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#turning off every light and sound source in the apartment
amrv-5 · 1 year
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Insane stress dreams but imagerywise they do rule every time
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goldenstring6123 · 2 months
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a quickie request LISTEN LISTEN HEAR ME OUT…… sylus fingering reader so so so hard and fast with his long ass fingers and you’re arching up in pleasure and he’s breathing into your mouth, hard against your thigh….. 🌚 (sometimes my own thoughts remind me i have no shame 🙏)
Sylus: Putting you to sleep
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Warning: 2.3k word Smut, 18+ only! MDNI, AFAB!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, Fingering, Nipple play, slight begging, quickies (?)
Author's note: hehe, this ain't a full blown sex yet but here ya go!
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"How long do you plan on staring, sweetie?" the tall silver-haired man lowered his balled fists to his hips, promptly turning towards your figure, which leaned by the doorpost. You dawned on messy hair, a tight black undershirt, and night shorts. It took him no less than a second to piece that you just woke up.
"Couldn't sleep." You stated.
Sylus shifted his weight to the other leg. "Would you like me to do something about it?" sincerely, he offered, yet his ruby red eyes flickering with roguish intent.
"Is there anything you can do?" You can't help but ask. With Sylus offering to aid your sleepless fatigue a million thoughts raced through your mind. He could knock you out to sleep, or maybe he'll ask you to spar with him. Whatever it was, you were ready to turn him down.
"Of course. What kind of lover would I be?" He took his sweet time undoing his wrist wrap; meanwhile, you took your sweet and ample time to approach the boxing ring. Everything else was by far dim apart from that platform.
It was silent. Any sound echoed in the combat room, reverberating against the metal posts and cement walls. It was 2 am, and not a single soul was in sight. You weren't sure if you were scared that you were both alone or at peace because Sylus was with you.
He took off his black undershirt and threw it aside shortly after; he hopped down with a large thud and stood before you, his broad figure looming ominously.
"Sylus?" you called. He moved his hand and flicked his fingers behind you. The only source of light that made you see is now gone. A few seconds more, as you feel Sylus' hands slither around your exposed waist, a silver moonlight peering through the windows turning red.
You wanted to say something, but you dared not do it.
His touch was warm as it dragged against your skin, leaving a stinging heat in its wake. Soon enough, another hand landed on your body and thighs, gliding like paper. Softly, Sylus' fingers traversed the top of your thighs, sliding lower and lower until he grasped the underside of your thigh.
Sylus yanked you closer, your thigh upwards. A muffled gasp erupted from your lips the moment your chest pressed against his torso. The heat that emanated from his body made yours tingle, yet to the touch, it was wet and slippery from the sweat of his workout.
"You're unusually quiet," He whispered against your ear. His teeth nibbled the lobe of your ears. A shiver traveled down your spine, sensitivity only then being realized. You didn't want to reply. You were on a thin thread between tiredness and lasciviousness; you no longer had the energy to deal with other feelings.
Once in a while, it was all right to let Sylus take the lead.
He grinded his body against yours, rubbing every surface of your body. The thin strap of your undershirt falls down to your shoulder as if taunting your partner to pull it off further. Sylus could feel your breasts against his abdomen. Supple and soft, your nipples slowly work themselves against the cloth.
You heard shifting from around you, and you could hear the clothes and cushions gather near your footing. Sylus buried his nose in the crook of your neck, placing a wet kiss near your collarbone. He pushed you back, and you fell onto the soft mattress and fabric. Sylus knelt in between your parted legs, one hand on your knee and one on the side near your waist.
Your chest heaved up and down, cleavage well exposed as your undershirt became more and more rumpled against your body. Your stomach was exposed, and your shorts were rendered practically useless with how you felt, as if you had nothing on. You couldn't help but blame it on your lover as well, his glowing eyes staring at every crevice of your body as he methodically planned on how to devour you.
Sylus didn't want to waste any more time. He took advantage of your parted lips and crashed it against his own. His tongue asked no permission and entered your mouth, the sluggish muscle probing, prodding against your tongue. He tasted like wine. You were intoxicated. He needed to explore you again. As if it was his first time. Grunts escaped his mouth, reverberating as he savored the taste of you.
Your chest burned. It yearned for air, yet the depraving sensation sent your body on edge, sending pulses to your very core. You let out moans as Sylus parted his lips from yours. His hands were back to where it was: on your body. Teasingly, his long fingers slid under the stretchy cloth of your cloth.
He was taking his sweet time. But you were impatient.
You hurriedly lifted your undershirt over your chest, the chilly yet dry air finally blowing on your breasts. You grabbed your lover's big hand and guided it to your left breast, the thing fitting in his grasp all too well. You could see him smile even in the dark. "Don't tease," you demanded.
His hands began to work, to knead. Sylus basked at the feeling of your lithe tits. He brought his mouth lower and lower through the sloppy and wet kisses, from your collarbone to your cleavage, and in one second, he suckled on your breast.
"haah…" You let out, arching your back at the electrifying cold of his tongue against your perked nipple. His tongue flicked up and down, threading lightly on your sensitive tip before sucking. That was enough to make you elicit another moan.
His spare hand traveled lower and lower, this time slipping underneath the garter of your shorts. He used his EVOL again, and the piece of apparel slipped off in one swift motion, leaving you in your underwear.
Two fingers danced on top of your lingerie, circling your pelvis before languidly trailing lower, just above your clit. "Hng…" you could feel the finger brush past it, pressing your entrance lightly through the cloth. "Why do you…Ah—" He flicked at your clit and nibbled at your nipple. "—Keep on teasing?"
He hummed, offering no form of response. His two fingers finally showed some generosity, fully pushing against your clit while ever so slightly rubbing left and right. Your muscles tensed every time he rubbed; you couldn't help but puff out your chest as well, feeding it onto his mouth more.
The rubbing turned circular, fast, rushed, meant to make you nearly scream from the electrical bolts of pressure that traversed from your pussy, down to your legs, up to your breasts, and to your neck. You were trying your best to keep still, but with Sylus playing with you, it seemed like a farfetched goal. "Ah…Mhn!" He pulled his finger away and tore off the last remaining cloth that covered your lower parts.
You felt his fingers glide up and down the inside of your folds, brushing lightly on your entrance while also hitting your clit. He was doing it lightly to slather your own slick across your cunt and let a thick coat of slimy translucent liquid form a thin sheet over it.
You twitched at every sensation— Sylus had always been good with his hands. Be it with a weapon or with you. His long fingers can make you heed his command; at times like these, you let yourself submit. Then, without warning, Sylus slipped his middle finger in your hole, burying it until his knuckles touched your entrance.
"AH?!" Long. His fingers were fucking long!
In some sort of way, when he pierced inside you, it rubbed your g spot, which made you arch your back once more. The finger inside you curled up, pressing against that overly tender and hot walls of flesh that hugged it tightly. Your lover was generous enough to start with shallow thrusts. Yet, you could still hear the crude, squelching noises. As a few seconds pass, his light, shallow thrusts become more and more aggressive, pulling in and out, stretching the ring of your entrance.
Mewls and moans escaped your throat no matter how hard you tried to swallow it in. It did not help that the sounds you were making echoed around the training room, making you hear how you sounded.
Another finger slipped in, and that's when you felt the stretch. Sylus' finger moved in sync, hooking onto that one sport that made you tremble. He scissored his fingers and opened them wide, stretching you out too. The palm of his hand slaps against your skin, imitating a weak slapping sound, yet with it comes the squelch of your juices, overflowing out of your womanhood and trickling down to the mattress.
You gripped the cloth and cushion, hoping it could anchor you down, and it did its job somehow. Waves of pleasure overcame you as he continued to thrust, occasionally rubbing your clit with his thumb. You twisted and turned, even threatening to close your thighs at the sheer pleasure, but Sylus wouldn't let you.
He kissed you in between actions, muffling out your cries and slipping in his tongue without consideration. You were on the verge of your own sanity, the only sensation left being the quick pooling of pleasure at the bottom of your stomach. You were nowhere near your climax when he pulled out of you quickly.
"No! Sylus!" You cried, pushing yourself up to look at him. Under the red light, you saw him move his hand again, and you were suddenly enveloped by the dark mist of his evil, pulling you up and settling you on Sylus's lap.
You rested your arms on his broad shoulders, placing your weight on your knees, which were spread to his side. Slowly, the discharge in your pussy began to trickle down your thigh as nothing was plugging it up.
"Sylus—fingers." You demanded, biting his ear. He happily obliged with your requests, and soon enough, three fingers were pumping up your hole. His movements were erratic, switching between shallow and deep thrusts while simultaneously applying pressure on the tip of his fingers against your G-spot.
Your body twitched, and your eyes watered. To hide your scandalous moans, you kissed Sylus over and over again, him breathing into your mouth as you cried out his name. You could feel his Cock tight against his boxing shorts, yet you didn't want to take it out.
You were more than sure that you couldn't take it. With the state of your body and what your lover was doing to you, you were going to pass out the moment you hit your peak.
Sylus wasn't slowing down. Rougher and rougher, his hands worked with a rigorous desire to help you come. His whole hand was slathered with your juices, his ears filled with your delightful moans, which you failed to hide. His mouth sucked on your breasts, and his nose savored the raw scent of your body. Sylus never gets enough of these, and as much as he would've wanted to pound into it, he was too entranced by the moment.
The tips of your fingers began to heat up, your muscles turning tense as a cold sweat scattered through the back of your neck. Hurriedly, the pleasure pooled in your stomach overwhelmed you, filling you up and churning your core, "Sylus…" You called, almost begging. "I'm close….Mhng!" You throw your head forward, your mouth against his ear, as you no longer hold back your cries of pleasure.
"Ah! Ahnm! Hnng!" You let out.
You felt his thumb rub your clit again, and you bucked your hips forward, his fingers ramming your beloved spot roughly, repeatedly, torturously. You feel yourself well up, the heat in your stomach growing larger and larger the more Sylus rubs your clit. "Sylus…Sylus, Please, Sylus— I'm almost there!" You grabbed onto his hair for dear life, yanking it back before sloppily kissing him.
An electrifying ripple bloomed out from your pussy, making your lower region jolt at his continuous movements. You throw your head back and let out a scream laced with pleasure and desire— You can only see white as your insides throb, clutching onto the fingers that made you feel full.
God, that felt fucking amazing.
As you savored the high of your orgasm, Sylus looked up at you as he pressed his own face against your breast, marveling at the sight of you reaching your peak, reveling the loud and unconcealable thumps of your chest. He kissed your breasts and then your heart, slowly supporting your weight as you come down from your high.
He laid you down on the mattress ever so gently, brushing the sweat-riddled hair that stuck onto your face. Your eyes can't help but flutter shut, still savoring the last remnants of your orgasm. Tiredness washed over your body like the sea crashing onto the shoreline; with it, it brought relaxation and ease.
"Thank you," you whisper as you finally fall asleep.
Using his EVOL for the last time, Sylus gathered the clothes scattered around you and chucked them with his own. His towel from the wooden benches floated, promptly spreading and covering your exposed body. He picked you up, disregarding his own stiff manhood tucked in his pants.
He can deal with that later. For now, he should bring you back to your room and clean you up. The last thing he wants is for you to get sick.
Of course, Sylus didn't do this for free. He never does anything for free. You'd be a fool if you think he did.
Whether you know it or not, he'll make you compensate, and just your luck: he's getting up early tomorrow and more than eager to hear your cries again in the morning.
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Author footnotes: With the amount of Sylus smut that I read, I wanted to write him without speaking much, y'know? just focusing on you and not coming up with witty replies to every word you say.Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by cafekitsune & me!
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enha-stars · 3 months
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✧ Matchy, matchy ; S.J
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Pairing: Bf!Jake x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: To be loved is to be known. And you were. And he was, too. You knew him and he knew you, and neither of you would have it any other way.
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, down bad jake, down bad reader, freak: matched (lovingly), abandoned food, kissing, suggestive, gift giving as a love language,
A/n: happy anniversary to my beloved, @karinasbaby . My love for her inspired this, so… comeback?? Possibly. Stay tuned.
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In the dimly lit, slightly damp hallway, Jake carefully turned the key in the lock, pushing the door open with the gentlest of nudges to avoid any noise. He slipped inside his apartment, his footsteps silent against the hardwood floor. The soft glow of evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warmth hue over the room.
He was about to head to your shared bedroom when an enticing aroma caught his attention, causing him to stop mid-step. His heart skipped a beat as he realized the source of the delightful smell was in fact, coming from his kitchen.
Tip-toeing closer, Jake poked his head into the kitchen to the sight of you standing at the stove, your back turned to him. You were humming a soft tune, completely absorbed in your cooking. The sight of you, dressed in one of his old t-shirts, hair loosely tied up, glasses resting on your head, made his heart swell until it almost burst out of his chest. 
Jake’s lips curved into a bright smile as he quietly moved towards you, setting the gift bag down by the wall. Careful not to make a sound, he reached your side and paused for a moment, taking in the scene. The table was set for two, candles ready to be lit, and the counters were adorned with fresh ingredients. Jake recognized the variety on the table and his smile widened. He knew what avocados and limes meant and his stomach rumbled.
Unable to resist any longer, he stepped forward and gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You let out a small gasp of surprise, dropping the spoon you were holding as you turned your head to look at him, heart beating rapidly and eyes wide.
“Jake! Oh my gosh,” you exhaled, trying to catch your breath. “You scared me.” The smile that had twisted onto your lips and the sparkle in your shiny eyes told him that he had the same affect on you that you had on him. 
Jake kissed your cheek softly, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, angel.” He did, and she knew it, too. “I just couldn’t resist.” 
You laughed, a sound he was sure the tides pushed towards because you were a celestial being to him, bright and unearthly. If he could bottle your laugh and drink it, have it swim in his veins forever, he would. 
“Well, I missed you and I wanted to surprise you. How was the harbor?” You picked up the spoon once more and stirred the pot of beans and ground meat. Knowing this mood of his, you turned off the stove. 
You wouldn’t be eating anytime soon, anyways. 
“It was okay,” he murmured, tightening his embrace. “Riki fell into the water but it only reached his hips.” He grinned against your skin when you snickered. He could feel your body shake beneath his hands and he pressed himself against you tighter. “I missed you, baby.” 
You turned in his arms, facing him fully. Your eyes met his and you could feel every ounce of stress, every fleeting miscellaneous thought, fade away. His eyes, shiny and sparkling, held yours with nothing but heat and affection. 
Jake swallowed, afraid to blink. He was afraid that if he blinked, you may disappear. It didn’t matter how long he had you, he wanted you for longer. He wanted forever. Eternity, even, if he could ask for it. 
Your eyes glazed over his face, taking him in after not seeing him for a few hours. There was a small smudge of dirt under his right eye and you did the only thing you could do. Holding his chin in place, you licked your thumb and rubbed the dirt off his face. 
Jake stared at you feverishly, eyes on your face; taking in the way you slightly pouted your lips, sticking your tongue out a bit. It was a habit you had learned from him, one he cursed himself for all the time.
“There,” you mumbled to yourself. “All clean.” You dropped your hands to his chest and met his gaze. The warmth in it almost made your legs buckle but his grip held you upright. 
“I love you,” he said. Before you could say anything, he dipped his head towards yours. His lips hovered above your own as he whispered, “I got you something.” 
Your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head up, trying to meet his lips but he stayed slightly out of reach, forever teasing you. “Yeah? What’d you get me?”
Jake almost gave in, feeling your warm breath against his lips. He wanted to kiss you until you forgot your name, but he enjoyed this. He enjoyed making you wait, the push and pull.
“It’s a surprise,” he mumbled. “You have to sit on the couch.” His lips briefly, for the lightest of seconds, brushed against yours and you almost whined out his name. 
“Jake,” you exhaled, eyes squeezed shut. Jake loved you like this; all bothered and slightly desperate for him. Usually, he was the one like this, the one on the cusp of begging and asking. When he got you like this, oh, you looked stunning. “Come on,” you tried. “Tell me.” 
Jake simply shook his head, his lips brushing against yours tantalizing. “Gotta wait, angel.” His lips curled upwards at the small noise of frustration you made and he stepped back, hands dropping to his side. He watched with heated eyes as you blinked back into yourself. He loved being the only one to have you like this. 
Before he could take another step back, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards you, smashing your lips together. You swallow his slight gasp of surprise and smile against his lips as he melts into it, hands cupping the sides of your face as your lips move harshly against each other. 
Unable to help himself, Jake steps forward and pushes you backwards until your back is flush against the counter. The slight dig makes you gasp in pleasurable pain and he slips his tongue inside your mouth, laying claim to what already belongs to him. He grips the counter, caging you in.
You clutch his shirt, lips moving roughly against his. Jake slots his knee between your legs and the new pressure manages to pull a breathy moan out of you. Jake pulls away, eyes still shut as he tries to catch his breath. There’s a string of saliva that connects your bruised lips and he presses his lips against yours softly, licking your lips clean. 
“Fuck,” he exhales. He opens his eyes and almost groans at the sight of you; breathing deeply, lips red and plump, eyes slightly dazed. You looked almost fucked out and he hasn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” 
You laughed at his words and slid your hands up to the base of his neck. “So, this gift…” 
Grinning, Jake nipped at your lips before stepping back. “Go sit on the couch, pretty.” He simply shook his head when you frowned at him and he watched you reluctantly walk out of the kitchen and into the living room with eyes filled to the brim with adoration. 
He waited until he heard you fall back onto the couch. Even then, you called out and let him know you were sitting. He was sure his heart was going to burst out his ribs and break through his skin with the amount of love and affection he felt for you. 
Grabbing the small gift bag, Jake made his way to you. When you heard his footsteps, you straightened your back and turned to face him, giving him your utmost attention. Jake often gifted you small, minuscule things, and you loved and appreciated every single thing. It was how he loved, and so you always made sure to focus on him and what his gift was telling you. 
Kneeling down in front of you, he looked up at you as you shifted to the edge of the sofa. You spread your legs a bit and he shuffled between them. His lips twisted and you pinched his nose, immediately seeing the flicker of heat and desire that spread through his eyes. “Don’t even think about it,” you warned. 
“Jokes on you,” he smirked. “I’m always thinking about it.” 
You raised an eyebrow at him and traced the outline of his lips. “Freak.” 
“Matched,” he countered, licking your finger when you pressed it down on his bottom lip. 
You both grinned at each other before he cleared his throat and lifted the gift bag, moving it towards you. Gently, like it was made of gold, which to you, it practically was, you grabbed it and set it down on your thigh. 
Jake watched you curiously as you picked the gift wrapping sheets out of the bag. He stopped breathing momentarily when you reached into the bag and pulled out a small, coffee coloured teddy bear plushie. 
His eyes, which could never and would never stray from you, focused on your expression; the way your eyes widened in surprise and then fondness, the way your small smile twisted into a wide grin before your lips parted in content. He watched as your eyebrows raised in surprise, the way your eyes crinkled. 
You looked so happy, so adorable as you gently patted the bear's head. Lost in the gift, you barely noticed Jake’s warm gaze and the way he shuffled forward, resting his cheek against your other thigh. He was more than pleased with staring at you like this forever. 
“Jake,” you whispered, pulling him out of his staring. He blinked and lifted his head, shaking the hair out of his face. With one hand, you held the bear tightly. With the other, you brushed his hair out his face, smiling a little wobbly. “I love him. What’s the special occasion?” 
Jake shrugged, slightly overcome with emotion. He didn’t think he would be, but you had that effect on him. “It’s uh, well,” he licked his lips. “I saw him at the harbor and thought of you. I knew I had to win it for you.” 
You stared at him, eyes widening at his words before you bit your bottom lip. You glanced at the bear in your hands and let out a quiet chuckle. At the sound, Jake looked back at you, eyes sparkling. 
“Jake,” you sighed. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. His eyes shut automatically and he breathed out in content. “This is actually really funny,” you murmured against his skin. 
“Hm?”
Pulling away, you set the bear down beside you and tapped his head twice. He opened his eyes and frowned in confusion when you motioned for him to move. Looking like a kicked puppy, he shuffled backwards and gave you enough space to get up. 
From the carpet, he watched you as you walked to the breakfast table. You pulled a chair back and grabbed something he couldn’t see. Hiding the item from his sight, you turned to face him. There was a twinkle in your eye, one he loved to see but didn’t understand. 
“Sit up on the couch for me, baby.” You motioned him to get up with your head and like the obedient boyfriend he was, he pushed himself off the carpet and fell back onto the sofa. 
Satisfied, you walked towards him, hiding the item behind your back. Jake tried to glance around you but with one look, he sulked into the couch, crossing his arms. Tsking, you sank to your knees and he immediately spread his legs. 
Your eyes traveled from his thighs up to his eyes and his eyes crinkled in amusement, an arrogant smirk ghosting on his lips. “Thinking about it, aren’t you, angel?”
You licked your lips, trying to focus on the present in your hands. “Don’t be freaky right now, Jake. We’re trying to be sentimental.” 
“So you are thinking about it,” he mused, spreading his legs further. You blinked and tried to ignore his tactics. It wasn’t even your fault really, not when his feelings and excitement were practically staring right in the face. 
Clearing your throat, you pinched his thigh to get his mind out of the gutter. Once the lust in his eyes died down a bit, you smiled bashfully at him. 
“What’re you hiding, angel? What’s in your hand?” He tried to hide the curiosity in his voice but you caught it. Because, while he liked to give you things, you also liked to give him things. Despite his calm demeanor, you knew he was always excited. Just like you were. 
Gosh, the stars really did love you both. 
“Well,” you started. “It’s funny that you got me that bear because I…” When your explanation fell short, you brought the bear in your hand towards Jake, handing it to him. He stared at the chocolate covered teddy bear in pure astonishment, almost like it couldn’t be real. 
You shuffled forward, resting your hand on his thigh. Rubbing small circles on his skin, you tried to ground him. Despite getting small gifts from you all the time, he took them each to heart. You wondered when he would accept the love he deserved. 
With a gentleness that made your stomach tingle, he held the bear carefully in his hand. It was small in his hands, but the weight of it felt almost overwhelming. You watched as his eyes glistened with something adoring, the way his lips parted prettily, curving into a smile so bright and beautiful it could have blinded you. 
“Angel,” his voice was hoarse with emotion, “why did you… how?” With soft, featherlike fingers, he caressed the bear as if it was your skin. His eyes were filled with wonder and if you could have captured this moment in its exactness, you would have lived in it. 
“I saw it the other day while I was shopping. It reminded me of you so I bought it.” 
Your words snapped something in him and he set the bear down, eyes ablaze. You barely got enough time to look at him before he scooped you into his arms and set you in his lap. Blinking, you stared at him, dumbfounded. 
With your legs on either side of him, you shuffled a bit closer until you were comfortable. Then, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, his hands wrapping around your waist. 
“Hi,” you whispered. 
His lips wobbled and he brushed his nose against yours. “Hi, angel.” 
“So, do you like the bear I got you?” 
Pressing a kiss to your jaw, he nodded. “I love it so much. So, so, much. I can’t believe we got matching plushies accidentally.” 
You laughed and kissed the edge of his smile, wanting to bask in it forever. “We match each other's freaks so well. We’re practically soulmates at this point.” 
Pulling away, he gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “The fuck you mean practically? We are soulmates. I’m marrying you. We’re going to die together and be buried together in one casket.” 
“Oh.” You grinned at him. “Okay, baby. Whatever you say.” 
He tiled your head upwards and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Then, he grabbed both of the bears and handed you yours while he kept his close to his chest. “What are you naming him?” 
You hummed in thought and stared at the bear in your hand. Naming your plushies was important to you. Names were important, and they had to be meaningful. Jake shouldn’t have been so turned on while watching you think of a name for a plushie, but he was. He knew you could feel it, but, having your priorities straight, you ignored him. 
“I kind of like Buoy.” 
Jake blinked at you before he softly laughed, amazed at your naming ability. “Buoy?” 
“Yeah, Buoy. Named after that slightly orange buoy by the harbor. That, and you’re my anchor. Always keeping me afloat and all.” 
Jake wasn’t a crier, but the amount of times he had almost burst into years tonight had hit a new record. Trying to swallow the emotion that bubbled in his throat, he rested his head against your chest, hiding in your embrace. You laughed at his antics and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 
“What about you? What are you naming her?” 
Jake lifted his head and the look in his eyes made you hold your breath. You could feel every single vein in your body vibrate and you knew you were in for a long night. 
“I’m naming her Quesadilla.” The seriousness in his voice threw you off and you weren’t sure if you should laugh or clap him on the back. Instead, you simply raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Why Quesadilla?” 
“I’m naming her that in honour of the quesadillas we won’t be eating tonight.” 
“What are you–” You were cut off by Jake tightening his grip on you and flipping you over. A surprised laugh escaped your lips as you found yourself lying beneath him on the couch, his body hovering over yours.
You weren’t sure where your bears had gone, but that was the least of your worries. Jake leaned down, his face inches from yours, eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart beat in your ears.  “I’m only hungry for you tonight, pretty girl.” His lips hovered above your own and your throat went dry. 
You reached up, your hand cupping his cheek as you smiled up at him. “Have me then, Jake.” 
Jake’s expression softened and he closed the distance between you, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. It was a simple tease, a highlight as to how the night was going to go, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
You would, after all, have your fun after he had his. 
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rinhaler · 7 months
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So Tell Me What You Need
oliver aiku really really likes you ♡
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ yandere!oliver aiku x f!reader
Genre: college!au (++ smut) Notes: thank u 2 @chososdoll for doing gods work with this fic i hated it hehehe Warnings: 18+, serial killer mention, murder mention, weed mention, smoking, stalking ♡, manipulation, dub/noncon, 'just the tip' ♡, coercion, oral (m receiving), cock slapping ♡, facial, creampie ♡, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, etc.) ♡ Words: 7.2k
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The body of a young woman was discovered in the early hours of Thursday morning. It’s the third body in the last five months to be found, and an inside source has revealed that this is thought to be a pattern by one killer. The victims are all female and—
Your heart pounds as you shut off the TV in your front room. It’s the last thing you want to hear as the windows reveal the dark night sky outside. You don’t even see the stars above; the light pollution takes that comfort from you. All you can see is rows of apartments opposite to your own, some lit and some dim. Some with funky colours but most are warm white.
And your face flushes with heat as you notice one of the latter have a couple fucking up against a window before you turn away to face your roommate.
She notes your concern, but chooses to smirk and poke fun anyway.
“Maybe it’s your stalker,” she teases you. “You might be next.”
“That’s not funny.” you sigh, storming off to your room. You wince as you look at the abandoned study materials at your desk. You’ve been putting everything off for weeks, but your coursework and exams are the last thing on your mind.
You find yourself pacing around a little before you eventually decide to sit on the edge of your bed. There’s no way you can possibly sleep after hearing that. And your roommate’s poor joke has only made you more paranoid. So, what is there left to do?
Music might help, you think to yourself as you unlock your phone. You can barely do anything as your fingers begin to tremor while you look through your playlists. You’re interrupted, though, as a call from an unknown number fills your screen.
You mask your fear with anger, grunting as you swing open your bedroom door to yell at your friend.
“Stop it, Lacey! I’m going to have nightmares, I’m serious!” you yell. She looks at you, confused. You hold up your phone to show her the incoming call. But her eyes drop to the coffee table, her own phone discarded on top of it in favour of smoking from her bong.
“Answer it.” she urges you.
And you gulp, nodding, sliding the button across the bottom of the touch screen to take the call. You steel yourself, already knowing what’s coming as soon as you speak. It’s the same thing every single time. You don’t say a word, not for a few seconds. There isn’t a sound from either of you as you sit on the couch while your roommate’s eyes follow you.
“Hello?” you say, meekly.
It begins.
The heavy, repetitive breathing that sends a chill down your spine. She looks concerned, now. It’s the first time she’s been present when you’ve received a call. You’d started to suspect she didn’t believe you.
“Who the fuck is this?” she yells, snatching the phone from your hand. Their breathing stutters, it’s barely noticeable but you both pick up on it. It’s enough to make her hang up. “I— you should stay in my room tonight. W-With me.”
“Are you scared?” you ask her, earnestly. She doesn’t respond, but the fact that she’s packing away her drug paraphernalia is answer enough. “Thank you.” you smile, though you leave the room as you do.
You start scrolling through your contacts on instinct, tossing your phone onto your bed as you find the number you’re searching for and put it on loudspeaker as it dials. It rings and rings, and you start to worry you won’t get through. You undress, taking off your clothes from the day to change into your pyjamas.
“Hey you,” he starts. “S’pretty late, baby. Somethin’ wrong?”
“Oliver…” you start, legs buckling at the sound of his voice as you feel a combination of relief and guilt surge through you. You sniff, the pressure of your fear and other underlying emotions doing their best to overwhelm you. “My— The stalker called. Again.” you tell him, and you’re instantly met with a sympathetic coo.
“Do you want me to come over?” he asks. “Or do you wanna come here? I’ll pick you up, princess, s’not a problem.” he continues. You shake your head despite him not being able to see.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Sorry, I was just freaking out. Nice to hear your voice, though…” you smile a little, feeling shy all of a sudden.
“Alright. Only if you’re sure.” he speaks, clearing his throat. “I miss you, though. You better let me see that pretty face of yours soon.”
“Okay,” your smile widens. Once again nodding knowing he can’t actually see you right now. “Goodnight Oli.”
“Goodnight, gorgeous.”
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Sharing a bed with your roommate helped. You didn’t even mind her snoring, it’s not like you’d expected to get much sleep anyway. You got enough to get you through the day, though. Classes went by without incident, and you didn’t feel yourself wavering at lunchtime like you have been recently.
The calls are unpredictable, you’re always on edge. There’s no specific times or days or even how many times he’ll call.
You walk back to your apartment alone. The winter sucks. It’s not particularly cold, but it’s dark when you get to your classes and then it’s dark again when you leave for the day. You feel like you’re going crazy, and you can’t pretend you aren’t scared of being outside alone when it’s so dark out.
A text notification frightens you enough to almost drop your phone. You don’t even remember turning your phone off silent. Though you can’t help but grin when you see who it’s from.
Oli: Wanna hang out tonight?
You: I’m too behind on my coursework ☹
You: Another time? x
Oli: Okay princess x
You take a deep breath, pocketing your phone as you continue your journey to your apartment. The elevator isn’t empty, but you don’t mind. If anything, you feel a little better to be around people. Your music plays softly through your earphones the whole time, and your anxiety finally begins to dissipate.
Although, it comes flooding back when you get to the door of your apartment.
It’s locked.
And, normally, that would be fine. But Lacey always finishes early on Monday’s. And she’s always home before you get here. Your mind instantly flickers to the phone calls. The stalker.
The news report last night.
Little hands tremble as you search pathetically through your tote bag until you find your keys. The metal clings and clangs as you search for the right one; you jump as they fall from your hands. Eventually, though, the right one is in your grasp and you open the door quickly.
There’s no sign of her. She isn’t smoking in the front room like you expect. You open her bedroom door without knocking, only to discover she isn’t there either. Deep breaths are taken in vain. You try to call her, but there’s no answer.
You: Are you okay?? Call me ASAP
Lacey: I’m fine! I’m at the frat hanging out with Eita 😇
“Oh thank God.” you sigh, all but falling to your knees when you read her reply. Instantly, you can’t help but think about what a slut she is when you think about her failing to tell you her plans because she’s decided to sneak off to ‘hang out’ with her toxic friend with benefits.
Your mind is clear, though your heart is still beating a mile a minute.
Oli: You’re really just gonna study all night? X
You: Thinking about ordering a pizza :P x
Oli: I like pizza you know 🙄x
You: Next time! Promise x
It’s crazy. It’s embarrassing, actually, how quickly he can put you at ease. You’ve only known him for a few months, but it feels like you’ve known him forever. You sigh, dreamily, as you recall how he had introduced himself to you and Lacey during welcome week. He had to squeeze in the fact he was the president of the most popular frat on campus.
Even then, he made you blush. Though you couldn’t act on it; you’d had a boyfriend at the time. But you’ve been single for almost as long as you’ve known Oli, since you dumped him a week or two after; when you realised you didn’t love him anymore. And, still, nothing has happened between you and Oliver.
You’re scared, truthfully.
You’re scared because you know he’s experienced and he’s confident. You know girls throw themselves at him and he knows he’s popular. You’re not a virgin, but compared to him you may as well be.
After clearing your throat and shaking your head to dismiss your train of thought, you start looking for food to add to your basket from your favourite pizza place. It’s so hard to choose, as much as you’d love to get everything, you’re basically broke.
Incoming call.
“Please, no.” your voice breaks as you speak out loud.
You shouldn’t answer. The number is private and you already know what’s going to happen. But you’ve tried that before. You’ve tried ignoring them, but they just keep calling until you answer.
You’re frozen, paralysed with fear as you contemplate what to do. Lacey isn’t here to support you this time. She won’t be coming back, either. So, do you really want to answer? Do you really want to deal with how many calls you’ll receive if you don’t?
The burden of dealing with this alone is too much to bear.
But you’ve been left with no other choice.
“H-Hello?” you whimper, eager to get it over with. The breathing starts, and you’re surprised that this time it’s enough to make you cry. And it’s not just a few tears falling. Whoever is on the other end of the call will undoubtedly know what you’ve been reduced to. “Please stop doing this. W-What do you want from me?” you cry.
It's useless, though, the breathing just continues.
“I can’t t-take it anymore, please, p-please…”
“Mmmmpf,” you hear, it’s cracked and strained and it makes you feel sick. You aren’t sure if you’re imagining things, or if this sicko is actually getting off to the sound of your anguish and desperate pleas. “Thank you.” they say, the voice is deep and distorted but it’s clear as day.
Your breath is trapped in your lungs. And for the first time, they hang up.
You just can’t anymore.
Can’t breathe.
Can’t function.
Can’t think.
You can think enough to call Oli, though. Tremoring digits manage to navigate away from the takeout website to bring up your text thread with Oliver once more. And you don’t hesitate to press the call button.
Your eyes are soaked, vision blurry like a smudged camera lens as you look around your barren apartment while you wait for him to pick up.
“Hi gorgeous,” he answers, a seductive lilt in his tone. If you weren’t so worked up, you’d be flustered. You can picture the smirk on his face as he talks, though you aren’t really listening. “What’s up, baby? Calling to brag about that pizza?”
“O-li.” you sniff, voice cracking after each vowel. He’s silent, but you hear him move. Like he’s sitting upright suddenly, ready to spring into action to rescue you. “He c-called. Again, Oli… again—”
“Shit.” he sighs. “Do you want me to—”
“Please… come get me. ‘m so scared, don’t wanna be here a-alone.” you whine.
“I’m on my way.” he tells you. “I won’t be long, baby. I promise. See ya soon, princess.” he finishes, cutting off the line as he rushes to his car.
Your body stiffens as the silence of your apartment hits you once more. You can’t waste time, though. So, you pack. You’re quick about it, too. You fill your biggest bag with toiletries, a change of clothes and sleepwear… and your coursework.
There’s no way you’ll be doing any work tonight, but you can at least pretend you’re functioning like normal. You can’t let this creep dictate your entire life, right? Maybe being with Oliver will actually keep you calm enough to actually get some of your work started.
Oli: I’m outside x
The black night sky makes your heart race as you walk out of your apartment. The winter cold is harsher in the bleak evenings. Your thin sweater isn’t enough to protect you from the air nipping at your skin.
It’s the least of your worries; all you can think about is the fact this stalker of yours could be watching you right now. It could be anyone. Someone from your class, someone you shared the elevator with, your next-door neighbour. The very thought makes your steps quicken. You’re hurrying to the elevator and bashing the button until it arrives. It’s the first time you’ve felt safe since you left your apartment, because you’re alone. But even then, your skin breaks into goosebumps as you look up at the CCTV camera in the corner.
You’ll never feel safe, not really.
You rush down the road when you see Oliver’s car in the distance. He honks, and it’s all you need to run to him. You’re running like an athlete, and it feels more humiliating than it should. You’re sure Oliver understands why you’re frightened; and you’re sure he won’t judge you for sprinting to the car. But, still, it feels pathetic.
You open the door roughly before you practically dive into the passenger seat. He moves out of the way a little as you throw your overnight bag into the back seat.
“Hey, you’re alright now. Yeah? I’ve got you.” he speaks softly, doing what he can to relax you. You almost melt into his touch as he tucks a hair behind your ear. You do, a little, your body almost melds to the plush leather seat. Your head falls backwards onto the head rest, and your lip begins to wobble. “Poor thing…” he sighs.
“D-Drive, please…” you say, voice weak and strained.
He nods, driving off towards the frat house.
“I wouldn’t worry, you know.” he tells you, putting his hand on your thigh as he drives slow and carefully. You don’t object to his advances, in fact, it’s a comfort to feel his warm hand on your bitter flesh. Even his rough thumb stroking your skin is a welcome feeling. “It’s probably your ex, princess.”
“You think so?” you wonder. “I don’t know… he didn’t take the breakup well, but—”
“You never know what people will resort to when they’re heartbroken, baby.” he tells you, uneven eyes focus on you even as he drives. It makes you nervous, but his calm demeanour forces you to ignore it. You trust him, wholly. “Plus, he knows he lost the best thing that’ll happen to him in his pathetic life.”
“… Oli.” you smile, looking down at your knees as you try to avoid his cocksure stare.
He doesn’t say another word for the rest of the journey.
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You come face to face with Lacey as you walk through the grandiose double doors. You feel like a guest of honour as you enter the castle that Oliver Aiku reigns over. Everyone is filled with warm smiles and happy faces as you see them. But your expression in return is feeble. You try to smile, but you’re so downtrodden, and Lacey immediately knows why.
She doesn’t even care that you don’t say hello when you run by her on the stairs and hurry to Oliver’s room. Oliver remains at the bottom while he watches you flee.
“She got another call.” he informs your roommate.
“Fuck.” she hisses through her teeth as she looks back up the stairs. Her voice is filled with remorse as she thinks things through. “I shouldn’t have left her alone; I knew she was—”
“S’alright, Lace,” Oliver smiles, his pristine pearly whites instantly put her at ease. “You can’t be with her every second, don’t blame yourself.” his eyes are so warm and full of love, she sees it every time he talks about you. He’s good for you, she thinks. He’s so sweet about you and he’s crazy about you.
“Give her our best.” Eita tells him, putting a hand on Lacey’s shoulder as they descend the stairs. “We’re going to smoke in the garden.”
“Enjoy yourselves, kids.” Oliver smirks, winking at them before chasing after you.
He sees you making yourself comfortable in his room. You’re already undressed, and you don’t care that he can see you. He doesn’t dare look away, either. But you don’t mind. He watches as you put on the mismatched pyjamas you threw into your bag, and he sits beside you on the bed after you collapse backwards onto the mattress.
“I’m gonna change my number,” you whisper. “I should have done that in the first place…”
“Good idea.” he agrees. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his hand rest atop your head, his thumb delicately stroking your forehead again and again. He swears he sees you fall asleep for a second before you scare yourself awake with a too heavy breath. “Should we get you that pizza?”
You nod, lightly.
“I’d like that.”
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He’s the perfect gentleman. You’re lucky to know Oli, you think. That’s how you feel anyway, as he watches you in silence while simultaneously encouraging your efforts in getting your schoolwork done.
He was kind, and he was helpful. Telling you that you could take a break or stop all together for the evening when your food arrived. And so, you spent a good while making notes and studying textbooks.
“Atta girl.” he winks at you, teasingly, when you begin to scribble down words onto pages. “I’m proud of you, baby, don’t let that idiot get under your skin.”
“Thanks Oli, I—” you’re cut off by the sound of your phone vibrating. You look over your shoulder and back to the desk you’ve been sitting at for the last 35 minutes. “O-Oli…” you whimper, showing him your phone.
He sets his own phone down on his bedside cabinet as he focuses on yours. It’s them. Oliver takes your phone, eyes furrowed as he debates whether to answer or not - choosing to answer brazenly. He puts it on loudspeaker, if only so you can confirm it is indeed the man who’s been harassing you endlessly.
The breaths are heavy but also stifled. It’s like he’s trying to control himself. He’s trying to be quiet. Oliver looks at you for answers, but you don’t have any for him. You haven’t got a single solitary clue on how to deal with these calls anymore.
Nothing works.
“Keep messing with her, I’ll fuck you up.” he says sternly. He eyes you up to make sure you’re listening to him. He wants you, needs you, to know he’s going to protect you at any cost. “We know who you are, so knock it the fuck off.”
He presses the big red disconnect button and puts your phone down beside you on the desk. He’s a little taken aback when you rush into his arms, your head resting on his firm chest while your arms wrap tightly around his torso. His hand comes down gently on the crown of your head and hear him emit a soft chuckle. You can’t see the small smile etching its way across his face, but you know it’s there.
“I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, okay?” he assures you. You feel like a different person, with him. It’s like you’re having an out of body experience when you find yourself lunging forward on your tippy toes to place your lips against his. His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away. Not right away, at least. He holds your shoulders after a few seconds go by. “Where did that come from?” he smirks.
“I don’t know, sorry… I just—” you’re interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. You back away a little, smiling. “Saved by the bell.” you joke.
“I’ll go,” he closes the gap between you again, bending down to capture your lips in a soft, chaste kiss once again. “Find a movie or something, anything you want.” he whispers against your skin before parting from you.
You shiver, slightly, after he closes the door behind himself. The rational side of you knows that you’re fine. Nothing bad is going to happen right now. But you can’t help feeling safer with Oli around.
Maybe that’s why you kissed him.
You’re just so grateful to him.
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“We should prob’ly go to sleep.”
You nod, agreeing when you see the time tick tick ticking on the plain black clock above his desk. A few hours had passed since the most recent call. You didn’t even pick a movie, you ended up watching some silly gaming videos on YouTube while you ate together.
It was divine.
And you can’t deny the possibility that it tasted better with a smile on your face and good company.
You get under the covers, your body feeling warmer as you watch Oliver circle the bed to turn off the light. He’d decided to forgo wearing anything to cover his chiselled body, and you suspect he did it on purpose.
The room is plunged into darkness until he uses the flashlight on his phone to guide his way back to bed. The mattress sinks behind you as he gets under the covers, and you only just manage to suppress a yelp when he presses his body against yours. You could quite literally dissolve under the pressure.
He smirks against the juncture between your neck and shoulder as he kisses you there, a desperate mewl escaping you in an instant. His hand rests on the curve of your hip, though his thick fingers begin to sink into your malleable flesh. You can’t even bring yourself to protest as you feel him not so subtly nudge his hips into you. And you can feel him.
“Oli… w-we shouldn’t.” you say, softly, the desperation clinging to your tongue gives away your true feelings instantly. You shouldn’t? That’s your opinion, clearly, as a rough hand winds its way around your body and up the baggy unflattering t-shirt you’d decided to wear.
“Are you sure?” he whispers against the hairs standing on end on the back of your neck. Words formulating in your mouth crumble to pieces when he squeezes the supple flesh of your breasts, alternating between them like he’s deciding which is his favourite. He experimentally rolls one of your nipples between his finger and thumb, and he’s mesmerised by the sound you release and the way you back your ass up against his aching length. He offers his own breathy sound in response. It’s almost a gasp. “You like this?” he wonders aloud despite knowing.
And you could cry as you nod.
It’s been so long since you’ve been touched. Since you’ve been loved.
And why should you put your needs on hold just because you’re a little scared?
“What about just the tip, princess?” he mutters, you feel your panties soak through as gravelly words enter your ear canal. He’s that desperate. He needs you that badly that he’s prepared to settle for just the tip. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand how much I need you, baby?”
“We r-really shouldn’t…” you tell him.
Even through the material of the top you’re wearing, you feel his rock hard body pressed heavily into your back. His hard-on makes you dizzy, you may as well be drunk from how much the room is spinning as you do all you can to resist.
“But you want to.” he tells you. He moves you onto your back and cages you in. He brushes his bulging sweats into your heat, his head drooping as he feels so close but so far to what he’s always wanted. Since the very moment he set his sights on you, he wanted this. “I can feel you, princess. You can feel me too, yeah?” he asks.
“Y-Yes, Oli… I feel you.”
“So stop fightin’ it.” he commands, though there’s a level of desperation interlaced with his words. He pulls down his sweats and his cock springs free, slapping against his abs and leaving a sticky smear against his tensing muscles. You whimper when he repeatedly taps his cockhead against your clit, even through the layers you’re wearing to cover it. Your toes curl. “Just the tip, sweetheart. C’mon, for me… been waiting so long for this.”
You don’t even answer before he hooks deft fingers into the waistline of your shorts. He leaves your panties, though. And you yelp as his fingers tease the pretty lace covering your drippy folds. He hums, he moans as his fingers run along the clothed length of your slit.
“You’re fucking soaking, baby. You need this cock, please. Let me fuck you. Why are you tryna deny yourself of a good time?”
And with that, you find yourself nodding dumbly.
He growls at your muted answer. It’s all he needs. It’s all he fucking needs and he’s happy his odd coloured eyes even manage to pick up on the gesture even in the dark. Could he have imagined it? He doesn’t know, nor does he care when your legs spread open for him like a flower once he moves your panties aside. The dewiness is cold against the crease of your thigh, but it’s barely noticeable as Oli spits down on your pulsing clit.
“Just the tip, o-okay?” you stutter.
“Mmm,” he answers. He hisses as your tight cunt swallows him, practically sucking in the head of his cock as soon as your entrance feels him. His eyes lose focus for a second and his breathing is erratic.
It’s happening.
It’s really happening.
He almost loses balance, hands settling on your bent knees so he can stabilise himself. You’ve been playing so hard to get for so long. And even you aren’t sure why.
He cups your face as he lowers his body on top of yours. His lips slot against your own as he kisses you passionately, though he breaks it soon enough.
“’m sorry.” he apologises. And you’re confused, only for a moment, before you feel his full-length plunge into your unprepped walls. Your hands fly to his back, nails digging and scratching over beautiful musculature and marking him like he’s yours “You’re fucking tight, baby.” he chuckles, kissing you again as his hips begin to gyrate.
“Oli, I said—”
“Don’t care.” he argues, already knowing what you’re about to say. “You feel too good. So tight f’me, princess. ‘n I’m making you feel good, yeah? Let me fuck you, stop thinking and take it.” he tells you, hips snapping harder to accentuate his point.
“Nngh—!” you moan, your nails still claw and mark at his back. He chuckles, darkly, as you draw blood. He doesn’t care, not in the least. He hadn’t expected you to be like this, but he can’t say he isn’t enjoying it. He kisses your neck as his thrusts get deeper and harsher. You feel his lips curve as you clench around him tighter.
He’s found your spot.
That perfect spot deep inside of your perfect cunt.
Your tight walls that now he’s certain were made for him to fuck. He pulls out, and it’s so brief. But the way you’re whimpering tells him how much of a good girl you are. You’re trained without even needing to cum. You’ve never been fucked so good.
After all of the sex you had with your ex, you didn’t know missionary could feel like this.
Doggy was always your favourite because it was the only time you could really feel anything with him. But this… you can feel him in your fucking throat. Your mind is blank as he pounds into you again and again at an unrelenting pace.
“Who’s making you feel good?” he mumbles into your ear. You feel close to passing out when he nibbles on your earlobe right after. Your cunt clenches and he laughs because he swears if you do that again you might actually break his cock. “Who’s fucking you so good, hm? Tell me who’s making your pretty pussy purr.”
“Y-You!” you gasp. “Oli, please! Please don’t stop.” you wail.
You can’t even feel embarrassed at the thought of anyone hearing you. Not when he’s dangling your first penetrative orgasm right in front of your face like a donkey with a hanging carrot. You mumble his name like it’s a prayer as he batters into your g-spot as if it were his soul reason for living.
“Waited too fuckin’ long for this,” he admits, the scruff of his facial hair scratches your skin as he gives you a filthy, sordid tongue kiss whilst continuing to assault the button deep within that will lead to your eventual ruin. And it’s close. It’s so fucking close and the two of you can feel it. “First time you’ve been fucked properly. That pathetic ex of yours—”
“D-Don’t,” you warn him, having no desire talking about your potential stalker when you’re so close to reaching your peak.
He grabs your face and squeezes until your lips pucker for him. Your eyes widen as he stares into them. You will listen to what he has to say, he’s making damn sure of it.
“Had a perfect pussy right in his face ‘n he didn’t know what to do with her.” he smirks. “No wonder you didn’t want him anymore.”
“Oli,” you sob. “Oli, please.”
“But I can make you cum.” he tells you. He frees your face and holds his hands under the bends of your knees. You feel every breath in your lungs escape as he folds you in half. He can’t help but laugh, not quite at your expense but it feels like that regardless. Only because he’s shocked. He can’t believe such a simple change could have you cumming so quickly for him. “Good girl, that’s it, baby.” he praises you.
“Haah, hah, aaaah! O-Oli! Mmmpf—!” you gasp, creaming around him pathetically as he drills his length in and out of you.
“I’ll make you cum t-that hard. Every fucking time, princess.” he stutters as he nears his own end. He isn’t sure, but he’s almost certain he sees your eyes cross as you cum for him. God you’re such a slut. He can’t believe you’ve been acting so coy and hard to get for so long. You’ll be addicted, now. You won’t be able to get enough now that you’ve experienced what a good fuck can really do for you. “Fuck. Fuuuuu-ck…” he finishes, still thrusting into you.
The warmth you feel coat your insides has your self esteem at an all time high. And you hate how much of a simple-minded girl you really are. As if guys won’t cum in anything they stick their dicks in if given the chance. And, still, you feel so special that Oliver Aiku chose you to be his own personal cum dump for the night.
His sweet words and ability to make you unravel make you feel more meaningful to him than you really are. He kisses you repeatedly before collapsing by your side. His seed dribbles out of your spent cunt and, now, you feel disgusting. But it doesn’t take long for him to catch his breath and move to spoon you again. He puts his softening length back inside, intent on keeping you plugged up with the goal of falling asleep like this.
“T-Thank you… Oli…” you whisper.
He doesn’t speak.
But a sweet kiss on your shoulder is all you needed from him.
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“Oliver.” you whisper.
He grunts in response, and that’s all. You consider saying his name again. You consider saying it a little louder this time so he’ll hear you. But instead, you drop it. If anything, it’s probably a blessing. You raise your head a little to check where all of your belongings are. If he’s so out of it that he can’t even respond to his name, you should take the chance to sneak out before anyone can tease you about your antics.
You’re expecting an earful from Lacey. She’ll want to talk about every sordid detail. And, truthfully, you’d rather die. You’re embarrassed. You’re ashamed of yourself for even having sex on your mind when you’re dealing with a stalker.
The thought of the other guys seeing you is filling you with embarrassment, too. You know already without even seeing them that everyone knows what you did. You were so loud, both of you were. And in the moment, you didn’t care. Oliver didn’t either, but he’ll wake up not caring too.
Guys that hadn’t heard you fucking will have definitely been told by now. You’ll be greeted by smirks and torment on your way out of the frat. You should have known this would end up happening. It’s been obvious how much Oliver wanted this for a long time, and you held off, but last night you were weak.
So weak, and now you want to runaway from the scene of the crime.
You’re taken aback as you try and get out of bed but you’re pulled straight back into Oliver’s arms.
“Where’d you think you’re going?” he asks.
Fuck.
As if he couldn’t get any sexier, of course his morning voice is hot. It’s coarse and rugged and you instinctively melt back into his arms. You’ll tell him. You will tell him that you’re leaving. Right after you grind on him a little bit.
Just a little bit.
“I h-have to go,” you lie. “I’ve got things to do, Oli.”
“Mmm, don’t care. Got morning wood, feel it?” he asks. His arm snakes around your body and his palm flattens against your stomach so that your ass is pressed against his erection once again. “Can’t go ‘til you do something about it.”
“Oli I, aah, fu—! N-Not fair…” you mewl as his fingers dip into your panties and his fingers begin to play with your silky clit.
“Suck me off.” he commands, his touches on your clit become lighter and lighter until he stops completely. “I’ll finger you ‘til you’re droolin’ if you suck this cock f’me, princess.” he stuffs his wet fingers into your mouth so you can taste yourself. It catches you off guard, and you sputter around them. But as he continues to finger fuck your face, you begin to mewl around his thick digits. “Good girl, just suck my cock like that.”
He reaches behind his head and throws a pillow to the ground for you. He lifts you so you’re facing him, and can’t quite believe how seamlessly he manages to carry and move you exactly where he wants.
And then you remember, he’s experienced.
He sits on the edge of the bed whilst your legs are wrapped around his waist as you make out. He bites your lip and encourages you to drop to the ground. You nod, reluctantly, worried that you won’t be able to give the performance he’s hoping for.
But regardless, he watches as you move the pillow across the floor and between his feet so you can kneel on it.
You whimper a little as your legs widen as you kneel, feeling last nights ejaculate slowly drip out of you and onto his fresh, pristine pillow. He doesn’t care, though. His dick is soaked from your cunt and his pre. And it’s all you can think about as he lightly slaps it against your nose and lips.
Your jaw loosens and your mouth is a perfect ‘O’ shape for him to slot into. His fingers lace through your hair as he slowly lowers you onto his cock. You hadn’t noticed in the dark, but he’s uncircumcised. You’ve never seen a dick like his before.
Your hand wraps around his length as you take him into your mouth, but you soon pull away again. You can’t believe how much easier it is to work someone with foreskin.
He smirks, seeing the thoughts go through your head. He’s so sensitive and receptive and you’re clueless. He’s practically putty in your hands and yet you think he’s the one in control. You’re so cute and naïve.
He loves girls like you.
“Suck it, princess.” he commands. “S’not a toy, y’know. Suck my dick clean.”
You clear your throat before sinking down onto his length once again, finding a steady rhythm to suck and lick and take him down your throat. He’s average length, but he’s girthy. It’s hard to take, honestly. Compared to your pencil-dicked ex, your eyes are watering and you’re doing anything and everything not to choke or gag.
He sees it, too, he’s got a perfect view as he tugs at your hair to make sure you’re keeping eye contact with him as you suck him dry.
“That’s a good slut,” he smirks through a heavy breath. “Take this dick, jus’ like that…” he continues.
Your thighs squeeze together as he degrades you. You don’t like it, you don’t like that you’ve become a slut after being his princess. But at the same time, you love it. You want to hear it again. So you take him deeper. And deeper.
“Such a dumb girl letting that loser ex of yours stick his dick in you.” he says, licking his lips as he pushes your head lightly. His chest rises and falls rapidly as the pressure of his hand intensifies until your nose brushes against brunette curls, and then squishes against his pubis. “And now he’s stalking you… what do you think he’d do if he knew you were sucking this cock?” he asks, his voice breathy and desperate as his hips start to buck.
You try to pull away, but the barely trying effort of his hand keeping you in place is somehow stronger. He coos as you stutter, struggling to breathe through the desperation.
“Breathe through your nose, stupid.” he tells you. “Good cock makes pretty girls like you real dumb.” he smiles.
He yanks at your hair until you’re fully removed from his cock. Pre and dribble pools from your mouth as you gasp desperately. You want to be mad at him, you want to tell him not to speak to you like that.
But you can’t.
Not when his lips are on yours and you feel yourself getting off from the idea of him tasting himself on your tongue. You’re breathless and out of words when he breaks it momentarily, and the sound of tacky masturbation is like a tidal wave in your ears.
“My pretty little slut, aren’t you?” he asks, kissing you again before you can answer. You can’t answer when your head is so empty. Is that really what you are? It doesn’t matter, you suppose. He’s already decided for you. “God, don’t you have any self-respect? Don’t you think you deserve better than being a stupid slut for me?”
His face contorts as he jerks himself harder and faster. You’re too busy thinking about his question to notice, though. You suck his tip into your mouth before he forces you away. His intimidating glare telling you that he’s looking for an answer this time.
“M-Maybe…” you pout, eyes wet and wide as you wonder aloud. Do you deserve better? Isn’t this all your good for? He’ll keep you safe, at least. He seems to like you more than any other girl on campus. He’s the best fuck you’ve ever had and you’re way more into him than you’d ever let on.
And just the as word leaves your lips, he’s moaning boisterously. Your face painted in white, pearly cum. A showing of just how much worth you have in his eyes. It feels almost endless as he gives you a full facial, hissing as it drips from your eyelash and into your eye.
He scrapes some of it from your face and force feeds it into your mouth.
You’re disgusting, too, because you suck without question.
“Fuck, you’re nasty.” he laughs. He lifts you up from the ground and tosses you onto the bed with little care. You almost want to cry from the stinging sensation you feel in your eye. You should have left when you had the chance. Instead you’re starting off the morning and Oliver Aiku’s cum rag. You don’t feel much better when he throws your shorts at you. “Clean yourself up.”
You try your best, focusing the material around your eye area as you try to do some sort of damage control. You see him tuck his dick into his sweats with your unaffected eye, and he swaggers towards the bedroom door.
“Where are you going?” you ask.
“I’ll get you a towel, wait here.” he tells you.
He hastens down the stairs and walks into the kitchen. The frat is bare, he suspects most of the guys must still be in bed. Though as soon as he rounds the corner, he notices Eita sitting at the kitchen table. They share a knowing smirk, silently celebrating the fact that Oliver finally got what he wanted out of you.
Oliver pours himself a bowl of cereal, leaning against the counter as he crunches it between his teeth. Eita looks up from his phone after a few moments of silence and finally speaks.
“Did you fuck her, then? Or—”
“Fucked her stupid. ‘n she sucked me off this morning.” he smirks, slurping the milk on his spoon as he thinks about your pretty face covered in his seed. “All thanks to you, my friend.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eita laughs, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear and igniting it with a lighter from his pocket.
“No no, really, thank you.” he laughs, “I got to be her knight in shining armour when you called her last night. She was so easy to fuck after that.” he grins, holding a fist out for him to bump. Eita chuckles, trading which hand holds his cigarette before returning the gesture.
“You’re such a sick fuck.” Eita laughs, scrolling through his phone. “Look,” he shows his screen to Oliver. He can only laugh when he sees yet another article about the psycho serial killer that has made your anxiety worse than it already would be with a stalker on the loose.
“I’m not the one killing girls, am I?” Oliver comments, “Just scaring one girl with some heavy breathing.” he shrugs.
Even he isn’t twisted enough to think whoever this local serial killer is isn’t completely fucked up. But he can’t deny that it started happening at the perfect time. After he set his plan in motion to be your stalker. After he planted a seed in your mind that he’d always be there for you if you needed him. He’d always protect you no matter what happened, and he wasn’t about to let this stalker get to you.
You fell for it. Hook, line and sinker. You’re even starting to suspect your stupid limp dick ex because he told you to suspect him. Oliver Aiku, the guy who’s always around when you need him most. The guy who’s always just a phone call or text message away. The guy who’s always offered to be by your side and jump in harms way to protect you.
Oliver wasn’t even on your radar.
Perfect Oliver.
Sweet Oliver.
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© 2024 rinhaler
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1K notes · View notes
kpop---scenarios · 4 months
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Monster
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Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader x Lee Felix
Genre: Mafia, Arranged Marriage
Warning: None right now
Word Count: 3.4k
“Babe?” You call out, closing the front door of your apartment behind you. You set your bag down on the table in the front hall, slip off your shoes before making your way further inside. Heading into the kitchen, the lights are dim, your boyfriend's uniform is laid out on the table, ready for him to put on in the morning for the 24 hour shift he was going to be working. You wander into the living room, seeing Seo Joon sitting on the couch with his head laid back, softly snoring as the show he was watching continues. Gently, you push his shoulder to wake him up, grabbing his hand to drag him to your shared bedroom so you could both pass out. It was a long day and you were exhausted.
“How was your day?” Seojoon asks you, his eyes barely open as he slips off his shirt and then his pants, crawling into bed with just his boxers on.
“It was fine.” You mutter. “Pretty uneventful.”
“Sounds about right.” He says, letting out a big yawn. You crawled into bed beside him, scooching closer to him. You lean in to kiss him, his eyes shooting open. He turns his head slightly, so you catch his cheek instead of his lips. You're a little taken aback as you look at him, feeling hurt, which was a feeling you'd come accustomed to over time. You really weren't sure why you'd continued to let it bother you.
“I've got a big day tomorrow, I need to sleep.” He tells you, rolling over to face away from you.
“Yeah okay.” You huff. “My dad called earlier, I need to go see him tomorrow.” You say, rolling over too, your back facing his.
“I don't know why you're telling me, I'll be busy working. Again.” He sighs. You don't respond. You honestly don't know how to respond.
Your relationship with Seojoon wasn't always like this. At the beginning of the two of you dating he was very sweet to you, he would hold you, take you on dates, kiss you and actually be affectionate. Since he became a paramedic a year into your relationship, things have been different. He's been distant, cold and just not the man you fell in love with. You'd tried to talk to him about it - one too many times but he always said he was fine. You knew you weren't going to get anything out of him so you stopped trying. Sex was never a thing with the two of you, he told you from day one that he was saving himself for marriage, but that didn't stop the two of you from doing other things here and there, never consistently.
But now, it's been a year since any of that has happened, the longest it has ever been for you. The last time you rubbed your pussy on his clothed cock, you both came but the look he gave you made you feel like the most disgusting person, he looked at you with disgust. He made you feel insecure, but secure, and most of the time you felt safe with him. You also hoped that one day the man you fell for would return to you but for right now you were just taking it day by day.
**
The next morning, you're awake and dressed, ready to go to your father's house. Seojoon's side of the bed was cold, he had already been gone for hours.
On your way to your fathers house, you think about the talk you'd been hearing from various sources. Every person had been talking about these rumors that were floating around, things that were happening underground but you hadn't had a chance to speak directly to your father to see if there was any truth to any of it. He was the one you could go to about the things you'd hear and he would always tell you whether or not there was any sort of truth to any of it.
Your father was a very wealthy and a very feared man. A man that Seojoon did not know, and one you weren't sure if he would ever know. He was a man who took what he wanted, hurt whoever got in his way and made deals with a lot of people who others would consider to be the devil. You were the daughter of the second largest mafia organization in the country.
It was a life you had always known. Seojoon has never pressed the issue of meeting your father and you didn't know if you appreciated that fact, or sort of resented him for it. You also didn't think that confessing the fact that your father was participating in drug distribution, prostitution and all other illegal activities would do well to your relationship but part of you also wanted Seojoon to know where you came from. However, if you could trust him with that information, well that was a whole other story.
Late at night, when Seojoon was snoring beside you and you couldn't sleep, you thought about the things he didn't know or didn't want to know about, despite having been together for 3 years. He'd never asked you about your family, your childhood. The only information he ever got was things that you volunteered to tell him. Those thoughts would always leave you feeling confused about him, and whether or not he was truly in this relationship with you.
Your car comes to a stop in front of your fathers large house, two men in all black stand outside the front door, their fingers interlaced in front of them, not a smile on either of their faces.
“Wonho. Shownu.” You smile at both, they each give you a nod before opening the front door for you. You walk in, the familiar scent brings you back to your childhood, growing up in this house. The walls down the long hall are covered with pictures of family, friends and others your father has done business with. You make your way down the long hallway, listening to the buzzing chatter of the men roaming the house. It was always like this, as long as you could remember there were always so many people inside the house at all hours of the day and night. You've seen many things growing up here, men loading weapons in the living room, getting bullets pulled out of them on the kitchen counter. Going into the basement for a popsicle and seeing someone who ratted hung up with chains being tortured. It really didn't take you long to become accustomed to what was going on inside this house.
“Dad?” You call out, standing in front of the living room, but also near the kitchen and his office. It was always one of those three rooms you could find him in.
“In my office with Mia.” He yells back.
You figured. Mia was your half sister, his daughter but with the woman he married before he was with your mother. She was a few years older than you and the two of you never truly saw eye to eye. You felt like she hated you, and though she has never confirmed or denied, you maintained that thought.
“I've been hearing a lot of shit dad.” You say, walking into his office. Mia sits in front of your dad, who sits behind his desk. “You're marrying one of us off?” You say.
Mia looks back at you with wide eyes. “Is that what you wanted me to come today for? To tell me you've arranged a marriage for me? Because if that's true, it's not fucking happ…” She yells before being cut off by your father.
“No.” He says. “Well, not quite.” He continues. “Mr. Lee and I have been discussing joining our organizations. I've been wanting to get into trafficking and more in depth organized crime for a while, and he's been wanting to step foot into drug distribution.” He says. “You two know as well as anyone the best way to combine is through marriage.”
“I'm in a relationship though. A good.. well, a relationship.” You blurt out. Your father did not know about Seo Joon. Or so you thought.
“Yeah I know, with the nurse, or whatever. We're going to have to have a chat about him.” He says, pointing at you.
“He's a paramedic, dad.” You correct him. Your father just stares at you before turning to your sister.
“Mia, I mainly mean you. Mr. Lee has two sons. Lee Felix, and Bang Chan, as you know Mr. Lee took Chan into custody after Mr. Lee's best friend, Chan's father passed away. I don't give a fuck which one you choose, but you need to choose one. We’re having a party if you will, tomorrow. You'll meet them then. I expect you to wow them.” He explains. You take a deep breath, so fucking relieved its not you, but slightly stressed that your father knew about Seo Joon. You shouldn't have been surprised. You should have known your father finds out everything.
‘So I don't have to be there, right?” You ask, smugly smirking at the back of Mia's head.
“You are expected to be there, Y/N.” He says. Your smirk fades quickly. “Understood?” He asks.
You nod your head. “Yes sir.”
“What if I don't want to?” Mia asks, crossing her arms.
“This isn't up for fucking debate, Mia. Either you do it or I'll kick you out and cut you off.” Your father threatens.
The room is quiet.
Mia shuffles in her seat, uncomfortably as the awkward silence continues.
“Do I make myself clear?” He asks.
“Crystal.” She says, abruptly getting out of her chair and storming out of the room.
���Well I'm gonna head out.” You say, clearing your throat before turning towards the door.
“Y/N.” Your dad begins. “That boy. The one you're dating. It would be in your best interest to break things off with him.” He finishes, looking down at a stack of paper.
“We've been together for a while. We live together. I'm not going to just leave him. I know you haven't met him yet but..” you continue on.
“I don't want to meet him. I'm telling you now to end things. That's all. I've got work to do, I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be late.” He says, cutting you off. Typical of your father. You wished one of them had wanted to meet the other one.
You left your fathers house annoyed. Not really wanting to go to the party tomorrow but also at how your father acted. How could he tell you to break up with Seojoon without even having met the guy. As you drive off the property, you call your boyfriend just to check in and see how his day is going.
“What?” He snaps, answering the phone.
“Woah, sorry. Was just calling to check in.” You mumble.
“Well I'm busy, sorry.” He sighs. “How was your dad's?” He asks. You perk up a little at his question.
“It was fine. He wanted to let me know about a party he's throwing tomorrow evening.” You say. “I don't suppose you'd be feeling up to accompanying me?” You ask.
“I have to work, YN. I picked up an extra 12 hour shift after this one so no, I can't come with you to your fancy party. Some of us have to work for a living.” He snaps.
You're quiet.
So is he. For a second.
“I gotta go. Bye.” He says, hanging up the phone. You really fucking wondered why you were even in this clearly one sided relationship.
That night you ate dinner alone, crawled into bed alone, and woke up the next morning alone. You checked your phone and you didn't even have so much as a “Hi” text from your boyfriend. You felt done. You didn't want to try anymore, you didn't want to care anymore. It was exhausting to be in a one sided relationship with him. You were done being the one to call or to text. You were done being the one to start conversations or be affectionate. Whether or not he noticed would be the sign that you needed on if you were going to continue things with him.
Later that afternoon you got ready for the party. You hadn't heard anything from Seo Joon and you weren't going to be the one who messages him first. If he wanted to talk to you then he would reach out to you. Arriving at your father's house, the front door is wide open, you can hear the music from outside, as well as a ton of people waiting to get in. Shownu and Wonho were standing in front of the door, checking the lists to make sure only the ones your father wanted got into the house. There were too many groups who either wanted to ambush your father or get into business with him and he didn't want to deal with it tonight.
“Excuse me.” You say. “Pardon me.” You say, moving through the crowd of people towards the front door.
“You look good.” Wonho smiles, winking at you before moving sideways to let you in.
“So do you.” You smile, moving past him inside. It was your typical type of party. Food, a lot of drinks and a lot of serious conversations and deal makings. You quickly grab a drink, chugging it back before grabbing another one and one more just in case. You looked around for your father to say hi, but instead your attention was caught by an extremely handsome man trying to talk to your sister. You sat on the couch behind them, listening to him try to say anything at all to Mia.
“Hey there.” He says, going to tap her on the shoulder.
Mia doesn't even give the poor man any acknowledgement. You take another sip of your drink, smiling as you watch him awkwardly stand there, trying to figure out something else to say.
“Hi.. uh, are you Mia?” He asks. She turns to look at him, scoffing before turning back to those she was talking with. You can't help but laugh, a little too loudly. He turns to look at you as you cover your mouth, trying to hide your giggles.
“What?” He asks.
“I.. nothing.” You smile. “Good luck with her.”
“Believe me.” He sighs, sitting next to you. “I don't want to be talking to her, but my father is making me.”
“You're one of the two who is supposed to get married, aren't you?” You ask.
“How do you know that?” He asks.
“L/N Y/N.” You smile.
“Ahh, the sister to.. that one.” He laughs. “Bang Chan, but you can call me Chan.” He smiles. Before you can answer, a second, overly attractive man stands beside Mia, smiling. He tries to talk to her, but she gives him the exact same treatment as she gave Chan.
“Bro. Don't even bother.” Chan sighs, pulling him to the couch. “YN, this is Felix, Felix, Y/N.”
“Hi.” You smile.
“Mia's sister.” Felix smiles.
“The one and only.” You laugh, finishing your drink. “You're better off not to even try with her, she doesn't want to get married.” You say.
“You say that as if we actually have a choice.” Felix laughs.
“Well, I mean.. it sucks to suck.” You grin.
“You do know that whoever she doesn't pick, is marrying you, right?” Chan says.
You choke. You don't know what you choked on, but it was something. “I.. what? No, that's not a thing that's happening.” You laugh. Your dad would have told you, right? “Besides, I'm in a relationship.” You say.
“Ah, yeah, the cop.” Chan says, rolling his eyes.
“He's a paramedic.” You respond, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh right.” He snickers. “The paramedic.” He says, looking at Felix, who gives him a knowing look.
The rest of the evening you spent with both those men. The conversation flowed so easily, nothing was forced, you never ran out of things to talk about with them. It was honestly refreshing. The fact that they asked you questions about yourself, things that Seojoon hadn't even asked you, and he was supposed to be your boyfriend. At the end of the night you said your goodbyes to them, and you didn't want to. You wanted to continue being with them, there was just something about them that made you feel safe and secure being around them. That night when you got home, your apartment was empty. You walked in, got yourself ready for bed, checked your phone and there were no messages from Seo Joon. At this point, you were tired of him not even trying with you. You didn't care anymore. But you did care about what Chan had said earlier. you couldn't get it out of your head. You laid down, your mind replaying what Chan had said about Seo Joon, over and over.
“Ah, yeah, the cop.”
He wasn't a cop. Those are two very different professions, you can't just mistake a paramedic with a cop. You closed your eyes, and it takes you back to a moment where you had overheard a conversation that made you question, Seo Joon. Honestly at the time you had thought he was cheating on you, but now you weren't sure if it was cheating or maybe he really is a cop?
You were laying in bed, alone, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Seojoon had been in bed with you but you assumed he thought you were sleeping when you heard him on the phone.
“Hey..” he sighs. “Yeah no, I know. No No, I don't think she suspects anything.” He chuckles. You can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen. “Look, I'm trying my best here with her. This shit isn't easy.” He snaps. “I'll try that. Yep, I'll keep you updated. Bye.” He begins walking towards the bedroom, you lay back down, closing your eyes, snoring softly. You can feel the bed dip slightly beside you. He scrolled through his phone for a few minutes before he plugged it in and went to bed. You barely slept that night, wondering if he was cheating and who he was cheating with.
You close your eyes, wanting to stop reliving memories that hurt you. It wasn't beneficial for anyone. You tried to sleep again, until your phone pinged. You had hoped the message was from Seojoon.
It wasn't.
[From: +82-463-3629] Hey, Y/N. It's Chan.
[From: +82-394-1293] And Felix. It was good talking to you today.
[From: +82-463-3629] It was. We wanted to know if you wanted to hangout tomorrow night?’
[From: +82-394-1293] Unless you and your ‘paramedic’ boyfriend have plans?
You chuckle at the conversation already.
[To: +82-463-3629,+82-394-1293] No plans. What did you guys have in mind?
The next night, even though you knew better, you put on your little black dress that hugs your curves, your favorite shoes and got yourself out the door, without a word from your boyfriend, if you could even call him that anymore. You wanted to forget about him tonight. You walk outside your apartment, looking around, you hear a car honk at you. You turn to look, seeing Felix smiling as he holds open the passenger door for you.
“You look beautiful.” Felix says, helping you into the car before closing the door.
“He's not lying.” Chan smiles.
“Thank you guys.” You laugh. “Where are we going?” You ask.
“Some of the men in our group own a club. We were thinking of drinks and maybe some dancing.” Chan smiles. You buckle your seat belt happily.
“Sounds great to me.”
The three of you sit at a table, drinks scattered all around. You're all drunk, laughing, having a great time until you turn your head towards the bar, and you see Seojoon standing there with a woman. Your smile drops, you look away, Chan and Felix notice immediately.
“What?” They both ask. Felix stretches a little, looking at the bar. He spots Seojoon immediately, and understands.
“That's him right?” Felix asks. “Your boyfriend?”
“How did you know that's him?” You ask.
“Believe me, I know a lot of things.” Felix says. You turn around to look at him, just in time to see his arm snake around the waist of a woman you recognized.
Chaeyoung. She was Seojoon's partner at work. Why were they dressed up and at the bar? Why didn't he tell you? Why wasn't he at work? What the fuck was happening?
“You okay?” Chan asks.
“I'm fine.” You smile. “That's his work partner. It's fine. Everything is fine.” You mutter.
Everything was not fine.
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katsumiiii · 1 year
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hobie brown x gn! reader
omg was at work and had a hugeeee hobie moment!!
hobie being a nuisance and popping up at your job. let’s say you work at a local pub right around the corner from his apartment complex, be sure to be on the look out for rabid hobies because he will come and beg for your attention.
he always thinks you look so cute in your uniform, a simple black tee and some tight jeans, you never really see the appeal but his gaze lingers appreciatively at the curve of your ass and the plush of your hips.
your coworkers think it’s so cute whenever he pops in, doing everything in his power to gain your attention for more than 30 seconds at a time, whether that be sending you a coy smirk, or looping his fingers between your belt buckles and pulling you in. his goal is always the same, wanting desperately to see that flustered look on your face, and he will get it, no matter the cost.
today the bar had been particularly empty. only a few customers toggled in and out, and they all had simple requests, a glass of beer and the check. the day went on without a hitch, night soon seeped in and you were starting to close down, checking out the last six individuals which sat at the bar.
“surprised hobie didn’t pop in today.” your coworker teased, brushing the side of your shoulder as you wiped off the countertop below you.
“shhh, don’t say his name, you’ll summon him.” you shuttered playfully, grinning at your quip.
“funny funny, so is he sick or wh—”
“wha’s going awn? who you havin’ a chat about?” speak of the fucking devil. you slowly tilted your head towards the seat in front of you and watch as hobie leans his upper body towards your own, sniffing as he licks his bottom lip, tongue clashing with metal.
“what the fuck?” your coworker cackled, shaking their head in disbelief.
“hobie, what a surprise.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.
“well you don’t sound too chuffed to see me, love.” hobie tapped his fingernails against the freshly wiped counter, his black polish (which you painted) shinning dimly from the lights above.
“well usually you’re here earlier so I didn’t know if you were coming to bother me or not.” you set an arm beneath you and placed your head against your palm.
“bother? didn’t know that’s what it was.” he shrugged his shoulders, inching his head closer to your slouched figure.
“really? then what would you call yourself?”
“your only source of entertainment. ‘m livenin’ up the place, a bit drab in here ain’t it?” hobie turned to observe the area around him, chuckling at the lack of customers.
“well we are supposed to be closed, bee.” you muttered, turning to place your cleaning supplies into an opened cabinet on your left.
“really? wouldn’t ‘ave guessed that.” he sucked his teeth at the sight of you bent over, nodding his head in appreciation. “why don’t you put that down and come gimme a kiss, hm? been waiting on one all night.”
“yeah, you say that every time you come see me.”
“don’t make it less true.”
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tvhsleb3ww · 7 months
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BLACKOUT! - OIKAWA TOORU
summary, both you and tooru woke up in the middle of the night due to a blackout
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"GYAH!"
he squealed when he heard the sound of something falling on the floor. you clutched onto the back of his white t shirt. your heart rate increased as both of you and your husband walked further into the dark living room.
"walk faster, tooru!"
you groaned and smacked the back of his shoulder, making him grunt out an 'ow!' he pouts at you but you can't really see it due to how dark the apartment is at the moment.
"i'm trying! i can't see anything!"
he huffs out, stupid him he forgot his phone back in the bedroom. it was probably charging before this stupid black out happened. even if he did had his phone, it wouldn't be much help since the battery is dead.
a little while before...
when he moved to argentina for life, he knew he had to face a lot of things. mostly heat. though, he doesn't really mind a little bit of heat and sun exposure. he likes it, in fact. he likes how he looks hotter with tanned skin (self proclaimed).
but he didn't expect it to be this hot.
before he drifted to slumberland, his arms were wrapped around you, with your head on his chest. the proximity between you two was insane, but you both love it. he could've sworn he turned the AC on.
guess he was wrong when he woke up at exactly 3:45 AM with sweat forming on his forehead and all over his body at an insane amount. he furrows his eyebrows at the sudden heat, especially at night time. he fans himself with his white shirt that he practically wants to pry off right now.
he looks over to you to see you squirming in your sleep, changing sides every now and then. he could see that you were uncomfortable as well.
then, he figured that it was a blackout. he had that idea when he looked up to see the fan wasn't moving an inch as it should be. the AC had been turned off and the hallway lights that both of you usually leave on at night, is turned off.
he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. what a terrible time to be having a blackout.
soon, you woke up as well and sat up next to him. a yawn escapes your lips, as you bring a hand to rub your eye. he smiles at you. even in the dark, he manages to see your beautiful figure.
"morning, beautiful"
he said in a light tone, obviously teasing you. you hummed, your hair is a little messy.
"hm, why is it so hot?"
you asked and faced him. you can barely make out his face due to how dark it is. the only source of light you have is from the moonlight that shone through your balcony. though it was minimal.
"because of me possibly"
he jokes, to lighten up the mood. you rolled your eyes and smacked his bicep, making him chuckle.
"i'm being serious here, tooru"
he huffs and feigns offense.
"fine, i'm pretty sure it's a blackout. the power is out"
you hummed to his statement, fanning yourself with your hand.
"can't really sleep now with the temperature. what do we do?"
you asked to which he smirked.
"we could make out-"
"absolutely not"
you scoffed and he pouts, though it wasn't a bad idea, you don't think him bruising your lips with his own is appropriate to do in these moments.
"ugh, it's so hot. i wanna rip off my clothes right now"
"doesn't seem like a bad idea, you should try"
you don't need light to see that stupid flirty smirk and wink of his. you rolled your eyes at him.
"we're in a crisis and all you can think about is getting laid?"
he yawns as he nodded his head and leans against the bedframe.
"well, you're to blame for my thoughts"
you shook your head and before you can say anything to him, the sound of glass hitting the floor echoed throughout the apartment, making both your eyes widen.
he swears his heart rate increased and beated in an insane pace. his face starts to lose a little colour. oh god, he hates these kind of scary things.
the second that sound broke out, he clutches onto you for dear life. his arms wrapped tightly around your body as your cheeks squished against his chest.
"mmf- tooru! it's hot!"
"i can't let go! i'm scared!"
he squeaks and you huffed.
"it's probably nothing, calm down"
"oh yeah? i don't think 'nothing' can push off something until it breaks, darling"
you glared at him. seriously, it was amusing to see this buff and confident man getting all scared at what may possibly be something scary.
you were a little scared too, you weren't gonna lie.
"we should check it out"
"WHAT? are you insane!?"
you nodded to which he just whined at you. you pry off his hands off your body to get up from the bed, quickly searching for your phone.
"wait! you're not being serious, are you?"
he pouts when he sees you stood up next to the bed. you sighed when you couldn't find your phone.
"i am! i have to see what broke"
"and leave me here? alone!?"
he squeals when you scoffed at him and walk towards the door. he yelped and quickly escaped the bed to join you, his hand clutched on your arm.
"(y/n), baby, honey, as much as i love how crazy you can get and how hot you are when you do so, i don't think this is the right idea"
you huffed and grabbed his hand with your own.
"cmon, we'll go together, okay?"
"i'm too young to die! i wanna experience having kids, sending them off to college and beating that asshole ushiwaka-"
he rambles, as if he was going to die. you sighed. even at a time like this, he can be as dramatic as can be.
"it's nothing, i'm sure of that. i just need to see what broke and we'll get back in bed"
he pouts and gives up on changing your mind. as much as he wants nothing to do with this, he can't leave you alone. hell, he doesn't wanna be left alone.
which got you two in this position in the first place.
you clutched the back of his shirt, as both of you walked further into the living room.
"OW! i stepped on something sharp!"
he whined as he takes a step back to see the broken pieces. you sighed when you see the pieces of your favourite vase that your mother gifted.
"aww, i really love this one"
he hums and pats your back.
"at least we know what broke now. so, let's go back to bed, shall we?"
he says before grabbing your arm and leading you to the bedroom. before you could protest, a certain sound made you both freeze.
both of you let out a scream when something fuzzy ran through your legs. one of the screams being at the higher pitch, obviously tooru's.
"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?"
he yelped and hugged you tight.
"i don't know!"
then a small 'meow' echoed.
and right then, the hallway lights turned on and so did the fan and the AC. a small cat made it's way to your leg, purring as it rubs its head against your calf.
he blanked out as he sees you patting the cat. how did that get here?
"aw, turns out it was this guy"
"what the- how did it get here?"
he pouted when he sees you paid attention to the purring feline. he clears his throat loudly, to get your attention.
"probably went inside when i was closing the door and hid off somewhere. it's so cute though"
he scoffs.
"yeah well, i'm cuter anyways. cmon! let's get back to bed!"
he whined and tugs on your nightdress. you rolled your eyes at him before taking the cat outside.
"you owe me consoling kisses by the way for making me go through such a horrendous experience"
you snickered before pressing a soft kiss on his lips, making him smile.
"okay, you big baby"
962 notes · View notes
loveindefinitely · 7 months
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༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader
12 — IN SOME SAD WAY, I ALREADY KNOW
featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence
series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.
<- previous part | next part ->
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“A written statement from the General himself.”
You mindlessly nod, eyes unfocused and ears ringing as you sit at the conference table, Laswell at the head with the paper in hand. Her brows are furrowed, and one of her hands rests at her hip as she reads over the paper’s contents once more.
Everything feels numb. Like your entire body’s been reset, and nothing makes sense – as if your very existence has been muffled.
Price and Ghost sit at the table, too, sharing looks with each other. The Sergeants are out training rookies – and a small, minute part of you is grateful. You don’t want them to see you so…
Whatever you are. Numb, cold, unfeeling. Any adjective that fits.
“Shepherd traded her,” Price seethes, knuckles whitening on the tight grip he has around his pack of cigars. 
“But why?” Laswell asks, exasperated, pacing at the front of the conference room. The overhead beams have been left off, so the frosted window is the only source of light. It allows a soft, gentle glow from the moon to fill the room, and it helps with your racing mind.
“We need to find him,” Ghost demands, voice gruff and icy. Thinly veiled anger – you recognise the tone all too well. 
“This gives us evidence to push the search further,” Laswell cuts in, her footfalls pausing as she searches the scrawled handwriting for something. “And it opens up a new trail. Why did Graves want you? And what did Shepherd deem worthy of trading his star soldier?”
Your leg’s bouncing, the soft tap tap tap of your foot against the linoleum floor sounding more like a ticking time bomb than anything.
When you look up from the table, your eyes instantly clash with a pair of dark brown. Ghost.
He’s watching you – something hidden behind his gaze that you can’t unpack. Not now, at least, with your mind racing at a million thoughts per hour. With your body feeling as sensitive as a live wire. Every breath feels manual, a feat in and of itself.
You break your eye contact with him suddenly, weary, looking to the window instead. The moon isn’t so complicated; doesn’t hold so many layers of darkness, both in colour and soul.
There’s nothing like the feeling of moonlight against your skin, the brush of nightly breezes against your chilled skin.
“Sweetheart –” Your attention instantly goes to Price, whose hands are clasped on the table, gaze heavy where it sits on you, “Do you know anything at all that could help us. Any leads.”
You go to open your mouth, but everything feels wrong, your stomach sinking and hands trembling and vision going blurry.
Without any thought, or reason, you abruptly stand, slightly shaky on your feet. You swallow, once, a difficult movement against your barren throat. Scratchy and harsh.
“I – I’m sorry, I need a moment,” you manage to mutter out, taking a step back in a shadow of defence.
Brows furrow, a question’s asked – you don’t hear, don’t see, because all you can do is turn and bolt out of the room, shouldering the door open and heading down the hospital light-white corridor, the white burning your vision.
Your eyes sting with unshed tears, your chest heaving, the echoing sound of your boots against the floor a distant soundtrack.
“Fuck,” you mutter, palms coming up to rub harshly at your face as you slow, unsure. You just need space, a moment to yourself, a place to break apart with no one as your witness.
A slightly ajar closet to your left seems like your best bet.
Heading for it, you push in, the stale scent of cleaning products hitting your nose. It’s difficult to find any part of you that cares in the slightest.
The door closes, and you just stand, for a moment, your head resting against the wood. Every breath rattles your bones, like your core is falling apart at its seams. Another breath. Two more.
Except it’s getting harder, with every breath, to fill your lungs. They come out harried, shallow and not unlike slices of a knife against your windpipe. They tear from your mouth like coughs.
Your back hits the wall, and you slide down, until you’re sat on the floor, head sat between your bent knees as the first tears finally fall down your cheeks. Hiccups leave your chapped lips, and you squeeze your eyes shut as your shoulders shake.
You haven’t allowed yourself to break down like this in... Gods, you can’t even remember. All you know is that it hurts, at your very core, but it’s also kind of freeing.
It’s as if your world is closing in around you; your breaths doing nothing to quell that intense sense of suffocation, cruel in the grasp your fear has around your throat. Nothing makes sense – everything hurts, your tears leave lines of heat down your cheeks –
The door creaks open.
Heart stuttering in your chest, you look up from your balled up frame with blurry vision, to see who your intruder is. Did Gaz or Soap leave the rookies early? Did Price or Laswell get worried and come check on you?
“Sweetheart.”
The tall, threatening frame of the man fills out the small crack of the door in a way that has your breath catching for a whole other reason.
“Ghost?” You find yourself asking, your voice threatening a whine with the state you’re in. 
He steps in, the scent of blood and some cologne filling the space as he does. You wipe at your bloodshot eyes, curling in closer.
“If you want to kill me, this is probably your best bet,” you bite, posturing, an attempt of goading so your image isn’t completely ruined. The idea isn’t completely unfound, either – he very well could pull out his gun and shoot you clean through the head.
He shakes his head, closing the door – allowing pitch black to envelop you both.
“You’re too cheeky for your own good,” he mutters, and despite all of your notions of the man, he slides into a sitting position next to you.
If you could stabilise your breaths, you would, if for no other fact than your own embarrassment. Your body still trembles, and small hiccups still leave your lips with every shaky breath.
His presence is warm against yours, and when he moves, the fabric of his uniform brushes against your own.
“Why are you here?” You find yourself asking, a whisper under your breath. Just loud enough for him to hear, for him to hear the fragile undertone. The risk you’re taking, sitting beside him in this state. 
He looses a breath – easy, soft. Unlike everything you know about the hulking man. “I understand.”
You can’t help the uneasy chuckle that leaves your lips. “You understand? Mister been-conspiring-against-me-since-day-one?”
“I understand what it’s like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders, with no one you trust there to hold you, too.”
You look to him, but in the darkness, it’s more of an instinctual act than anything. 
“Didn’t realise you were a poet, Lieutenant,” you chide, voice breaking slightly around the syllables. He doesn’t comment; a small mercy.
He shrugs, brushing against you as he does. “Not a poet. Just a soldier.”
“And an asshole,” you hum, and you can’t help the breathless laugh that escapes you when he elbows you in the dip of your waist. You elbow him back, unthinkingly, freely.
Silence fills in the gaps, except for the background noise of your shaky, tight breathing, and the bounce of your knees.
That is, until the man beside you breaks it.
“I asked my dog what two minus two is,” Ghost says, easily. You loosen your posture, just slightly, brows furrowed when you turn your head towards him once more.
“What are you on about?” You ask, incredulous. He shrugs. Nods.
“I asked my dog what two minus two is,” he continues, despite the confusion that is surely emanating off of you. “She said nothing.”
You let out a shocked, lost bark of a laugh at that, turning your body around so you’re facing him in the enclosed space. “Was that a dad joke?”
“I found out why my dog’s such a bad dancer,” Ghost starts once more, continuing despite your elongated groan. Seems to relish in your dismay.
“And why’s that?” You entertain him, despite the anxiety in your gut, the words left unsaid burning your tongue.
“She’s got two left feet.”
You heave a sigh, shaking your head – but the corners of your lips pull into a cheesy grin, and your breaths are lighter. Easier, natural, less harsh against your dry throat. “Do you even have a dog?” You ask.
“Her name’s Riley. She’s my family,” he says, earnestly, and your heart shatters just a bit more.
“What breed is she?”
“German Shepherd. Used to work in the military, till a mission gone wrong left her too scared to work in the field. Saved ‘er from the pound.”
How can this man be the same one who threatened your life? Who – who had made it very clear how little he trusted you, and was generally such a jerk? A complete asshole, of whom you had no qualms hating?
“She’d like you,” he adds, and you blink, “Always did like girls more than guys. Strong ones, at that.”
“You think I’m strong?”
You can tell he rolls his eyes, even without being able to see it. “I’ll bring ‘er in, when this is all said and done.”
“When this is all said and done, we’ll probably never see each other again. Small mercies, hey?” Your tone takes on a joking lilt.
He doesn’t laugh.
And it hits you, then. How fragile this very situation is. How unimportant, in the real scheme of things, your relationship with the 141 is. When Graves and Shepherd have been dealt with, where do you fit in? What purpose will you have?
You don’t, can’t, truly fit in with them. They’re already so interconnected, memories spent together that you’ll never understand, connections you have no place in joining.
Oh, what a stab in the gut that is.
“I can get Johnny or Kyle if you want,” Ghost offers, but you find yourself answering just this side of too soon.
“No.”
You realise, as you sit here beside him, that he is all you need. Soap and Gaz would’ve tried to ramble or make a move on you, Price would’ve tried to embrace you. Ghost just sits, and waits, his presence speaking a thousand words. He’s your anchor, right now.
“What does a bee use to brush its hair?” Ghost breaks the quiet, once more, his words steady and grating with the low timbre of his voice.
You exhale, but go along with it anyways. “I haven’t a clue.”
“A honeycomb.”
You scoff, but the smile on your face doesn’t waver – your cheeks hurting from the way it tugs on the muscles of your tired face. “That was awful, Lt.”
“Johnny laughed at that one,” he replies, head tilted to rest his skull against the wall. His arms rest on the bends of his knees.
“That’s cause he feels bad for you,” you hum, satisfaction weighing on your words.
Ghost elbows you once more, a bit too hard, but you find the movement grounding more than harmful. Like a way for your body to come back to itself, and register the world around you. No need for self-destruction or derealisation.
“They really like you, y’know,” he murmurs, and your breath pauses in your chest. “The Sergeants. Won’t shut up about you when you’re gone.”
“Well, if you’re gonna hate me, some support is nice,” you retort, and he huffs a low breath. Pauses, like he’s thinking something over. Weighing the risk and reward of his next statement.
“I don’t,” he rolls his tongue in his mouth, “I don’t hate you.”
“You’ve had me fooled,” you retort, the cool wall against your cheek a steady reminder of the world. “The whole threatening to kill me thing, and all.”
“If it means protecting Johnny, Kyle – even Price, I’d do it. Still will,” he says, the last statement bordering on a warning. “If you’ve somehow fooled us all, then I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger.”
You swallow. Scratch at the skin of your wrist.
“I just need to figure this shit out,” you admit, looking to the roof for answers. “Once Shadow Company’s been taken down, and Shepherd’s dealt with, everything can go back to normal. This’ll just be a blip in time.”
“The Sergeants aren’t going to let you go,” Ghost warns, an edge to his words. “What are you gonna do, anyways? Live in the countryside?”
“I don’t know,” you confess, picking at your fingernails. “I’ll figure it out when it comes to it. We’ve got bigger things on our plate.”
With his shoulder pressed against your own, you let your body relax, your breaths finally even. No tears on the verge of falling down your cheeks – and no fear lacing your veins with a thick coat of adrenaline.
However, that short-lived relief is quickly replaced with the all too familiar crash.
Your head pounds, and your limbs suddenly feel heavy. Your eyelids threaten to close, even though you don’t feel the need to sleep.
“Tired?” Ghost asks, low and soft, careful not to startle you. So at odds with the idea you had of him.
Without meaning to, you lean further against him, using his frame to hold your own up. He doesn’t comment on it. “I’m – just need a minute,” you murmur.
His hand moves to rest at the side of your head, pulling you in so your temple rests against his shoulder. It’s warm, comforting – a parallel to the man of which you thought you hated.
Rest comes easy, at the side of one of the men who wants to kill you.
*
When you come to, it’s with the feeling of fingers brushing through your hair, and the scent of cajun.
The gentle mid-morning light filters into the room, casting light through your closed eyes, the faraway sound of bullets being fired an odd comfort. Soft sizzling, too, can be heard, as well as the chopping of a knife against a board.
“That smells bloody divine, Si,” a familiar, Scottish voice calls, quietened by what you can only suspect is due to your ‘sleeping’. “Ya’d be a bonnie housewife.”
“Watch it, Johnny,” Ghost replies, stern, even with the undercurrent of humour in his voice. 
The fingers in your hair continue to card through your strands, pausing to massage at your scalp every now and then. The movements have you melting further into Soap’s lap.
“Ken the other two are goin’ at it?” Johnny chides, and even without vision, you can see the goading smile on his face.
“I ken you should shut your face,” Ghost retorts, the sound of chopping finally coming to a pause. “And, no, you’re a bloody idiot.”
“Rude.”
Fluttering your eyes open, you let out a small huff of air, stretching your tense muscles. They feel sore with lethargy, and stiff from the position you fell asleep in.
“Mornin’, Sweetheart,” Johnny smirks, looking down at where your head sits in his lap.
When you look towards the kitchen, it's to find Ghost, flipper in hand as he stands by the stove, a glass bowl filled with salad to his side. One thing in particular has you looking twice.
“A bit promiscuous, don't you think, Lieutenant?”
Ghost's eyes narrow, but Soap lets out a pleased chuckle. “Like a lad seein’ an ankle, aye?”
Instead of gloves, the pale skin of his hands is shown for the first time, patterns of ink decorating the back of his hands. The small hint of a sleeve has you desperate to see the full thing.
“You're both fuckin’ ridiculous,” Ghost scoffs, starting to swap the contents of the pan into the salad bowl.
As you move to sit up, Soap’s hands fall to your waist, pulling you so your back presses against his chest. His thumbs trace circles into the skin where your shirt rides up, but it’s more out of instinct than anything else.
“What’d you make us?” You ask, rubbing at your weary, sleepy eyes as you deflate against Soap.
“Cajun chicken ‘nd salad,” Ghost quips, serving up a plate for each of you. It smells nothing short of delicious, and you sit up straighter against the Sergeant.
“Lt and Gaz are our personal chefs,” Soap chimes, squeezing you tighter against him. “Bloody perfect at it.”
Ghost rolls his eyes, but comes over with two plates, setting them on the coffee table in front of both you and Soap. It’s a small space, next to the personal kitchen, but it’s nice. Intimate.
The first mouthful of salad is like heaven on your tongue, and you look up at Ghost with wide eyes as you swallow. “This is amazing.”
“You’d better eat it all then,” he jerks his chin towards your plate, grabbing his own before sitting on the chair to your left. Soap, still with his chest to your back, shovels his food into his mouth like a man starved.
It’s quiet, for a few moments, just the three of you enjoying your food.
“What’s the next step?” Johnny asks, around a mouthful. You elbow him in the side, and he feigns hurt. He swallows, before continuing, “Aye mean, what’re we gonna do? What lead do we follow?”
“I think,” you work your jaw around the words, thinking, “I think if we get to the root, we can bring down the whole tree.”
You scan the two men, and it’s Ghost who understands your words first.
“Shepherd. You think we should take him out first,” Ghost leans back in his seat, studying you with calculating, chocolate brown eyes. They shine in the midday light.
Nodding, you swallow around some lettuce, before continuing, looking between the two. 
“If we can find Shepherd, and learn why everything’s happened the way it has,” you rub at your face, “Then we can bring it all crumbling down. Like dominoes.”
“He’s MIA,” Soap furrows his brows, placing his empty plate on the coffee table. “We’ve tried finding the twat – he’s gone.”
You shrug, a plan forming in your mind like the final pieces of a puzzle connecting. A small, pleased smile spreads on your lips, before you’re moving off of the couch, ready to head to Price’s office.
“Where’s you going?” Ghost queries, leaning forward, elbows resting on his spread knees.
You tilt your head.
“Power in numbers, right?” Heading for the corridor, you open the door, before turning back to look at the two men one more time.
“I know two soldiers who’ve been waiting for a call.”
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598 notes · View notes
suzayaaa · 1 month
Text
ೃ⁀➷ 11:47 PM ☆.。.:*
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𓆩⟡𓆪 pairing: anton x reader
𓆩⟡𓆪 word count: 1.0k
𓆩⟡𓆪 themes: fluff, established relationship
𓆩⟡𓆪 warnings: thunderstorm
𓆩⟡𓆪 suza’s note: first anton post yippee
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The storm is loud. It’s heavy, dark, and almost agonizing, and as you’re choosing a movie to watch, you can’t help but look outside the window. It’s something between awe and terror—the sky, although dark and kind of foggy, roars every few seconds, making the silence of your and Anton’s shared apartment somewhat disturbing.
You don’t think much of it when your feet carry you through the dark home to the spare room. You open the door softly. The blue light from the computer screen gleams on his face, defining his features in the otherwise unlit room. You walk over to him and tug at his sleeve. He flinches, eyes jolt to your face only to relax immediately.
He moves the headphones from his head to his neck. “Yeah? What’s wrong?”
“What are you doing?” You look at the screen and observe the character’s flowy movements in the game’s lobby.
“Playing, wasting time,” he sighs as he turns his chair toward your body. His big hands land on your waist, touching it through the material of your pajamas barely, but securely. “Why? Is everything okay?”
You hum and the room and the sky flash pure white for two seconds and a loud growl follows. It echoes through the walls to the floor and to your feet, crumbling into your skin and clutching your muscles and lungs and throat and squeezing the air out of you in one sharp motion. Just as your hands grip Anton’s forearm, the world turns quiet and black again. You look back at Anton, not realizing your head snapped toward the window, and gulp.
“Hey,” he massages your sides with his thumbs, eyeing you attentively, “it’s okay. Come here.”
He pulls you closer until you’re sat on his lap. Your face buries in his chest, calves hanging loose on the side of his gaming chair as your fingers start to play with the hem of his shirt. His left hand moves to your hip to steady you and the other one goes back to the keyboard lit up in a pretty neon rainbow.
“I’m not that scared of thunders,” you mumble into his body, although you’re pretty sure you don’t sound that confident. “This one is just kinda,” your voice fades away because you don’t really know how to describe it.
It’s big, loud, and scary, and every time you look at the blinding thunders or hear the grumbling noises it feels as if it’s coming straight for you, your boyfriend, your apartment, and everything and everyone else around you; as if it’s going to strike right through your window and kill both of you, or worse—kill one of you and leave the other one in eternal pain, fear, and agony of losing a partner and make one of you suffer every time there is a storm.
“I know, I could hear it through the headphones, even though I think they’re noise-cancelling. I thought you’d be asleep by now.” His soft breath fans the top of your head as he logs off the game and closes all apps. You glance at the time in the right corner of the screen—11:47 pm—and hum.
“I wanted to watch a movie. Not like I’d be able to fall asleep anyway.” Anton chuckles at that, and although it comes off awkwardly, you ease into his chest when it vibrates against your ear.
“We can do it now if you want,” he offers as he turns his PC off. The keyboard and the mouse’s neons slowly fade out, leaving you in pitch black.
You hum absentmindedly. The storm seems closer without the light, more real. Your muscles stiffen at the thunder growls, even under your boyfriend’s touch.
His arms move under your knees and back as he pushes the chair away from the desk and gets up. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, although he doesn’t display any trouble carrying you.
You arrive at the living room. The TV is still on. The list of shows and movies you saved to watch later is your only source of light, but it’s enough.
He lays you on the couch and you sit up, feeling the cotton under your palms until a remote lands in your hand. In the meantime, Anton goes to the kitchen and comes back with leftover snacks crunched up in his fingers. He puts the bag on your lap and you move to the edge of the seat, making space for him to lay down. When he does, you drop the remote onto his chest, pull the coffee table closer to the couch to place the bag of snacks on it, and finally lay yourself on top of him. You cover your bodies with a blanket you grabbed earlier and wrap your arms around his neck. Before your head lands on his chest, he takes the remote from it.
“What do you want to watch?” You hear just when you are about to ask.
“I don’t know. Something not scary.” He fiddles with the remote for a good minute and then you see the search bar slowly fill up with letters—your comfort movie.
You can’t help a soft smile grace your features and you know Anton is also smiling from the way his hand, the one that is free of the remote, squeezes your waist, and his lips press a peck to the top of your head. It’s a small reminder of his love, a silent message of what you are to him and what he is to you, but it brings such relief to your mind and body, melting you into him under the warmth trapped by the blanket.
As the movie’s first scenes roll out and Anton’s light breaths fan over your head, you slowly forget about the sharp lightning bolts dancing in the sky. Anton’s big arms over you, his cologne tickling your nose, the comfort of his presence pulling on your muscles and tendons and setting them free, light like a feather. It’s all so familiar, but so lovely, and paired with his steady heartbeat, you let yourself fully relax for the first time tonight.
Because everything is and will be alright—as long as you’re in his arms.
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suzayaaa 2024 𓆩⟡𓆪
192 notes · View notes
authorhjk1 · 3 months
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/coldfanbou/713193109093285888/yerin-looks-so-hot?source=share
Possible red idea for your colour challenge?
Light Red
(Jung Yerin X Male Reader)
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Yerin's cute moans echo through the restaurant. The small sushi place near your house has become your favorite. The food is great. But that's not the main reason. The main reason is lying on the table you sat at, a couple of minutes ago.
That main reason's tight hole is squeezing your cock right now as you trust into her again and again.
You met the young singer a couple of weeks ago for the first time. Right here. After dinner and some rough sex in the restaurant's bathroom, the two of you came to an agreement. Whenever you called, she would come to this place. Whenever you wanted her immediately, she would send you a video or picture of her asking the address you are at.
You called Yerin today. An hour ago, to be exact. She did send you a picture.
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"Can't wait to get used!"
Her text made you groan, desperate to finally do what you wanted to do to her during work today.
Just like right now. Yerin's dress is bunched up around her waist, revealing her tight snatch. Your thumb plays with her clit, making her arch her back off the black wooden table.
"Oh, god! Harder!"
She is in no position to voice her demands and so you put her in her place. A loud cry, filled with a mixture of pleasure and pain is, the result as you slap her left cheek. Not too hard, but she makes a surprised face, her hand holding the red cheek.
"Quiet."
You groan, afraid you are going to get caught. She is always very loud, always begging you for more.
"What do I have to do to shut you up once and for all, hugh?"
Yerin is about to give you a cheeky reply as you forcefully bottom out inside of her. It makes her yelp instead, her hips lifting off the table. Holding her down with one hand, you reach for a piece of sushi with your other.
"One piece won't be a challenge for you, slut. Right?"
You mock her, pushing the sushi past her lips.
Yerin is unable to reply. Your thumb on her clit and the food in her mouth stopping her from doing so.
Another piece quickly follows the first and a third one joins as well. Both of Yerin's cheeks are now bulging. You slap both of them respectively, making them sting.
"Are-you-finally-quiet?"
Moans are replaced by sobs. Her lustful stare turns into watering eyes. Her pussy tightens around you and you decide to give her the final blow. Yanking the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders, you expose her chest.
With every thrust you take, her tits bounce slightly. Without warning, you slap the right one. Before Yerin can even let out a cry, you hit the left one too.
The result is Yerin's climax. You'd found out that she has a thing for pain a couple of days ago. She likes getting punished.
A couple of pieces of rice escape her mouth as it forms an O shape. Her body quivers atop the table. Her nails digging into the wood. One leg escapes your grip, knocking over a bowl of rice. With a thud, it hits the carpet on the floor, making a mess.
"Horny idiot."
You growl at Yerin, reaching forward to wrap a hand around her throat. Increasing the pace of your thrusts, you don't give her time to calm down from her orgasm. Your hand on her thigh squeezes her so hard that it's gonna leave bruises, while the one on her throat starts to cut off her air supply.
Yerin starts choking, more food flying out of her mouth and landing on the table, her hair and her face.
"I've had enough of you, slut."
Both of your hands leave her body and your each for the red dress around her waist. Without even thinking about the consequences for a second, you grab the hem. A loud, drawn out tearing sound echoes through the room as you tear Yerin's whole dress apart. A huge rip at the front. From top to bottom.
You lean over the now naked woman, trapping her in place with your weight as you start pulling out the remaining sushi in her mouth. Once that's done, Yeri tries to talk again, but you quickly shove her torn dress inside her mouth. It also covers her face once you let go of it.
The sight makes you fuck her harder. Yerin, completely naked, her torn dress stuffed into her mouth. This is what she signed up for. She gladly excepts whatever you throw her way.
"I'm gonna ruin you, you know? Little by little. Everytime. Until you actually want me to use you in public. On stage, on the streets, during a fan sign. Everywhere."
You can barely hear her muffled moans as you keep fucking her. Her tight pussy sucks you in like a black hole. Always hungry. Never satisfied. Just like you, whenever she sends you a half naked picture, or a video of herself.
"Gonna cum, fuck!"
You groan, rubbing across her clit for a little longer, enjoying the fullness of her thighs one last time, by squeezing them harshly. A moment before you climax, you pull out. Wanting to paint her whole body with your cum. The first streak hits her stomach. From her navel, up to her tits. The second one hits the red dress. It's already ruined anyways. The third rope of your cum hits her chest and the last one, as your legs buckle from this insane pleasure and beautiful sight, lands on her dark hair.
Your masterpiece is finished. And you are drained completely. You are satisfied. And as you start getting dressed, you don't even think about how Yerin is supposed to get out of here.
222 notes · View notes
suguae · 3 months
Text
Dazed and confused
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synopsis! Amidst doubts and desires, their bond deepened, culminating in a night of passionate exploration and newfound commitment.
pairings! G. Suguru x F! reader, G. Satoru x F! reader.
contents! Polyamorous relationship, smoking, MDNI!
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You lay there, the bustling sound of the city muted by the tall glass panes of your apartment. The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm, golden hue across the room and caressing your skin with its gentle touch. The familiar comfort of your apartment surrounded you, the soft sheets and plush pillows adding to the serene atmosphere.
With a contented sigh, you turned your head to the left. There, peacefully asleep, was the one with beautiful white eyelashes that perfectly matched his snowy white hair. His skin, soft and dewy, glowed faintly in the morning light, making him look ethereal. Every detail of his face, from the gentle curve of his lips to the serene expression he wore in sleep, made your heart flutter with a tender ache.
Turning your gaze to the right, you found another source of your heart's turmoil. His dark lashes lay low over his cheeks, moving slightly with his soft, rhythmic snores. His black, silky hair framed his face, contrasting beautifully with the sunlight that played upon his features. His presence was just as calming, yet it stirred something equally profound within you.
Caught between these two captivating souls, you wondered why your heart fluttered for both. The question lingered, mingling with the quiet morning air, leaving you to ponder the depths of your feelings for these two. As these thoughts swirled in your mind, you couldn't help but wonder if your feelings were fair. Were you being selfish, trying to keep them both to yourself?
You rolled your eyes, trying to push the conflicting thoughts to the back of your mind as you softly got off the bed. Your naked body wandered through your bedroom, searching for any piece of clothing discarded in the heat of last night. Each movement brought a soft wince as the soreness they had left you in made itself known, a lingering reminder of the intensity you had shared.
With a resigned sigh, you gave up on finding your clothes and reached for the nearest item of clothing—a shirt belonging to Satoru. It was oversized, his scent still lingering faintly in the fabric. Slipping it on, you felt a sense of comfort and familiarity. The shirt's sleeves draped over your hands, the hem falling to mid-thigh.
You moved to the window, the early morning light casting a soft glow across the room. The city of Shinjuku below was already alive with activity, the streets bustling with people starting their day. You crawled over to the small table beside the bed, reaching for the pack of Suguru's cigarettes.
 Lighting a cigarette, you took a deep drag, feeling the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling slowly. The action brought a sense of calm, a momentary escape from the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Your gaze drifted to the view outside, the towering skyscrapers and endless sea of people a stark contrast to the intimacy of your bedroom.
"Smoking without me?" Suguru's deep, raspy morning voice interrupted your thoughts. You turned around to see him stretching lazily, his toned abs catching the morning light, and his boxers hanging low on his hips. He gave you a sleepy smile as he slid down next to you, reaching out to take the cigarette from your fingers. "Couldn't resist," you replied with a playful smirk, watching as he took a drag from the cigarette. His eyes closed momentarily, savoring the taste and the quiet morning.
He opened his eyes and looked at you, the intensity in his gaze softened by the early hour. "You look good in Satoru's shirt," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. You half-heartedly smiled at him, watching the smoke escape his lips in delicate swirls. "Yeah?" you barely whispered, your voice soft and tinged with longing. You reached out, your hand trembling slightly, to caress his face. The need to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin under your fingertips, was overwhelming—as if you hadn't touched him in forever.
Suguru closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, his rough morning stubble grazing your palm. The simple act of touching him sent a shiver down your spine, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you both. He placed his hand over yours, holding it against his cheek, his warmth radiating through your fingers.
"Yeah," he whispers back, his voice barely audible over the soft hum of the morning. He leans in, his gaze fixed on your lips, his longing evident in every inch of his being. He yearns to kiss you, to feel the warmth of your lips against his, even if it's just for a fleeting moment.
Closing the distance between you, he presses his lips against yours, his touch gentle yet filled with a hunger that cannot be denied. Your tongues meet in a delicate dance, exploring each other's mouths with a fervor born of desire and affection. Soft whimpers escape your lips, mingling with the sound of Satoru's soft snores, creating a symphony of intimacy that fills the room.
In this moment, there is only the two of you, lost in the sensation of each other's touch. The world outside fades away, leaving behind only the warmth of your embrace and the sweet taste of each other's kisses. It's a moment of pure bliss, a fleeting glimpse of perfection in an imperfect world.
As you finally pull away, breathless and flushed with desire, you meet his gaze, your eyes reflecting the depth of your emotions. In that silent exchange, you both know that this connection between you is something special, something worth cherishing.
With a soft smile, he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet intimacy of the morning. "Is it selfish to love you both the same?" you whispered, more to yourself than to anyone else, the question lingering in the air. Suguru took another drag of the cigarette before getting up, the morning light casting a soft glow on his features. You admired him once more, taking in the sight of his neck adorned with love bites and hickeys, a testament to the passion you had shared.
He looked down at you, his gaze soft yet intense, and gave you a soft smile. "I'll prepare us some breakfast, alright?" he muttered before turning and leaving you there with Satoru. 
As you watched Suguru leave, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over you. The love you felt for both him and Satoru was undeniable, but it also brought with it a sense of guilt and uncertainty. Was it fair to love them both equally? Were you being selfish in wanting to keep them both in your life?
Satoru's hands fumbled around the bed, searching for the comforting presence of either you or Suguru. When he found neither, his head lifted abruptly, a flicker of concern crossing his features. However, before he could voice his worry, you smiled to yourself, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.
"I'm still here," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper, as you stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the counter of your bedside table. Slowly, you reached back into the sheets, your arms wrapping around Satoru's muscular figure from behind.
He let out a soft sigh of relief, his tension melting away as he felt your familiar touch. "Mm, I thought you guys left me alone," he whispered, his voice heavy with sleep as he leaned back into your embrace.
As you nestled closer to Satoru, your gaze trailed down to his neck, where love bites and hickeys adorned his skin in a pattern similar to Suguru's. Each mark was a testament to the passion and intimacy you had shared with him, a tangible reminder of the love that bound you together.
You traced your fingers lightly over the marks, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. Each hickey elicited a soft sigh from him, his body responding instinctively to your caress. In that moment, you felt a surge of affection for him, grateful for the depth of your connection.
Satoru shifted slightly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his eyes meeting yours with a tender gaze. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.
You stayed silent, your gaze locked with Satoru's icy blue eyes. A whirlwind of emotions churned within you, the words "I love you too" lingering on the tip of your tongue. But were you allowed to say it? 
As you wrestled with your inner turmoil, Satoru's hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a reassuring gesture. His eyes searched yours, a silent question lingering in their depths.
"We should go join Suguru," you finally said, breaking the heavy silence that hung between you. "He's preparing breakfast for us."
As you walked together with Satoru and Suguru on campus, the envy and jealousy from other students was palpable. Girls stared at you with a mixture of admiration and resentment, their whispers like venomous snakes slithering into your ears.
You bit your lip, trying to ignore the harsh words thrown your way, but each comment felt like a dagger to your heart. "What a greedy bitch," one girl muttered under her breath, her tone dripping with disdain. "What a whore, going for both," another added, her laughter cutting through the air like a sharp knife. "A little desperate, isn't she?" yet another voice chimed in, the words echoing in your mind like a haunting refrain.
Despite your best efforts to brush off the hurtful comments, they wormed their way into your thoughts, gnawing at your confidence and self-worth. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as if the entire world was judging you for daring to love two people at once. Was it wrong?
"My love, eat," Suguru's gentle voice breaks through the fog of your thoughts as he places a plate of food in front of you. His hands hover over your shoulders, a silent gesture of concern and care.
You glance up at Suguru, meeting his eyes briefly before looking over at Satoru, who watches you with a worried expression. He brings his hand up to yours, his touch soft and reassuring as he gently caresses the back of your hand. "Yeah... Thank you," you softly murmur, offering a gentle smile as you look down at the plate of food in front of you. Despite your attempt at reassurance, you can sense the worry emanating from Suguru and Satoru as they exchange concerned glances.
You take a deep breath, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts that cloud your mind. With a determined effort, you focus on the food in front of you, taking a bite and savoring the flavors that dance on your tongue. Suguru and Satoru watch you quietly, their eyes filled with a mixture of love and concern. They may not fully understand what's troubling you.
As you noticed the secretive texting between Suguru and Satoru, a sense of unease crept over you. Each time their phones buzzed, they would exchange quick glances before turning their attention back to their screens. Despite their attempts to appear nonchalant, it was clear that something was going on.
Your heart raced as Satoru finally spoke up, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "My pretty girl," he began, inhaling sharply before continuing, "Me and Suguru have some errands to run. Do you mind waiting for us?"
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing with each passing second. You looked between the two of them, searching their faces for any hint of what was really going on. But they remained stoic, their expressions carefully neutral.
"I'm fine... Go ahead," you managed to say, forcing a smile onto your face despite the turmoil brewing inside you. Deep down, though, you couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that gnawed at your insides.
As hours passed and the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourself alone in the bedroom of your apartment, the only sound filling the silence, the ticking of the clock on the wall. With a cigarette between your lips, you sat on the edge of the bed, the smoke curling around you in lazy tendrils.
You wore one of your oversized sweaters, the fabric soft against your skin, paired with a pair of cheeky shorts that offered little protection against the chill of the evening. Despite the warmth of the sweater, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped you.
The hours had stretched on, each minute feeling like an eternity as you waited for Suguru and Satoru to return. But as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon and darkness descended upon the city, they were still nowhere to be found.
What could they have been doing that cost them the whole day? The question lingered in your mind, filling you with a sense of apprehension. You had tried to distract yourself with various tasks, but the worry gnawed at your insides, refusing to be ignored.
You took a drag from the cigarette, the smoke swirling around you in the dim light of the room. Your thoughts drifted to Suguru and Satoru, their secretive behavior earlier in the day now casting a shadow of doubt over your mind.
As you sat up, a wave of frustration washed over you. You weren't technically dating Suguru and Satoru; your relationship was more complicated than that. But despite the lack of official labels, the bond you shared with them was undeniably deep and meaningful.
You cursed under your breath, grappling with the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. Did you have the right to wonder what had been taking them so long? After all, you weren't their girlfriend in the traditional sense.
As if on cue, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching your bedroom, and before you knew it, Suguru and Satoru were standing before you, holding an array of gifts. Roses, candies, and a bunch of other thoughtful items adorned their arms, their faces adorned with sheepish smiles.
Your mouth hung open in astonishment at the unexpected sight before you. You hadn't expected them to return with gifts, especially after the hours of worry and uncertainty you had endured. "What is all this for?" you ask, standing up and crushing the cigarette into the ashtray. Making your way towards Suguru and Satoru, you feel a mix of curiosity and gratitude bubbling up inside you as you admire each and every one of the gifts they've brought.
"We saw that you looked a little down today, and so we tried our best to get everything you really liked," Satoru chuckled, his voice warm and reassuring as he and Suguru placed the gifts down on the nearest countertop.
You smiled through the tears that welled in your eyes, feeling overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in the room. Taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage before looking at Suguru and Satoru with a determined gaze.
"Can we actually talk? The three of us?" you asked, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. Suguru and Satoru exchanged a glance, their expressions softening with concern as they nodded in agreement. "Of course, love," Suguru said, his voice gentle and reassuring. 
As you three settled on the bed, with Satoru and Suguru sitting in front of you, you felt a mix of nerves and determination wash over you. Playing with your fingers, you cleared your throat, gathering your thoughts before speaking."What are we exactly?" you began, your voice steady despite the flutter of uncertainty in your chest. "Are we just...fuck buddies, or does this mean something more to you guys?"
Satoru's furrowed brows and intense gaze held you captive as his hand gently lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. His touch was both firm and tender, his eyes burning with a raw emotion that sent shivers down your spine.
"Don't you know we love you?" Satoru's voice was a whispered plea, filled with urgency and sincerity. "Don't you know me and Suguru would do anything in the world for you? Don't you know that we'd fucking die for you?"
His words echoed in the air, hanging heavy with the weight of his emotions. You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his love and devotion reflected back at you.
Without another word, Satoru grasped your wrist and pulled you closer, guiding you to sit on his lap. The warmth of his body enveloped you, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. Suguru's words sent a shiver down your spine as he leaned in closely, his lips brushing against your neck in gentle kisses. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.
"I know what goes on in that pretty head of yours," Suguru whispered, his voice low and husky with desire. His words were like a balm to your soul, soothing the doubts and fears that had plagued you.
Meanwhile, Satoru's hand slipped under your sweatshirt, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. His fingers played with your breast, teasing and tantalizing you with each caress. "Who gives a fuck what anyone thinks of us," Suguru added, his voice filled with determination and defiance. His words echoed in the air, a reminder that your love was yours to cherish, regardless of the judgments or opinions of others.
Satoru's nibbles on your earlobe sent a shiver down your spine, his touch igniting a fire within you. As his hands roamed down to the waistband of your shorts, anticipation coursed through your veins, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Do you love us?" Satoru's question hung in the air, heavy with meaning and significance. Without any hesitation, you nodded, the truth of your feelings undeniable.
"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the rush of desire that flooded your senses. "I love you both more than anything."
Suguru's intervention, sliding off your shorts completely, added to the intensity of the moment. His touch was gentle yet possessive, his desire evident in the way he looked at you.
"Do you want us to be in a relationship, just us three?" Satoru's question echoed in the air, the weight of it settling over you like a warm blanket. It was a question you had pondered many times before, but hearing it spoken aloud filled you with a sense of anticipation and excitement.
As Suguru and Satoru's hands explored your body, igniting flames of passion wherever they touched, you felt a sense of clarity wash over you. "Yes," you breathed, your voice filled with certainty.
Suguru's gaze locked with yours as he descended down to your lower area, his lips leaving a trail of butterfly kisses along your inner thigh. Each kiss sent shivers of anticipation racing through your body, your breath catching in your throat as desire pooled low in your belly.
"Then we're yours, my love," Suguru purred, his voice husky with desire. His fingers toyed with the hem of your panties, teasing and tantalizing you with each touch.
You felt a surge of heat rush through you at his words, your heart swelling with love and desire for the two men before you. In that moment, surrounded by their love and devotion, you knew that you had found your home, your sanctuary in their arms
Suguru slowly removes your panties, revealing your cunt. Taking a moment he admired the sight in front of him, igniting a burning desire within him. His fingers softly tracing over your folds, savoring the softness of your skin. Your soft whimpers were like music to their ears, “Mm”
Satoru’s hands still focus on your breast exploring with his eager fingers, kneading and squeezing them. The pleasure igniting him hearing your helpless whines as flicks your nipples while his soft peachy lips showered kisses onto your neck, sucking with purpose. He wanted to mark you up. 
Suguru slowly enters his fingers inside you, watching you squirm at the touch of not only his but Satoru’s. Smirking at the sight, he couldn’t help but take a glance at your pretty face. His fox-like eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “So wet hmm?” Sucking on his fingers moaning softly at the taste of your arousal.
“Sugu..” you softly moan as you pull Satoru’s white locks, “Wanna taste?” Suguru looked up at Satoru, a knowing smirk spread across his face as he nodded. Suguru continues to tease your entrance with his fingers, before plugging them back in. His other hand moves to your clit, rubbing slow circles over the swollen bud.”ahh fuck..” you whine. Suguru brings his gingers to Satoru’s lips, encouraging him to suck the juices off. 
“So sweet,” Satoru mutters as his hands reach the hem of your sweatshirt, As Satoru's hands deftly slipped the material of the sweatshirt off of you, a rush of excitement washed over you. With a gentle tug, the fabric slid down your arms, revealing your bare skin to his hungry gaze.
You felt a flush of heat spread across your cheeks as Satoru's eyes roamed over your exposed form, his gaze filled with admiration and desire. “Shit” You yelp as Suguru grins against your clit, his tongue flicking and teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves. He sucks and nibbles on it lightly, knowing exactly how sensitive you were. Since it wasn’t the first time y three have done this, nor was it the second. Matter of fact, you probably lost count on how many times. 
Satoru’s fingers trace lightly along your jawline, tilting your head up to meet his lips. He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as Suguru sucks on your clit. His own arousal growing at the sounds of your muffled moans. Satoru’s hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back against him. His hard cock presses against your back, seeking some sort of friction. He grinds against you, his breath hot against your neck as he watches Suguru pleasure you with his tongue. 
“I wan you..” you whimper, “I wan you both..” Satoru smirked watching the sweat bead off your forehead as you pull his white locks, “Fuck fill me up,” Suguru pulls his mouth away from your clit, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watches you catch your breath. His thumb continues to rub circles on your entrance, as he watches Satoru grind against you. 
“Of course pretty girl,” Satoru whispers, laying back…satoru guides you on top of him as you slowly slide down his long girthy cock, “ ‘s big toru” Satoru chuckles darkly as you yelp, but his hands quickly move to your hips, steadying you as you sink down onto his cock. The feeling of fullness making you moan as your boobs squished against his chest.
Satoru’s hands tighten on your hips, halting you as he glances over your shoulder to Suguru. He grins nodding his head in approval as he sees Sugurru positioning himself behind you. “Jus like last night, okay my love?” Suguru said spreading your ass cheeks apart. You nod drunk on Satoru’s cock sitting inside you, “Slow baby..” you mutter.
Taking a deep breath Suguru slowly pushes his cock against your tight asshole. Graning softly as he slides in, his hands gripping onto Satoru’s hands that rested on your hips as he stretches you open. “That’s it my love, so tight and perfect…” You squirm and writhe under the combined pressure of Satoru and Suguru filling you up. You can’t help but moan, a mess of pleasure and ecstasy as you adjust to the feeling, “fuck, fuck…so full..” 
Suguru leans in and captures Satoru’s lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. His hips thrusting slowly as he kisses Satoru, his cock buried deep in your ass. You lean in, joining the messy kiss, your own moans mingling with theirs as you adjust to the feeling of both Satoru and Suguru filling you up. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, but you welcome it, craving more and more as you grind against them.
“Fuck I love you y/n.” Suguru moans, pulling away from the kiss leaving you and Satoru dazed in your own world as you exchange saliva. Suguru thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside your ass while you yelp between shared kisses with Satoru. “fuck–I love ya’ more..” You breathily moan before biting down on Satoru’s neck as you took in not only Satoru’s long girthy cock, but Suguru’s fat cock.
Satoru’s hand reaches down, grasping your chin, tilting your head so that you’re looking into his eyes. His hips continue to move in rhythm with yours, his cock thrusting deep inside of you, “Tell me you love me too..”
The insane pleasure and euphoric feeling overwhelmed your body as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, “Satoru, I–eh, I fucking love you.” The skin slapping of the two ramming their cock inside you echoed the room accompanying your moans. “Fuck, Sugu—Toru’ m’ gonna cum.” You close your eyes as the knot begins to form in your stomach.
“Yeah? m’too pretty girl…” Satoru lowly groans as you could feel his cock twitch inside you. “Cum inside me—Toru’...please” your voice needy and full of lust as you beg him wanting to feel his cum fill you up inside. 
Feeling completely full with both Satoru and Suguru’s cock inside you, their thrust becoming more urgent and desperate chasing their own release, “Sugu..please—cum inside me too. Please I wan’ both to fill me up so good.” 
The cum oozed out of your cunt and ass while Satoru and Suguru left small kisses fluttered around your body. As you caught your breath, your body still tingling with the lingering sensations of pleasure, you felt a surge of desire wash over you. 
Their hands met yours, each one cupping your breast, their touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You felt a rush of excitement as their fingers trailed over your skin, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.
With a playful smile, you looked at Suguru and Satoru, your eyes filled with desire and anticipation. "Round 2?"
343 notes · View notes
narcissistshandler · 11 months
Note
Can you fo reader x JongGun🙏
Like after Daniel broke his arm, he comes to your apartment, you might worried, teasing him or being jealous, and everything happens after that...
𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗪𝗘?
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✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 gn! reader x park jong gun
✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 top!amab reader, bottom! gun, anal sex, masturbation (mentioned), jealous behavior, thoughts about hurting and drawing blood (in a romantic way), broken bones, and some sadism/masochism at the end
✧ 𝖠/𝖭 yeah, I didn't like the result of that (this has not been edited so please let me know if there is any mention/hint of the reader's gender)
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He was already there when you arrived, even if you didn't notice his presence, one with the shadows of the room. It was as if he purposefully sought to hide and leave you with the uncomfortable feeling that you weren't alone, that there were eyes following you, and that there was something out of place - even if you didn't know for sure what.
And when you flicked the finger on the switch and the room filled with light, you couldn't help but jump when saw him sitting on your bed, with an unusual smile on his face, the eyes darker than usual, and wearing only one of your shirts. There was a tension there that you only felt when you stepped towards him and saw the spark of amusement in the curve of his lips, the excited insanity.
The air seemed to grow thicker, even though you merely tried to engage him in shallow conversation. Which you already had enough experience with to know it was difficult. Gun was reserved, in the best of words. He came and went as he pleased, had what he wanted and then disappeared without even an explanation.
What were you? You asked yourself every damn day. Your circle was smaller than it seemed, you heard his name quite often and it wasn't uncommon to bump into him, he also had the keys to your house, but that didn't make what you had something serious.
You tried not to think about it as Gun kissed you - ravaged your mouth as if he was furious with you, or at the very least, very excited. He was eager today - pulling your clothes off, biting your neck, fighting the fabric of your pants to get to your dick as quickly as possible. He was also talkative, 'I prepared myself for you while I waited', 'I thought about you while I did it', he said, knowing exactly how to tease you and leave you wanting him. 'I came on your bed, on your sheets, on your pillow', and you can almost smell him in your room after those words leave his mouth.
And his ass really was prepared for you, dripping with lube on your bed and his hard dick forming a tent under the shirt he had stolen from your closet.
You felt like a crazy person, like an addict who couldn't fight the source of the addiction. Gun only had to spread his legs for you, and like an eager puppy, you lined yourself up with a shaking hand on the relaxed hole and sank inside, where you belonged. What are we? The question came back to you. What does all this make us? Because you knew it had been months, maybe years, since Gun had slept with anyone else, neither did you.
You grabbed Gun's hands, somehow wanting to force him to answer the question that didn't even come out of your mouth and tried to hold his arms up. You wanted to know if he felt the same way. "Urgh," Gun groaned, and easily fought against your power. The sound full of pain and discomfort sounded alien in his mouth and it completely captured your attention. Only then did you notice that Gun wasn't moving one of his arms, which was swollen and turning red.
Your movements began to slow down, until they almost stopped. "Don't you dare!" He grunted, legs immediately wrapping around your waist and heels digging into your ass.
"You’re hurt, you need to go to the hospital," you argued, not being able to help but worry, but Gun wasn’t having any of it. Even with one of his arms broken, he moved as nimbly as usual and he easily reversed your positions so that he was now sitting on top of you, your cock not even leaving the heat of his hole. "You're fucking insane!" you moaned at the show of strength. Gun looked damn erotic on top of you, riding you, even with one of his arms limp at his side, wrapped in the long sleeve of your shirt.
"As if you didn't already know that," he replied, the smile wide on his kiss-swollen lips. "I came here to fuck, not get medical advice, so shut up and let me work."
But you just couldn't shut up. "What- ah, happened?" You asked through clenched teeth as you watched Gun's long, firm legs sink into the mattress with each rise and fall, his dick hidden under the shirt forming a wet spot on the fabric.
Gun responded to you without haste, releasing disjointed sentences and words as he mounted you, firmly and quickly, successfully taking the breath away from both of you. “Charles Choi,” he said, and then “fight” and a “brat” that he repeated a few times and that you didn’t think much of until you noticed who it referred to – Daniel.
"Daniel broke your arm?" You repeated his words, your fingers digging into Gun's thighs in a failed attempt to slow him down so you could make sure you heard him right.
Gun's smile seemed to get even bigger, and for the first time, you hated seeing him smiling.
"Why? Jealous?" And only Gun would think anyone would be jealous of someone taking blood and breaking someone else's bones. But then wasn't that what you were feeling? Not anger at Daniel for hurting Gun, but jealousy. Jealousy that you wasn't the one to hurt him, leave your mark behind on Gun's body and that Daniel was the one to get Gun all hot and excited.
That strange, possessive part of your mind stirred - you almost wanted to draw blood from Gun at that moment.
"You’re a slut," you accused, not at all denying Gun’s statement. He chuckled and swiveled his hips in a sensual circle, the good hand resting on your stomach. He was teasing you, you realized.
Then the notion hit you, you didn't need to resort to such methods to mark him as yours, after all, only you were capable of having him like this, naked, in your bed, with hot cheeks and fucking himself on your dick. You had already left your mark implanted deep into his body where you doubted anyone else would ever be able to be.
Your feet dug into the mattress, hips jumping off the bed to slam against Gun's ass. The sound he made was downright obscene, what looked like tears glistening in the corners of his black eyes, the psychotic smile still there. He was yours, it was the first time you noticed. He had chosen to come to you, because no one else knew this slutty side of him, because no one else could feed that side, only you.
Gun fell willingly against your chest, moaning and trying to move back against you, hungry, looking for more of your cock, more of the aggression and pain. Pain. One of your hands rested on his back, keeping him lying on top of you and the other wandered, found Gun's long fingers and then closed around his wrist, tightly and then, you pulled his broken arm.
The scream that came from Gun's throat would forever be etched in your memory; his cock twitched and spilled, further soiling the shirt he was wearing.
At that moment, you knew what you two were, complete lunatics who would always find in each other exactly what they needed. There were no longer any doubts.
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garoujo · 1 year
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✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — nagi tries his best to make sure the room is as dark as you like during your first time together.
warnings: f!reader, all characters written 22+, this is vvv heavily inspired by a scene in the yamada-kun at lvl999 manga that was just so very nagi-coded to me! hint at inexperienced nagi + reader wants the room to be dark, just a lil awkward moment :3 ! note: i had to write this for him or i was gonna die &lt;3
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you feel so good beneath him, nagi thinks as your hands tangle in his hair — nails grazing along the revealed skin of his back as he pushes you deeper into the pillows beneath you with every press of his lips with yours. he’s breathing deep as his tongue lavs and grazes along your own, his large body inbetween your spread thighs as he paws and grabs at your waist to pull you closer.
“wait!” you hesitate suddenly and it’s immediate the way he pulls back at your words despite the way he’s all soft pants and flushed to his bare chest. this sort of intimacy was new to him, he’d never had a woman in his apartment never mind in his bed and you’re so fucking pretty, you’re bare and he’s only left in his sweats but maybe he’s moving a little fast.
“uh..” nagi begins as you send him a starry eyed look, your body hidden underneath his comforter so only your collarbones and top of your chest are visible. “do you wanna stop?” maybe he did something wrong, he didn’t want to make you uncomfy or maybe he was getting too ahead of himself.
“don’t you think it’s a little bright still?” your words are quiet and he thinks you’re so cute when you avert your eyes away from him, your hands twisting tightly into the comforter underneath your palms as you try to hide more of your revealed skin. his eyes swipe along your features, across your collarbones and the skin that he’s craving to map out with his lips as he lets your question roll around in his head.
“eh, i turned off all the lights like you asked.” nagi tilts his head as his bangs swipe along his flushed cheeks — a little confused to what you mean as you nuzzle yourself deeper into his sheets, peeking out with puffed cheeks as he looks over you.
“whys your apartment so bright, seishiro?! it’s still super bright in here!” adorable, he thinks you’re adorable despite the way he’s a little confused as to what’s happening right now. he pushes himself back onto his knees and he lets his drowsy gaze look around the room as he squints into the dim lighting.
“really? what a pain, i can barely see you though.”
“liar! you’re moving like you can see everything!” you grumble with your words before you’re burying yourself under the comforter and nagi scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck before he sighs, a little unsure what to say as he lets the silence blanket you both.
“over there! it’s your desk, the light source!” your hand points out from underneath the fabric and he lets his head tilt over his shoulder as he looks at his computer. the led lights on his keyboard and mouse still glow and the wallpaper on his desktop is pretty bright. “why do you even have that? its so bright!”
“eh? it’s cool though.” nagi mumbles as he shrugs his shoulder but he still finds himself getting up to turn it off when you mumble about it. the room becoming even dimmer than before when the bright colours finally fall dark.
“‘s this better?” he asks as he squints in the direction he knows his bed is in before you sound out a yes and he takes a careful step. “ah, i can’t see now though. don’t you think ‘ts bothersome? i wanna see you.” his question is spoken through a pout before it’s followed by a soft little ow when he trips over what he can only assume is a cable, but it brings him down hard to the base of his bed atleast — like he’s just accidentally reached the goal.
“are you okay, sei?” you sound after a few moments of awkward silence, your fingers finally finding nagi’s as he kneels at the end of the bed — lifting his head to look at you as he groans. he can’t see you completely, but he can feel the way the sheets move with your figure and he wants nothing more than to replace them with the press of him instead.
“yup, ‘m fine. ah, my eyes adjusted to the dark though.” it only takes a few moments and he still thinks you’re cute when he can finally see the way your lips jut up into a pout — a little taken back by how quick he seems to adapt.
“already!? what is with you gamers?”
“eh, dunno.. super powers i guess.” but now he’s here, back where he started as nagi lets himself rest infront of you — careful hands pressing past the fabric that covers your figure before he exhales with the first warm touch of your skin against his.
“can i kiss you more now, please?” it’s hesitant as he looks at you but you still seem to melt into him so easily before you nod and his lips are back on yours. his kiss feels like it burns you in the best way and his lungs quake with his next trembling exhale when your thighs wrap around his hips — pulling him closer until he’s got you caged against the mattress and his bare chest presses tight against your own.
nagi gasps as he presses himself into you and it’s clumsy the way he pulls back to mouth at your throat — his hands pushing and palming at the remaining fabric separating you both. he’s still new to this, a little embarrassed at his lack of experience maybe, but he’s never had someone say his name like you do in the moments his intimate skin finally presses against yours and he’s never been so motivated to learn as he suckles messy kisses down your body.
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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rodolfoparras · 1 year
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Ftm or Afab Miguel <3
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Workload
Pairing: Ftm! Miguel O’Hara x Top! Male Reader
Synopsis: In which you find ways to spend time with your boyfriend Miguel even though he’s busy with work
Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, cockwarming, underwear theft
A/N: pls excuse any mistakes I decided to redo a good chunk of this last minute
It was no secret that your boyfriend Miguel was rather dedicated to work so much so he spent hours cooped up in his make shift office or in other words his platform. You didn’t mind it much because you understood the responsibilities he carried on his shoulders and you tried to give him space to work whenever you sensed that he needed it.
There were days where he barely slept or ate and his only source of light was the one produced by his monitors and that worried you, of course.
But at the end of the day you understood, brought him a take out box of food or a blanket or two, even forced him outside every once a while to get some sunlight.
These past days he’d been glued to his platform, only leaving it to eat and sleep (something you were grateful for) before quickly returning to work, quitely mentioning the words multiverse and workload before disappearing into his world of monitors.
You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t miss him most importantly you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t miss being with him.
It’s been a while since the two of you have properly had sex, having to settle for quickies in the shower to relieve any stress before Miguel had to go back to his work again.
Again, you understood, “multiverse”, “ workload” “grave consequences if it all fell apart”. But God the warmth of your palm was nothing compared to the warmth of his walls as they fluttered around your cock, and you rather have fingers buried inside of him than having them wrapped around your shaft. Not to mention how having his boxers pressed against your mouth is nothing like being buried between his thighs, vigorously eating him out and having him squirt into your mouth.
Eventually you came up with the perfect plan on how to spend some quality time with your wonderful boyfriend without disturbing him while he’s working and you feel your cock twitch inside your pants as you make your way over to his make shift office.
You walk into the room only to be met with the sight of Miguel with multiple screens pulled up in front of him. He must’ve just gotten out of the shower going by the wet curls at the nape of his neck, the way his clothes are sticking to his skin along with the way you can smell his body wash from where you’re standing.
You swiftly make your way over to where he’s standing, arms slinging around his shoulders and face burying in his neck.
“Oh what’s this?” you say to him, as you take a peak at his screen.
He tenses at first but quickly relaxes when he recognizes your touch and your voice.
“Work” he grunts out in a simple reply, still focused on his work
“What kind of work?” you ask, voice just as curios as before and gaze still glued to the monitor.
Miguel turns his head, almost bumps his nose with yours as he meets your smiling face.
No one has ever really taken interest in Miguel’s work before.
Sure everyone knows he’s in charge of the multiverse, but no one’s ever bothered to ask him about the details of it all, settling for only asking a handful of questions if it was a life or death matter.
But you weren’t like any other spiderperson he’d met before, always poking and prodding more than one should but for some reason Miguel didn't seem to be bothered with, matter of fact he was rather intrigued with it.
Miguel turns back to the screens in front of him, and for a moment you only hear the sound of fingers tapping before he speaks
“It’s called web of life.” He starts off slowly, glancing at your face carefully as if expecting you to lose interest any second. But when he notices that he has your full attention he delves into the depth of things.
He talks so fast and animatedly you get a flash of his fangs every time he goes to say something. His hands move so fast you barely catch them as he gestures to the many different screens in front of him and his eyes have this glint in them that you’re sure aren’t solely there for the monitors surrounding him.
You do your best to keep up with him, humming and nodding in the right places, even chirping in with a comment or two when you grasp the concept of something.
Somehow though, it had ended with him seated on your lap, his sweatpants and shirt long discarded on the floor, you with your sweats and boxers pulled down to your knees, and your cock buried deep inside his cunt.
His explanations are disrupted by gasps and shallow breaths as your hand wraps around his neck, fingers just resting there or the way your hands will find his thighs, gently fondling them.
“And this Ah fuck- this is earth 786” he hisses out, eyes squeezing shut, shivers running through his entire body as he reacts to your teasing touch.
And every time he gestured to something you’d suddenly shift in your seat, nudging a sensitive spot inside of him and causing him to tightly clutch onto the monitors in front of him, so much so they threatened to crack under his grip.
“Please I can’t -“ the screens grunt and groans under his grip as his cunt clenches around your dick, desperately searching for any sort of relief.
By the time you’re done teasing him his hair has long dried. The smell of his body wash is replaced with the smell of his arousal. His hand has a stealth grip on your wrist and you see the flash of fang as he pleads of you to “fuck me, fuck me, please”
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boyfhee · 1 year
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AMBER AND ALCOHOL
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g fluff w kissing, mentions of drinking, hee's tipsy n ri talked about tipsy hee from prada after party and i had to do this
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“hey beautiful,” your soft gasp spins in the air as heeseung’s arms wrap around your waist from behind, his face nuzzled up in your neck; something that makes you freeze in your stance as you’re cleaning the kitchen counter after dinner. 
“hee?” you say a little above the silence in the kitchen. the pendant lights being the only source of lighting around, it only reminds you how pretty he looks under the dim yellow glow— exactly what he’s thinking right now, about you. “back already?”
and you had expected him to stay out at least till an hour after midnight. after all, evening plans with the guys always keep him out of the doors of his apartment, usually inside a karaoke bar or someone's house, watching a movie. “hm, just missed you, my love,”
his arms wrap a little tighter around you as those words fall off his lips and you chuckle, assuming he’s feeling a bit clingier than usual. you feel his lips softly grazing against your shoulders, a touch that takes you to heaven and back. and it’s nice— to stand in the plain silence of the night, just the two of you and the sound of your soft conversations whispered into the air, just his kisses that trace along your neck, just the way you could stand there and soak in his presence forever. 
you turn around, his arms not leaving your waist even for a second, pushing you against the counter instead as he steps closer, just close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your lips— your furrow your brows in dubiety. “did you drink?”
“a little,” he nods in response, whispering against your neck. “you smell so good, angel,” he leans in again, stroking his lips over your collarbones. “did you get a new perfume?”
“yeah, yesterday,” you reply with a soft hum.
and heeseung looks up at you, pulling you a little closer by your waist as he goes in for a kiss, his nose brushing against yours, lips just a few centimetres apart before you put your finger in between. “you reek of alcohol,”
“ah,” he pauses, looking at you before chuckling ever so quietly, burying his face in your neck once again, enamoured, drowsy, tipsy, against your clavicle. “guess i don’t smell as good at you,”
you feel his breath against your skin as you both laugh, a sound that resonates with melody and melancholy. you fingers fiddle with the tips of his hair, lips planting the softest kiss on his cheeks as if you’re muttering the sweetest confession. he feels the love he has for you overflow, it’s so much, so deep, it scares him. he knows it will drown him, he knows he will let it.
“wash up,” another kiss pressed against his cheeks, he nods slightly against your neck. “let’s go to bed,”
“if you keep using this perfume,” his hands fiddle with the hem of your dress, fingers slowly sliding under as he paints invisible patterns over your skin, now looking at you with the same half drunk expression in his eyes, not sure if it’s from love or alcohol. “i might not be able to stop myself from kissing you,”
and his gaze puts you in a light trance, unable to move or respond, far too spell bound by his voice that nothing else seems sensible enough. your eyes settle on his lips and he gets the hint, leaning in once again, an action, this time, mirrored by you as you whisper against his lips. “then i’ll make sure to wear it every day,”
his lips taste of love. a bit bitter, half chapped yet still so soft as they move against yours. you feel the slightest of beer on your tongue, the air smells of the bergamot in your perfume, accompanied by amber. it smells of alcohol as he pressed himself against yours, the feeling just as intoxicating as the drink he had. it smells of him and you,
and it smells of love. 
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catsushizz · 5 months
Text
My Belle - S.R
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Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
Warning: fluff at first then just angst, death, grief, major character death (do tell me if I miss something)
Summary: Spencer loves you like it was breathing but what would he do when that source of oxygen is gone?
a/n: first time writing Spencer, I'm a sucker for the angst I hope you like it!
---
Look how she lights up the sky...
Spencer heard it from a mile away which brought a small smile to his lips, he heard footsteps which isn't surprising that he knew it was yours because of the skip of your steps and that melody you kept humming.
He heard you open the door still humming the song as you took off your shoes. "Hey, Angel," he says lovingly as he greets you by the door.
You smile and kiss him on the cheek "Hello Dr. Handsome" he chuckled at the endearment and engulfed you in a tight hug.
You have been dating for 3 months and Spencer knew he was going too fast by telling you to share an apartment with him but that lingering doubt quickly disappeared as fast as it came when you suggested it yourself.
Spencer knew you were it for him. He knows your favorite movies to your favorite songs he knows almost everything about you actually.
You hummed the song and dragged Spencer to the living room "What got you in such a good mood?" Spencer chuckled.
"Having you all by myself today" you grinned, resting both of your hands on his shoulder. Spencer couldn't stop smiling, he was looking at you fondly, his hand on your waist as if it was meant to be there.
"Let's dance" you whispered, nuzzling your head to his chest "Explain how we are gonna dance with no music-"
"So far above me yet I...know his heart belongs to only me" You smile as you sing the song, you love changing the lyrics, Spencer specifically loves it when you change Evangeline to his name he remembered hearing it for the first time and he couldn't stop thinking about it for months.
"Je t'adore, Je t'aime Spencer" You chuckled at how off-key it was but it didn't matter when you saw that sweet smile of his. You started guiding him to move, your head resting near his heart and his finger stroking circles on your waist as he held you closer. Loving you was something he wished he had done a long time ago, he wished that he was there your whole life.
It became a routine, you dancing with him.
After a bad case, you'd sing for him, and if he was feeling down you'd urge him to stand and dance with him and that always made him forget why he was sad in the first place. He would never get tired of that song or your voice. Whenever you fight it always ends up with both of you in each other's arms and in tangled bed sheets in the morning.
3 months turned into a year and a year turned into 4 years and now you're engaged, his love never withered and neither did yours.
his team always asked him how he got so lucky he didn't know the answer to that and he just thanked whatever God that brought you to him.
But the gods were cruel. They give and they take.
He visited your grave every day with fresh flowers in his hands but they always ended up disheveled from how tight he was holding them. Everything changed after you left, he changed and he no longer rambled about his fun facts to the team, in fact, they hadn't heard him laugh or smile in a while.
He'd get snappy with them whenever they asked a simple question, his state wasn't any better too, he looked as if he needed to seek professional help.
"Spence?" JJ knocked on his apartment door but received no answer, she was about to try again but the door swung open. Spencer stood there annoyed and a frown displayed on his lips.
"What?" He asked, he didn't mean to sound so harsh but he was just having a hard time, he had a nightmare again, usually, it was you who would coax him until he calmed down but you were gone and it was a painful reminder every time he wakes up from a bad dream, he would much rather prefer to be stuck in that dream than face the truth.
"can I come in?" JJ's voice is gentle that was something he came to despise, everyone has been walking on eggshells whenever he's around and he hates it because it just makes him remember that you were gone.
Spencer let her in reluctantly, JJ's gaze darted everywhere in his apartment, it was a mess. She looked at Spencer with worry, a question hanging from the tip of her tongue.
As if sensing it, Spencer sighed and massaged his temple "No, I'm not using Dilaudid" he said harshly.
"That was not what I was gonna say-"
"Why are you here?" For the first time since she came in, he looked her in the eye. She freezes, she did not think this through.
"Spence, I know it has been hard for you, just let me help you- let us help you," she said with a hint of urgency in her voice.
Spencer clicked his tongue "I don't need help, get out" he calmly said but the way he said it begged to differ.
"I said get out!" He snapped making JJ flinch, she had never seen Spencer act like this but instead of backing out, she fought back.
"I know this is hard for you Spencer but didn't you stop and think that the whole team not only felt guilty because they couldn't save her but they lost her too? She was like family to them." She was crying now. Spencer was about to retort that they didn't know her like he did but she stopped him.
"I know she was your fiancé, Reid, but she was my sister, and losing her meant losing half of me so don't act like you're the only one grieving because we all are, let us help you and we can fix this, it might take a long- long time but let us do it together" she pleaded and fresh tears started to flow from Spencer's eyes.
It was quiet for a while nothing but broken sobs from both of them.
"I- I can't remember her voice" Spencer's voice trembled, his hands shaking making JJ engulf him in a hug. He held her tightly, his tears staining her clothes "I can't remember her voice" he repeated again like a broken record.
"shh, it's okay" JJ coed.
"I couldn't save her, I promised her I would protect her, s-she trusted me to protect her" he stutters, his breathing becoming labored "I don't know what to do, I love her too much to let her go"
"I know" JJ's voice broke. She remembered the night vividly, the night she lost you, she remembered how nothing could calm Spencer down, and she remembered how he cradled your blooded form from the comfort of your own bed, his sobbed mix with his overwhelming fast breathing, it tore her to shreds.
When you were at the hospital, she remembered the whole team was there, she remembered how Spencer couldn't sit still and how he had been crying for hours but when the doctor dropped the dreaded news, she could feel Spencer's heart drop, how his eyes became void of any emotions in just a second.
He dropped to the floor with his hand gripping his shirt near his heart where your head always rests when you're slow dancing, just remembering that made him let out a gut-wrenching cry, his shoulder shaking as he kept repeating the word 'no' over and over again.
When he felt like he couldn't breathe Morgan coaxed him to breathe with him but nothing could work. Losing someone special is like losing your purpose to function and having you gone was something he didn't realize he'd had to face.
--
"I have- uhm, I have a video of her," JJ said, pulling out a disc from her bag. Spencer had now calmed down, and seeing the disc from JJ's hand brought him an unfamiliar surge of emotions.
"She loved recording herself talking and singing, and she mentioned you here more than I can count" she chuckled holding back herself from crying.
She handed Spencer the disc with a tight-lipped smile "I'm gonna give you some privacy" she said taping his shoulder as she made her way out of his apartment.
Spencer didn't say anything nor did he move from his spot on the couch. The disc on his hand felt heavy as he stared at it.
He's scared, he's scared that maybe if he plays this video he won't ever move on and fall into a cycle where he can't stop watching the video for fear of forgetting your face and your voice.
He didn't even realize he had played the disc until he saw you and heard your voice in the video and when he heard it, it brought a new batch of tears pouring out from his eyes.
"Oh hi! Shit, how does this thing work?" You mumbled as you adjusted the camera. "JJ? Is this thing broken or am I just tweaking?" You called out, Spencer saw the camera shift to JJ her face contoured with annoyance.
"you're holding it wrong-" The video ended and for a few seconds it came back again but this time he was met with your beaming smile. Spencer choked on his tears, his heart clenching seeing your infectious smile.
"I met a guy" you giggled making Spencer smile despite the tears flowing down his cheeks "I'm gonna marry him someday, I just know it. He's my sister's colleague, he's smart and extremely handsome, and he likes reading as well, can you believe that?" You exhaled a disbelief sigh.
Hearing that brought a wave of nausea in his system, you never got to marry him.
The video then showed JJ looking at the camera with Emily on her side as JJ tells Emily to be quiet, and then the camera shifts to you and Spencer.
He remembers this, this was 2 years ago on New Year's Day, the both of you were at Rossi's mansion but decided to come out to have the time for both of yourselves.
You were singing but it was muffled because the camera was too far away "Move closer!" He heard Emily whisper "I can't, they'll see us" JJ rebutted but Emily grabbed the camera and the sound of her running with the camera violently shaking from her grasp made him chuckle.
He heard you clearly now, he had never been so thankful for Emily. You were humming and in between the humming, you told him that you love him and Spencer had to pause the video because he was having a hard time breathing again. He didn't finish the video and he fell asleep crying.
Spencer thinks he can't ever forget you, even if he settles down with someone else (which he doubts) he knows he can't ever forget you because loving you was different, different in a way where you'll yearn for it your entire life.
And when he played the tape again, the fleeting moment in which he genuinely smiles is then replaced by him crying again whenever you mention how much you really loved him.
Nothing feels light in grieving and when time passes it gets heavier it may be subtle but it's there. His future with you was forever gone in the wind, merely a whisper in his dreams and his heart ached for your warmth to be back again.
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