it behind your head. Everything went black, but you could hear him; feel him. All around you. Feeling weight either side of your head you suddenly felt breath over your nipple; squirming at the sensation and your clothed pussy clenching around nothing. You felt him kitten lock his way along your breast before landing an unexpected bite against your neck, causing you to pull against the restraints with a sharp intake of breath.
"Remember your safe word, kitten?" He whispered in your ear.
You nodded. "Seesaw."
He sat back on his heels; still straddling you. Crossing his arms with a nod.
"Why is it Seesaw, again?" You ask, a grin sliding onto your face.
He chuckled at this before you felt weight lifted from the bed. You skin crawling with goosebumps as you waited with anticipation. Suddenly feeling deft fingers pulling your leggings and panties down in one swift movement. A beat of silence. Feeling like forever until you felt the same fingers, calloused but oh so soft against the skin of your collarbone.
"You don't remember?" He whispered into the darkness.
You shook your head no as your body began to squirm. Feeling his finger trail delicately down to your chest, followed by his other pointer finger on his left. Circling your nipples in precise motions. You sucked in a breath and your back arched as you felt him blow cool air onto the perking bud.
"Oh kitten, it was the bar where we first met" You could hear the smirk evident in his voice as his fingers trailed underneath the curve of your breasts.
"The night I took you home and ate you so good you nearly passed out." A dry chuckle left his lips at the gasp that left your own.
He began to drag his sturdy fingers slowly; tantalisingly, in soft motions towards your belly button where he would branch out with delicate touch; placing more fingers on your skin as they circled your hipbones. Finally sloping down to your thighs where his grip became firm and he pryed your legs apart to expose you to him. Heat flashing across your face as you whimpered at the action. Oh god. The things he made you feel. You felt electricity surge through your body, bouncing off your bones as you heard him hum.
"Mmmm. So wet, just from sucking my cock, kitten?"
You bit your lip with a whine; nodding profusely. Blush creeping across your cheeks. He seemed to like this as you heard a deep rumbled in his chest in approval. You could feel the bed dip slightly due to transferred weight. Right between your legs. Shit. If only you could see him. What was he doing? Was he pleased? Oh fuck, you didn't shave your le- your thoughts were far removed as you felt lips across the inside of your thigh; just above your knee.
"Shit, I can't wait to taste you." He whispered; sending cool air rushing up to your core.
Feeling his lips drag effortlessly along your thigh to where you wanted him most; needed him. He was tender; savouring the moment. He had missed this, giving you what you wanted. Watching you underneath him. Tasting you; devouring you. That's why he was so quick to cum the first time around. Too excited by the thought of having you again he had started to touch himself in the shower. Thinking of your soft, sweet body; Bending to his every whim. Your mouth stuffed full of his cock. Your enticing wet pussy that always made you blush at the sounds it would make, as he would fuck you. Hard and rough. He groaned at the thought before his face was level with your heat. Soft breaths that made your body wriggle; desperate to escape and want more; all at once. He hooked your knees over his elbows as he held your legs down. blowing against your exposed clit and watching your pussy clench around nothing; glistening with your essence he hungered for.
'With his educated eyes, and his head between my thighs'
"Mmmm. Sweet pussy baby girl." He kissed the apex of your thigh watching you writhe against the restraints. He hadn't even started yet. You were in for a long night.
You didn't seem to notice the name at first. It wasn't what he had called you any of the times before. But as the air thinned out around you; feeling the silence weighted around the room like a thick curtain and nothing was corrected, it almost felt affectionate; coming from his sinful lips that had just attached themselves to your-
"Fuck." Your breath caught as you threw your head back against the mattress.
Feeling lips suckling against your clit with vigor. He knew what you liked and knew how to get you where he wanted you. His tongue began lapping at your clit as his lips sucked where they could. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to pull against the restraints; your legs restless as the odd whimper left parted lips. His eyes although you couldn't see him, were focused on you. Watching every bite of your lip, every salacious moan or whimper; every gasp. You began rocking your hips in a rhythm against his tongue and he moaned at the pressure you posed against him. Trying to feel some friction as his throbbing cock had sprung to life from your first whimper; sandwiched between his abdomen and the mattress.
"God, this pussy is so good." He moaned; muffled by your legs trying so hard to clamp around his head as he continued his ministrations.
Soon enough you could feel the familiar rope spread throughout your body, begin to coil; tight as a spring before you felt a nip to your clit and you unravelled underneath him. Feeling weightless and weighted all at once. Stars beneath the blanket of the silk tie; delicate against your eyes. Head thrashing around as arms pulled with all their might against the restraints. Your back arched as you moaned loudly; legs starting to shake at the force of your orgasm. But that wasn't the end.  He flicked his tongue against your swollen clit with more intent. Determined to push you through another orgasm before he even started using his fingers. God his fingers. Your lower body began to lift off the bed as his grip on your legs only got tighter.
"Fuck, fuck Yoongi. Oh my fucking g-"
You heard an animalistic growl as you felt another nip to your clit; yelping at the sudden spark of pain amongst your pleasure.
"Sir. Stick to the rules." He punctuated with a slap to your clit. Back arching for a moment as you felt a pulse throughout your body.
"Or I'll keep biting." He mumbled the last part.
You pouted. "Yes sir." You could feel your orgasm beginning to ebb away as he took longer to return to your clit.
You whined and you felt breath on your clit again as he chuckled. Although your predicament was purely casual. Wanting to get off essentially was your main goal. Neither of you ever rushed. Enjoying one another's company. Feeling his slick, swift tongue dancing along your clit again you moaned; trying so hard to keep quiet out of respect for neighbours as you tried resting your mouth against your arm to muffle your high pitched moans. His tongue retracted until you felt the tip of his tongue tease the edge of your entrance before dipping his tonulgue in for a moment. Your hips bolted you forward at the intrusion before settling back down on the bed. His tongue running up and down from your entrance to your clit in long strokes. Quickly settling his tongue back against your throbbing clit. You yelped as he applied more pressure.
"Fuck, I love this cunt."
Slurping noises ensued as he dove in deeper. You orgasm building again and again, holding on for dear life. Holding onto your sanity. His tongue swirling around the pulsing bud as you continued your previous rhythm rocking against his face. Your knuckles were turning white at the sheer grip you had on the ties; feeling yourself drift away.
"Fuck, please, yoo-"
He pressed his face even further into your heat as you cried out in pleasure. Tongue flicking mercilessly over your engorged clit. Reaching the summit again to fall all the way down into the abyss. He never let up from you as his tongue lapped at your juices spilling from your entrance. Nerves alight and pulsing throughout your body. A thin layer of sweat was evident against your face, collarbones; the whole of your body. Sweat beaded from his own forehead and he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as he watched you regain your breath. Stilted in the silence. Only your chest rising and falling as your lungs gasped for air.
He loosened his right arms hold around your leg and brought his fingers forward to your sensitive pussy. Humming to himself as he gathered the Juices on the tip of his fingers and spreading it all over your pussy as it glistened in the dim hotel light. Knowing how much you lost your collective shit over his hands he couldn't help but watch his hands tip toe up to your breast; squeezing the flesh roughly in his hand before slinking it over to massage your neck for a second. Only to grab it a moment later. Your breath caught quite literally as you could feel the bed move from where he was sitting up. He could feel the pressure against your soft skin and the way your breath constricted; only for a moment as he loosened his grip. His fingers still flush against the skin. His veined hand looked like it belonged around your neck. He thought to himself before sliding his thumb into your mouth again; which you accepted with enthusiasm.
'I found a saviour, I don't think he remembers'
"One more from you, kitten. Then I'll fuck you. Okay?" He hummed.
Your reply was noncommittal as you nodded vehemently; still sucking on his thumb. He looked down at you with a certain adoration. Laying there, naked for him. Tied up and blindfolded. If he'd have thought this would be the case after that first night, he would have laughed. But here you both were.
His fingers began to trace the outline of your entrance; whisper like touches that made you clench around nothing. He began experimentally pushing his long slender middle finger inside you a little; chuckling lowly as you let out a whine. Your pussy trying to suck him in further. Wanting to feel him. All of him.
"Sir. Please." You murmured, legs that were now free from his grasp allowing you to rotate your hips.
He wanted to tease. God. He wanted to tease you until the sun came up. But he was desperate and so were you. He removed his finger earning a cry from you. Until he slid in two fingers to your shock and set a brutal pace. Feeling those godly fingers of his curl into you. Moulding you perfectly to him. Tapping against that sweet spot inside. He used his other hand to press your hips to the bed; preventing movement as you felt a touch of sensitivity kicking in. But you put it to the back of your mind; focussing on the way his fingers were drilling into you at an inhuman pace now.
Your senses heightened due to his silk tie that blocked your view. Oh how you wished you could watch his fingers sliding in and out of you like you had done countless times before. Acquiring quite the affinity with the mans hands. Pale, veiny; strong in their ability to hold you but soft when he caressed your cheek, wiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth or the pad of his thumb sweeping away tears from overstimulation. God you loved them.
"Fuck. I'm so close." You cried out, to someone. Anyone who could hear you as he continued his ministrations.
"Yeah? The slut loves my fingers doesn't she?" Yoongi spat; his voice laced with venom.
"Loves my fingers fucking her, huh?"
All you could do was mewl as you could feel your body going into overdrive. Your head slamming against the pillow as you could feel yourself near the edge. Just needing one final push.
"But you love it best when my hand's around your throat. Isn't that right? Slut?"
You hadn't felt his hand move. Too lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Until you felt it grip your throat. Not hard. But just enough. Squeezing when he said slut. Sparks flew and your fingers and toes felt as if they were set to a light simmer. Your body going numb at the feeling and your pussy throbbing as you came. A high pitched moan of his name left your bitten lips as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you. Body moving in time with your spasming cunt as you began to feel the overstimulation kicking in, rearing its ugly head once more. The pain was excruciating as he continued but the pleasure washed over you again as your entrance continued to clench around his fingers. Silence as a moan caught in your throat. This had to be the biggest orgasm you had ever had. Nerves set alight with matches and turning into a forest fire that exploded like gasoline until it set to a simmer when Yoongi slowed his fingers down ever so slightly. Enamoured by your head thrown back and your mouth in the perfect shape of an O. He would've cum right there, just at the sight of you convulsing beneath him.
"Cause he's off to pay his crimes, and he's got no time for mine'
"Fuck, me." He breathed, shaky breaths too.
Quickly flipping you onto your front, your still tied arms now crossed over one another. Propping your legs up so you were on your knees. A sharp smack to your ass sent you reeling into another sobbing mess. Beginning to plead with him. For something; anything.
Soon enough you felt his hands returning to your hips and ass, caressing them carefully. Your ass flinching at the contact of his lips on your lower back, you could hear a slight slapping sound behind you, assuming he had started to touch himself again. You whimpered at the thought of not being able to watch his veiny hand slide up and down his equally veiny cock. Fuck.
His lips still against your skin as he whispered "I nearly came just like that, watching you cum all over my fingers baby."
There it was again. Baby. Nothing more nothing less. There was a pregnant pause before he sighed, beginning to speak again.
"You're so fucking hot" a groan sounded as the pace of his hand quickened against his length. The slapping sound intensified.
You whimpered, beginning to move your ass up and down, wiggling it at him to invite him in.
"Yoongi, just fuck me already." You whined.
A sharp slap sounded against your ass, reverberating through the room. You winced at the pain, taking in a quick breath before a hand returned to your ass kneading it in his palm.
"Slut is so impatient today. I'll fuck you, don't worry." His words were menacing.
'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'
His hand continued to knead at your reddening cheek before pulling it aside with his thumb, showing your dripping, waiting entrance for him. He almost lost it. Almost. Deciding that you had both waited long enough he lined his throbbing condom clad cock up with your entrance and pushed in with great speed. Hissing at the feeling of your tight wet walls surrounding him.
"Oh god." You managed a strangled whimper into the mattress.
Breath caught in your throat as you could feel his dick beginning to move swiftly inside you. His hips slapping against your ass that was sure to bruise tomorrow, your wrists were aching, your body going numb to every other feeling apart from the feeling of him ploughing into you. Your vision was starry eyed and you hated it. But you loved it. Sobs began to rack through your body as he spanked you once again, sending waves of pain and pleasure through you.
His pace continued as all you could do was lie there with your hands tied, begging for anything he was willing to give you. But also feeling the familiar sting of too much. But it was never too much. You willed your body to continue on. To not give up the ghost yet. You prayed for your body to fight on. To take every thrust he battered into your throbbing, weeping pussy.
The coil you had almost forgotten existed now in the plains of numb, vacant ability to even string a sentence together, began to tighten again, expecting a fraying spent body, not one this eager for your umpteenth orgasm this evening. Your pussy clenched as he continued, hollow groans you imagine him with his head back as he thrusted into you, licking his perfect lips with that sinful tongue. God, he made you crazy.
"Yoongiiiiii, fuck I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please" your tone indescribable as you panted for breath that escaped you with every thrust as his skin continued to slap against yours.
Suddenly feeling him pull out which almost made you weep but being turned back over onto your back, the tie being ripped from off your head. You were greeted by a furiously sweating Yoongi. Sweat dripping from his dark chocolatey hair just above his eyes. His lips swollen pink from where he had probably been biting on them so much, not to mention when he had used the same lips to devour you not 20 minutes prior. His chest was heaving and lips parted as he gazed at you for a moment.
"I'm seeing that gorgeous face when you cum, no way I'm missing that." He stifled a laugh as he lined himself up with your entrance again after wrapping your legs around his torso.
'They run around beneath our feet, we roll around beneath these sheets'
Sliding in once more you rattled your wrists against the silk tie restraints as you cocked your head back in pleasure. You let out a high pitch moan, almost exasperated in tone, your back arching up into him before slumping back on the bed in defeat. Yoongi almost reading your mind whilst still thrusting inside of you began to untie the ties that bound your wrists. You thanked heaven for your saving grace. You could run your hands through his hair now, feel his sweaty skin beneath your fingertips. And soon after your hands were free he laced them in his own. This also being new to you. You knew the drill when having sex with him. He laid down the ground rules early on. No kissing. No cuddling. No hand holding. So what he did next really sent you through a loop.
"Fuck I'm close." He sighed before leaning down to kiss you.
His lips were salty, battered and bruised much like your own but you didn't care, you kissed back with all your might as he continued to thrust away inside you. Feeling his cock hit that sweet spot again you mewled, breaking the kiss with your head thrown back.
"Here kitten?" He asked, smirk evident in his voice.
You whimpered with a nod as he continued to thrust in the right place, hitting your spot so deliciously you couldn't help cry out when his pace turned rampant and he held your hips in his bone crushing hands, sure to bruise tomorrow. The punishing pace was set as his hips bucked into you and you tried to grab at anything you could, finding no sturdy comfort in the crisp white hotel sheets beneath you. Your breathing was erratic, you hadn't realised you'd been sweating until now, although not as much as the man above you. You watched in distracted awe at the sweat running down his broad chest, along his stomach and down to where his cock was pummelling into you.
You could feel it again, serious this time. Your orgasm creeping up on you faster than any bullet. Your legs tingled and your toes curled. Your knees felt like they would break and your arms felt detached from the rest of your body. In the last moments you saw him gazing down at you, exasperated, fucked out beyond belief. But smiling. You reached up at the nape of his neck and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips against his as you succumbed to the pleasure that wreaked havoc throughout your body. A heart wrenching shout came from your lips. In every moment, a glitch of your body as it spasmed with unruly disregard and poor timing. Your pussy clenched repeatedly on his cock while he continued to thrust inside of you.
"Oh fuuuck, I'm coming." He groaned into your neck as he used hard, purposeful thrusts as he came in the condom.
'He's coming down, coming down'
The sweat that accumulated on both your bodies cemented you together for moments after. All pretence and notions suspended as you both caught your breath back. Heaving. Breathing one another in. Soon Yoongi peeled himself off of you and went to remove the condom. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Stars still there. You weren't imagining it in the end. Scraping your hair from off your face as you wiped the sweat from your brow. Soon he returned, bouncing onto the bed next to you, looking up at you in adoration almost. A nervous smile present on his lips as if he didn't just drag you to the 7th layer of hell with him. Or was it heaven? You could never be sure.
You looked over at him with heavy lids, inquisitive look on your face as he swept hair from your shoulder. Looking down at you with that same smile. Before -
"You fancy going on a date, some time?"
© sunnysidejoon - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.
NOW Mr Min is usually not my main man but i can't help it, just, shit okay Min Yoongi.
I realise I'm probably going to hell for this but we joon
Hope you guys enjoyed, working on the next installment as we speak 🤪 if you want to be added to a taglist let me know 🥴
Love Always
Mac 🧡💜
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