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#as a side note this goes for self-talk too
fearful-quartet · 23 hours
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So I've been listening to The Magnus Protocol, and managed to get my dad into TMA last year so he's now listening to Mag Protocol too. So last night we were listening in the car to the latest statement, and I was half-jokingly saying which fear the statement sounded like mostly, to which my dad starts talking about how he doesn't think these statements and the O.A.I.R are connected to the Fears at all. I'm gonna try to put a cut for anyone not caught up but here's how this led to a theory of mine:
So Lena said to Gwen that there's good and bad forces that need to be balanced, but she never said which side of that the O.A.I.R. is part of, if any. I was noting this when it hit me.
Every single Magnus Protocol Statement so far has been about misfortune coming around due to perceived fortune or a fortunate opportunity becoming misfortune.
Let's break this down ep by ep so you see what I mean.
Episode One: It's a little hard to figure out what the fortune is to the misfortune, especially since it's mostly getting us used to the characters and the overall setup of the show, but for the first statement I think it's not the statement giver, but the husband. Harriet (the one emailing) says he sounded excited in an unsettling way (I am assuming the "he" she is talking about is her husband since she doesn't mention anyone else). When she meets him, or what has him, she describes that he laughed and laughed. Her misfortune was his fortune, his joy.
The second statement in that episode of course is about the Institute, but by way of a bunch of spelunkers looking for something intriguing to discuss. I haven't quite figured out the connection here but I am sure there is one, even if it's through the characters (aka Sam) finding something within it.
Two: A lot easier to connect to this. Daria is finding joy through getting this tattoo that allows her to change how she looks and alter her appearance immensely (and grotesquely). Enough said.
Three: This statement is one that overall I just don't understand tbh, but I think it shows the opposite? As in the victim is experiencing fear and discomfort the entire time, but towards the end you'll notice he gets much more happy and calm about the situation.
Four: This is again easy, it's about a violin that needs blood but will give you amazing talent if you pay that price, and horrible bloodshed if you don't. Self-explanatory.
Five: The guy is trying to make a living off watching and reviewing horror movies, gets excited at a live showing of one just for him, then realizes it's not what it seems and posts everyone should see it. Easy enough. (Very Grifter's Bone in energy)
Six: The introduction to infamous new tumblr sexyman, Needles. I shouldn't have to spell out how he gets pleasure from others in pain by needles.
Seven: All I gotta say is it's "all for a good cause" and you should get the picture.
Eight: Utilizes that uncanny fear of false hospitality if you ask me, but either way this statement is clearly taking something associated often as comforting and twisting it.
Nine: The dice literally affect fortune and misfortune and likely make the statement giver into the embodiment of fortune. 'Nuff said.
Ten: Bonzo needs no explanation for this in his introductory episode so let's move on.
Eleven: This one goes more into obsession territory than anything, which is another running theme of the show and another theory, but it also talks about how the sea brings comfort so that could be part of it. (Also I noticed the sneaky possibly Dr. David reference in there lol)
Twelve: Now I know what you're gonna say, "How is this one connected to fortune at all, Cal? It's about some woman being traumatized at a strip club!" Well think about this: what if it wasn't supposed to end in Bonzo? Gwen gave Bonzo an "assignment," didn't she? And Lena pretty much outright says that this statement was that assignment. So it's possible this is what happened after stopping the initial outcome.
Thirteen: The latest episode as of typing this, and the most clear with evidence. The man literally gains a fortune from his own misfortune, so ya know it's right there.
So every statement is a good thing turned bad or a bad thing turned good. So what? Magnus Archives had plenty of statements similarly framed, so why am I focusing on it here?
Because what is the tagline for Magnus Protocol again?
Fear takes many forms.
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ramshacklefey · 11 months
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When you want to dispel disinformation, focus on positives and shared values.
Part of the training for my new job (teaching sex ed to middle and high school students) included a short class on how to deal with disinformation. The class was taught by a woman who has spent her entire career doing PR work for political campaigns at high levels of government, and one of the things she had to say really stuck with me, because it's relevant to so many parts of my life:
If you're trying to correct a narrative or fight disinformation, you have to focus on positive information and the values you share with other people.
Why is this so important? Well, it turns out that human brains do a funny thing when you present them with a negative statement: they remember all the words except the "not." This means that if you show up and tell someone, "Trans women are not predators," the things their brain is going to hang onto from that is the association between the words "trans woman" and "predators." The "not" just gets tossed out. If you say, "Sex ed is not grooming," the association between "sex ed" and "grooming" sticks in their brain. The "not" goes away.
The same thing goes for any other disinformation you're trying to combat. You can write an entire essay telling someone why such-and-such is false, but what they're going to come away remembering is all the claims you told them were false, rather than the fact that they're false.
So, what to do instead?
Focus on presenting the right information. "Sex ed helps kids stay safe and gives them the language they need to communicate to trusted adults if something bad is happening," is an effective statement. It gives a person's brain a positive association to put with the concept "sex ed."
Look for opportunities for "Yes, and-" statements. Chances are, there are fundamental values that you and others agree on. You can build from these fundamental values! If someone says they want to protect children, you can say, "Yes, me too! And that's why I want them to have access to accurate information."
Related to this: telling people that they are being disingenuous about their values is never going to help. You may be able to see clearly that there's a contradiction between the values someone expresses and the policies they advocate for or the actions they take. But their beliefs are probably in earnest. By focusing on "Yes, and-" statements, you show them that you agree with their fundamental beliefs. You've just got a different way of acting on them. They may not immediately change their mind, but it opens the door for them to see another way of acting on their convictions.
Remember that most people who believe disinformation campaigns are being misled by a vicious minority with a specific agenda. There are a small number of conservative groups who are desperately trying to hang on to power. Most people disagree with them, but these groups are working hard to make it seem like that's not the case. By dispersing fear and disinformation widely, they create an atmosphere in which their accusations and lies seem to be coming from everywhere.
Spread the truth about what most people believe. 98% of Americans are in favor of sex ed being taught in schools. The majority of Americans support abortion rights, queer rights, etc. Spreading these facts helps make it more obvious that disinformation is coming from a small, but vocal, number of voices, and there isn't a mass consensus about it. Realizing where these lies are coming from helps people start questioning the motives of those who are spreading it.
If you find good infographics about these topics, ones that follow the suggestions above, save them! When you see disinformation being spread on social media, rather than needing to type out an entire reply, just post the infographic. People are more likely to see it and retain that information than they are to read a long essay anyway.
Post and share positive information. People need to see positive information being shared actively! You don't even need to connect that information to the lies you've seen. Just say the truth.
I hope that this helps any of you who are out there struggling with how to handle all of this shit going on. I love you all.
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hopeinthebox · 2 years
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on repeat songs tag game
i was tagged by the incredible @hobis-suga the wonderful @everythinqoes & the marvellous @taechnological to post my on repeat playlist <33 thank you my darlings!! here she is:
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better late than never, right? anyway stream MORE by j-hope if you get the chance. sound of the summer.
i'm tagging some angels @myork @mochiofbusan @dinamitae @thvinyl @minsugasuga @jiminsproof @cordiallyfuturedwight feel free to ignore completely and if you've already done it I'M SORRY but also please send it to me <33
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chuluoyi · 16 days
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✎ heaven's fury
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- gojo satoru x reader
sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again
genre: angry!gojo, a bit of hurt with looots of comfort and fluff !! it’s self-indulgent too🤭
note: i knooow i said i'll post gojo angst next, but i forgot i have this in backburner too so... this hurt/comfort goes first :') based on an anon's request. loosely takes place after baby!
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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“Sukuna's vessel is a threat— he must be executed as soon as possible!”
“The more we put this off, the greater the risk he poses to society!”
“Gojo, you can't delay his sentence any longer—!”
Weak. All of them. They always make excuses. Trying to pin blame on someone else.
The jujutsu world he lives in… is wretched. Gojo Satoru thought he knew that well already, or at least knew enough to not get riled up over it.
Apparently not.
“Gojo-sensei? You look scary...”
Typically, he would mask his clear disdain with sharp-witted jibes, but he reached his limit this time. Especially since they had been pressuring him relentlessly to execute Itadori Yuji for at least five times a week, each week.
. . .
“Satoru, oh, you're home already!”
At the end of it all, he went home with the worst of moods. It served as a reminder—of his deep-seated contempt for weakness and how burdensome he found the task of protecting the insufferable to be.
“Satoru...?”
And it's because of their weakness that Suguru—
“Satoru, are you—?”
“Just fucking shut it!”
And that was when he saw you, standing before him with wide eyes, cradling your—his—precious baby in your arms, who was sound asleep.
“Huh…?”
Satoru immediately tensed up, realizing his mistake. And what hit him even harder was— is that a flicker of hurt he saw flashing across your face?
If so, then you quickly blinked it away because in the next instant, your face lit up with a warm smile— kind of forced, to his dismay. “Welcome home, Satoru.”
Something inside him churned, his heart started to ache, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth then.
There you were, as accepting as ever, and he cherished you for it.
But not tonight. Not for this. You didn't deserve any of his misplaced resentment.
Damn it. Damn it all!
In response, he offered you a subtle nod and headed to the bathroom, thinking a shower might help clear his foul mood away.
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Contrary to what Satoru might think, you didn't really hold anything against him.
You were surprised, yes, because he was usually such a ball of energy even when he got back from intercity missions, but more than the hurt, you would understand if now, he was pissed some way or another.
Your husband is still a human. He is entitled to be upset on some days.
After ensuring your son was comfortably asleep in his cot, you returned to your bedroom to find Satoru already in bed, facing away from you. Hmph... now that you thought about it, this silence between you was unacceptable.
“Satoru.” You poked his side, but he didn't budge and still had his eyes shut. You arched an eyebrow. “Satoru? You can't be asleep.”
“…” No answer. Okay, let's try something else.
“Honey, talk to me? Hmm?” you decided to swallow the heat on your face as you addressed him more intimately. Mind you, you didn't usually call him that. He was the one in charge of pet names.
“…” This shithead. That's it.
“Satoru, my tummy hurts—”
“What?” In an instant, he flipped over, abruptly sitting up. “What hurts—”
Seizing the opportunity, you tugged him by the neck, and both of you tumbled onto the bed, with him landing on top of you. Satoru instinctively held himself up and cushioned the back of your head with his hand so you wouldn’t crash into the headboard—his blue eyes wildly flickering, searching for any sign of discomfort or harm.
“You good?” he made a face upon realizing your ruse.
“You won’t talk to me otherwise,” you noted with a hint of annoyance. But then your eyes softened into a concerned frown. “Satoru… what’s wrong?”
Once again, Satoru felt hollow. You were worried and it reached him. “It’s nothing,” he replied, looking away, trying to downplay his fury.
You pulled him close, his head against your chest, and though he was stiff and taken aback at first, he released a reluctant sigh and instinctively snuggled closer, finding comfort in your embrace.
“There, there…” you soothed with a smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Feel better now?”
He let out another sigh against you, returning the hug and nuzzling his face against your chest. His body heat enveloped you like a blanket.
And after a while...
“...’m sorry for yelling at you...” he muttered with such regret it made your eyes widen. “Didn’t mean it.”
The slight prickle in your heart dissipated at once, hearing his muffled voice.
“Mm-hmm, I know.”
“Really.”
“Mmm, really, really.”
He held you a little tighter, breathing in your scent, and you kept stroking his head. He looked so despondent it warmed your heart, and made you want to pet him. “Our baby loves being held like this too,” you giggled fondly. “You big baby… you’re just like him.”
Your husband let out a soft grunt against your chest, exhaling deeply.
“Whenever you’re ready, talk to me, yes?”
And so after several more pats on his head, Satoru finally told you everything, about how the higher-ups were relentlessly pressing him to put an end to Yuji, the new kid he recently enrolled to the jujutsu school.
“They're just some paranoid old fools—”
“Mm-hmm.”
“—stinky, cringey, looks depressed most of the time—”
“Heh— now that's just plain disrespect.”
“Yuji is just clueless and just has a lot to learn,” Satoru grumbled sullenly. “They didn't even teach him a thing and incapable to— how dare they? To keep him ignorant and then murder him?”
...oh.
And at that moment, you found clarity. Why he got so worked up, why he got irate this time whereas he was usually insensitive.
First, it was because of your tragic youth. No one protected Haibara from his unfortunate incident and was there for Geto when he needed it the most—which still haunted him to this day.
And secondly, because he himself is a father too. No one deserves their youth being taken away. That has been his moral compass, and the sense grows even stronger ever since the baby was born.
It made something inside you flutter.
“Satoru...” you breathed out, smiling, squeezing him affectionately. “You’re ... a kind person.”
“Huh?”
“You take it upon yourself to mentor those kids,” you mused. “Just look at Megumi and Yuta; they've turned out just fine.”
Truthfully, Satoru didn't consider himself as kind as you made him out to be. At times he felt like he was doing it because it was right, sometimes he thought it was for fun, and at other times, he simply didn't feel like seeing more deaths or wrong paths. And he was sure if you had asked Megumi whether he was a good teacher or not, the grumpy boy would only roll his eyes.
But then, just as he looked up at you, the prettiest smile blossomed on your face, and you said to him—
“And as your wife, I’m... proud of you.”
The way you sincerely told him that made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart pound a little faster.
The woman who has become his everything. This unabashed, pure love you show him.
“Sweets, I—” he suddenly rose, back to on top of you. But his voice faltered, remembering the way he coldly snapped at you earlier. “I...”
You looked up at him innocently. And he swallowed the shame because he had to tell you too.
Because you were so, so incredibly precious to him, and he wanted you to know that.
“…love you,” he mumbled, his beautiful eyes meeting yours with no hesitation. His cheeks were burning, tinted with a shade of pink—and you out of all people knew best that him being embarrassed meant as good as him not being horny—
But before you could point it out, he leaned down towards you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. There was no trace of the man who was hungry for your body— it was just a long, chaste kiss that contained his feelings for you.
And when he pulled back, both of you were panting slightly, trying to catch your breath. Then, he pursed his lips, his eyes glittery—somehow reminding you of your baby's face just before he cried out for his milk.
“I wanna pay for my sin. Wanna cuddle you too.”
And so you let him. He held you close, his arm under your head and you traced lazy lines on his chest, feeling contented and somewhat giddy.
“You feel that bad, huh?” you chuckled, noticing his continued gloominess.
“I am,” he puffed out his cheeks before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Because if anyone else dares to tell you off like that, I'll wreck them on the spot.”
“Hmm, how romantic. But come to think about it... you did look a little scary though...”
At that moment, he felt his heart drop, his eyes instantly rounded in alarm, looking at you with dismay.
“No, no, I'm not scary! Wifey, I'm your devoted and loving husband!”
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Epilogue
Your morning started with your baby's cries. When you glanced over, Satoru was gone from your bed already. Curious, you made your way to the baby's room, and what you saw there caused you to raise an eyebrow.
"Satoru... what are you...?"
He turned to you with an expression so heartbroken as he rocked his wailing baby. "He keeps crying, I don't know why..."
However, your attention was drawn more to his disheveled appearance. Messy hair, slitted eyes as if he hadn't brushed off sleep, and most of all, the dark eyebags under his eyes.
"Uh, Satoru... give him to me."
When he did, your baby calmed down almost instantly, his sobs turning into light sniffles, and your husband could only scratch his head in confusion.
"Why...? When I tried to look at him, he cried even harder—"
"...no offense, but if I were a baby and someone who looks like a panda holds me up, I'd get scared and cry too."
Satoru let out a theatrical gasp, clutching his chest as he hovered your baby—
"Nooo! Papa didn't mean to scare you—!"
...but to his horror, your baby turned away from him, hiding his face in your chest instead.
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nicoliine · 3 months
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About the times when Alastor touched you and when he expected you to do it back.
☆彡 How in the world does the radio demon, who doesn't really like physical contact, end up looking for any excuse to have his hands on you?
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 ☆ Reader is g/n; no pronouns or y/n are used.
☆ Warnings: not really. Does a mental breakdown count as a warning? Alastor is a warning itself yk.
☆ English isn't my first language, so if there's any mistake I sorry-
 
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You noticed that Alastor didn't like people's proximity when you first arrived at the hotel and he didn't even try to shake your hand. There, with your hand on the air, you stand waiting for his shake as you observe his ramblings about a whole different subject—not that you mind about all the weird souls that can be met in hell—watching him around the other hotel staff, you confirm it.
 
After a couple of days in the hotel and witnessing his power display, you made a mental note to not mess with him. That being said, you didn't really want to touch him.
You were a very touchy person, content to hug Pentious when you first saw him around in the morning or cuddle on the couch with Angel before he started to make a lewd comment about his job and you just ended up leaving him alone. Nifty seemed to enjoy being all over you, sitting on your shoulders while you were reading or just playing with your hair.
 
Another one who was happy about your touchy personality was Charlie, but she is just happy about everything.
 ☆◦•◦☆
It started a month from your arrival.
Alastor, being a self-proclaimed gentleman, didn't seem to be aware of your not touching Alastor rule, he started holding the door open for you then creating a shadow to lift up that heavy box that you needed to move, and you ended up—it was hard for you—just trying to move up your body away so you didn't end up too close to him, but he seemed to love your personal space so much.
 
One time, you were in the hallway, not really aware of your surroundings, until you felt an arm around your shoulders. When you heard his static voice, you froze on your steps, slowly turning your head to see him there, standing with that so-known smile of his. When he started to walk, still holding you, talking about that great idea for the hotel, you just couldn't pay so much attention. Your mind is running on thoughts about his proximity.
This wasn't the only time he ended up having you close to him; being honest, it seems to have a personal liking to your presence. You doubt he was like that before your arrival (as you already spoke with Charlie about it), but he could be found anywhere you were. If you ended up helping fix the balcony fence, he was there behind you—you're glad he's at least silent—or when you are in the bar just scrolling through your phone and he is watching you from the other side of the room, not wanting to be near your technology artifacts, is he just trying to drive you mad? Even though that look of his seems to be asking for something you don't know, you won't ask what it is. Just wait to see how it goes.
 
His touch soon became more frequent. You often end up with your own theory that it's something involuntary, like something he doesn't even notice by the way it feels, like deep in the end he just wants to be touched but don't know how to ask for it. But with that demon, nothing is sure; everything he does used to be planned. That's why you found yourself confused and don't want to test your luck.
 
When you are in the lobby in the middle of one of Charlie's activities and his arm ends up holding you by his side.
Or when he just kisses the back of your hand every time you first see him in the morning and every time he leaves, no exceptions, that confusing look of his is always there.
Just about that, your hands—he often takes your hands. While you are in the kitchen and waiting for the pasta on the stove, one of your hands is resting on the counter as you hold a recipe book, reading the next steps. He's by your side the whole time; one of his hands takes your free hand, making you pause your reading and look at him in surprise for the sudden action. He says nothing, and both of you are standing there in silence until you have to go back to cook. However, he doesn't seem to want to let you go yet because he will follow you as you move around the kitchen.
 
From them, it seems that everyone is aware of this weird Alastor thing.
Nobody talks about it though—you are surprised as they have stayed out of the subject, just making silent bets about the cause of this behavior of his—but you know it wouldn't take long for someone to talk about it.
 
 ☆◦•◦☆
The last time he put his hands on you, you were scared. So much has passed since the last time you felt this way. Anxious and terrified, everything around you was spinning; you had to run away from the hotel activities all day.
When Alastor found you in your room, you were a mess, all your stuff scattered around the room. You saw him from your seat in a corner on the other side of the room; the only candle in the nightstand seemed to be dead soon. He just stood there in front of you; you didn't even try to look up at him, just his shoes. You can tell so much about someone else by his shoes; his shoes seemed almost perfectly clean even after destroying his enemies. He's such a collected person that it scares you.
 
"Why, dear, would you look at me?" Alastor surely doesn't enjoy being ignored; you know that. You just couldn't find the strength to move when he spoke to you. It passed almost 5 minutes before you turned your head up, and he was so patient with you the whole time. "What is that troubling your mind, dear?"
 
You didn't respond right away; you're not sure how much time passed until you did it.
 
"It's just... everything." Your hands run around your face as you try not to have an attack right away in front of him. "I'm so scared, Alastor."
 
He just smiled; nothing was said; he didn't even try to touch your shoulder or hold you; he just smiled with that now so common smile of his, —you could swear it was the biggest smile you had seen on his face —one of his arms extended to you.
You have no idea why you did what you did; maybe he asked you directly, or you imagined it all, or his eyes showed what he wanted, or the candle in your room was one of Angel's drugs, or you just simply had a death wish. You don't know.
But you hugged him—just a hug—so hard that you could break his bones. When you took conscience about what you were doing, you tried to back down, not knowing how he could react to your contact.
But he didn't let you; his arm took you by the waist, and his staff was forgotten on the ground when he held your head against his shoulder.
 
You now understand why he always touched you. While you hands grabbed fists of his coat, he held you so tight, like it wasn't enough, and you just needed to be closer to him forever; he didn't want anything else.
So he did, he didn't let you go for a single moment that night; even when you were in bed, he held your hand the whole time. He just let you go the next morning when Vaggie insisted he needed to go do his job, even so he wouldn't forget to kiss your hand before he left. The ghost of his touch accompanied you all the time; it was like your body grew so used to his presence and his touch that you could feel it as a part of you.
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Touch Starved! Alastor folks!!! Alastor is such an interesting character to write! I want ro respect him so bad.
Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞
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atrirose · 7 months
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⌅ HOT THINGS ENHA MEMBERS DO
bf!enha x f!r 샌 warning. none + fluff 🐰 seiu notes : and award for being the most inactive when i promised to be actives goes to seiu tada (revamping)
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HEESEUNG : calls you good girl, this man he plays those dangerous games, he knows what that phase does to you, how red you get or how you words start to jumble up but does that stop him from not calling you this at least in public? no it doesn’t “have a bite” he said as he bought cake near your mouth “like it?” heeseung said as he wiped the excess cake from your lips, you nod not expecting what came next “good girl” RAGH STOP THIS MAN I WILL COME FROM HIM
JAY : leaning over to buckle your seat belt, here is the thing, his car, it’s expensive and the feeling you get after sitting in a clean expensive car with a hot man that is supposedly your boyfriend (if he was my boyfriend i would have a crush on him even whilst dating him) so when leans in to buckle your belt which you on purpose didn’t buckle, he smiles and the chic perfume hit your nose as he spoke in a low octave “ready to go?”
JAKE : zipping your jacket, the poor boy cares about you and he genuinely thinks you can’t zip it on your own like before you go out he needs to check if you have your phone with you, your wallet (he is paying of course, yours is for show), house keys and OH the most important, your jacket, will zip it and then hug you like a big polar bear “let’s go! this time i will drive” jake unlocked the car “you drove last time too jake” he said smiling “yeah? i don’t remember”
SUNGHOON : very evident that he loves your hair, he loves to try new hairstyles on you but most importantly he brushes your hair off your face when he is listening to like a love sick boy, nods and hums, most of the time sings as he try to braid your hair, most of the time it’s not so great and if you went out with it people might thing you just got out of a fight but hey it’s the thought that count, poor baby tries his best :( “i think it’s good this time” sunghoon said as you opened your eyes, it wasn’t the best hairstyle ever but for you it was special.
SUNOO : sunshine loves to tie your shoes for you, but he acts like he is 50 and bending to tie the shoe is like breaking his hips “yn you are so lazy ugh” sunoo says as he bends down for the 5th today to tie your shoes, he loves it okay don’t let him fool you, he even untie it on purpose and doesn’t let you do it because ‘apparently you don’t know how to and would break your face after falling’.
JUNGWON : holding your hands while crossing the road or pulls you so he is at the outer side while walking. looks left and right, subconsciously always reaches out for your arms so he can pull you just in case a truck hits you. “yn follow me closely” he tugs on your sleeves as you cross the road with him “yeah yeah wonie”.
NIKI : lifting chin or moving it to talk to him or opening your drinks for you. he could be talking to anyone or just watching TV but it’s his job as self proclaimed man of the relationship to open you can or any drink you have in your hand, and WHEN I TELL YOU this man makes you face him when you guys are talking?!, he would literally grab your chin and make you look at him or look up to him because you know how tall he smh 😀. “i like it when you look at me when you talk” loves eye contact with you and will smirk at how flustered you are “hmm you are bright red” he said as he lightly strokes your cheeks
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norrizzandpia · 28 days
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So American (OB38)
Summary: To the song So American by Olivia Rodrigo. In which a Brit and an American fall so deeply in love with each other.
Warnings: suggestive scenes, language, so much fluff omg, reader is from America (specifically California), reader wants to be a writer and loves Jane Austen, reader loves London, idk if you can tell yet but this is HEAVILY indulgent, reader goes to University of San Francisco (that part is not self indulgent lol)
Note: I couldn’t help myself ive had this idea for too long, my debut Ollie Bearman fic! I hope you like it because i do 🤭
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Eighteen and baby-faced, Y/n thought her trip to London with her best friends would be fun and outrageous. She expected when they touched down in Heathrow that the trip would bring countless amounts of unique memories. It was part of their celebration of completion in their first year in college, a week-long trip to one of their favorite places to welcome the desperately needed summer.
None of them expected for Y/n to slam into a tall body when they were running to a musical before the doors closed and none of them expected that tall body to be that of another eighteen year old who found the short, American girl too cute to tear his eyes away from.
Ollie hadn’t been expecting much when he decided to take a day trip into London, wanting to spend the day wandering around one of his favorite cities. Though, when his eyes graced him the vision of y/h/c hair and a flushed girl frazzled in front of him, he knew it would be one to remember.
She was short, almost too short as his neck craned down to meet her eyes and the two murmured out apologies as he knelt down to pick up her bag that had dropped when they both rounded the same corner too fast.
Her ID slipped out, California’s name in bold letters right at the top and made Ollie laugh.
”American?” He smiled as Y/n’s friends glanced at each other from the side.
Y/n grinned, “Yep, American.”
Part of him knew getting into business with someone who lived on another continent couldn’t be smart, but he couldn’t bear to think of not seeing her again. Her beauty struck him and there were no thoughts in his mind when he asked for her number when she mumbled something about having to leave.
Y/n’s wide eyes turned around to meet his once more, “My number?”
Ollie nodded, his hand in his pocket and clutching his phone, “Your number.”
Her friends behind her giggled before shoving her toward the British boy who they had no idea was not your average or normal eighteen year old. Y/n took his phone lightly and pressed the correct digits. When she returned it, her name staring back at him, he blushed, “Y/n. That’s cute.”
Her cheeks warmed just like his as her friends began tugging on her hand and yelling about making the showtime, “What’s your name?!” She yelled as they dragged her away.
He waved with a beam, “Ollie!”
Ollie. That’s cute.
That summer, Y/n never went back to California. The moment she began talking with Ollie and he began taking her out on dates before she was supposed to leave, she knew there would be no way she could leave him. She canceled her flight back after Ollie had begged her to stay, and told her friends they needed to go back without her, that there was something more she needed to explore in London.
The girls had anticipated it, honestly. When they had seen the dazed grin on their friend’s face every time she came back from seeing the boy, they knew there was not enough willpower to hold her back from changing plans.
She would come back for the next school year, but it was clear if things went well, which they seemed they would be, she would stay for the summer.
And that she did.
Ollie forced her around all of England, showing her his favorite nooks and crannies of the country he grew up in. They would spend hours in his car as he drove her around, to the end of the country and back, just so she could experience his favorite view too. Their moments spent together forced the two to get to know each other wholly. Y/n found out about his racing career, gaped at him when he mentioned his Formula 1 race, and Ollie found out about her mundane life as a student at University of San Francisco. Honestly, he loved how regular she was. He craved her stories of college parties and nights spent up until three AM trying to turn in a paper. He loved her life stories. She loved his. They made for a good duo.
When the end of the two months drew near, tears were shed and words of distance were stressed. As they stood at the entrance to Heathrow, Ollie held Y/n in his arms and promised to find another time for her to come visit him, or one where he would come visit her. He was insistent and while they wouldn’t say it then, they were already in love.
That proved true a few months later, after calls and texts back and forth, when Y/n turned up at Heathrow once more. She was on Christmas break, one that granted her time to see her boyfriend, and while her family had been supportive of her skipping the holiday to go see someone that clearly made her so happy, she still felt a bit guilty to cancel. Though, that feeling diminished when she descended down the escalator and found Ollie holding a large sign with her name on it in pinks and greens, a large smile on his face as she yelped out and sprinted toward him.
“OLLIE!” Her bags dropped and she flew into his arms as he yelled her name back, the sign he had worked so hard on thrown to the floor the moment she got close.
He kissed her cheek and the two were looked upon adoringly by bystanders in the airport as he gently set her down on the ground, kissing her softly and whispering how much he had missed her.
When he led her out of the doors, all her belongings in his hands, they smiled brightly at each other as if to confirm how much they would make this month worth their while.
Drivin’ on the right-side road, he says I’m pretty wearin’ his clothes. And he's got hands that make hell seem cold. Feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem I wish I wrote. I wish I wrote.
Ollie clutched Y/n’s thigh as he drove to their favorite spot, one he had shown her during the summer. Her head lulled to the side, staring at him lightly and lovingly right when he glanced at her, his eyes roaming over her body.
Her eyebrows pulled together, “What?”
He smirked, “You look pretty wearing my clothes.” His fingers traced up her stomach to tug on his sweatshirt that adorned her upper body. The way it draped largely over her made his heart warm and how she had the hood pulled up over her messy hair made him want to pull the car over and kiss her silly.
She looked cozy. Cozy enough that his hand traveled under the material to rest around her waist. His warm hands made her feel more sleepy, the clock in the car reading a time too early, as she cuddled further into herself. Ollie noticed the yawn that drew from her and smiled to himself, his eyes averting back to the lonely road they were on.
“Can I put my feet on the dash?” She murmured, eyes closing and head tucking further into his sweatshirt.
Ollie patted her leg, “Sure, baby. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”
He turned the music down enough for her to find sleep again and when her phone pinged beside him, he glanced down randomly. His head had snapped back up before he could genuinely realize the notification he had seen. When it dawned on him what he might’ve seen, his eyes drifted down once more and tapped the screen to see it again.
A notification from In-n-Out stayed put on her screen and he stifled a laugh before whispering, “Oh, she’s so American.”
And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.
Ollie howled from laughter as Y/n giggled, her joke going over better than she expected. She knew it was funny, but she didn’t think the red in his face from not breathing was necessary. Still, she admired the way he admired her and went along with his hysterics. When his breathing regulated and his hunched over position came back to a seated one on the cold bench in Hyde Park, her stares were finally noticed by him.
”What?” He asked, arm wrapping around her shoulder as he shoved a piece of croissant in his mouth. He offered the last piece to Y/n and she took it, murmuring before putting it in her mouth, “Nothing. You just think I’m funny.”
Ollie’s eyebrows rose and he blew out a breath, “I think you’re hilarious.”
”I wonder how much you’ll laugh with me when you’re wasted.” Y/n’s head cocked to the side as she lost herself to thoughts.
Ollie giggled, “Probably an annoying amount when I’m pissed.”
Y/n’s jaw dropped in horror, “Not when you’re pissed! Don’t pee yourself!”
The couple turned to each other in confusion, Ollie fully taken aback, “Who said anything about peeing themselves?!”
Y/n jabbed a finger into his chest, “You did!”
Ollie pushed her softly, his hand on her waist drawing her back to him, “No, I didn’t!”
Her head fell into his chest in a fit of laughter, “Yes! I was talking about getting drunk and then you just brought up pissing yourself!”
In a moment of realization, Ollie found himself howling with laughter again. His hands clutched her frozen ones in the midst of winter before he got out, “It means the same thing! Wasted and pissed! Drunk!”
Her mouth fell open as she began to understand. Then, she pulled a face, “Why would you British people say pissed? That’s weird.”
Ollie gasped with a smile, “Hey! Don’t be rude.”
She crossed her arms, “You’re the one that insinuated peeing yourself.”
Ollie groaned and scrambled from the seat, running away from her with loud laughter, “Get away from me, American!”
She got up, rushing after him, with strangers giving them questionable looks as they began running through the bushes and trees of Hyde Park,
As she followed after him, his smile getting caught in her mind, she realized she had never felt this way about anyone. Sure, she had had guys in the past, but none of them compared to Ollie. The time they spent together, whether over the phone or in the actual presence of the other, always left her with a fuzzy feeling. A fuzzy feeling she always wanted to feel. The idea of forever was premature, but she was beginning to believe she was in love with the boy running away from her and jokingly berating her for being American. If she was in love, why not entertain the idea of marriage in her daydreams?
When she reached him, falling into his arms roughly with continued giggles, he leaned in and kissed her softly. The look in Ollie’s eyes when he pulled back made her think he might just be in love with her too.
Maybe they could entertain the idea of marriage in their daydreams together.
God, I’m so boring and I’m so rude. Can’t have a conversation if it’s not all about you; the way you dress and the books you read. I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he’s with me, when he’s with me.
Y/n brushed her teeth in the white of Ollie’s bathroom, his parents having generously let her stay in their home during her stay for Christmas. Her best friend, Charlotte, stared back at her from the phone. Their FaceTime had just started and Y/n hadn’t waited to say any greetings before jumping into rambling about Ollie.
”Charlotte, I’m so obsessed with him. I think it’s unhealthy.” She laughed, Charlotte laughing with her. Ollie eavesdropped on the other side of the door. “He’s so sweet and attentive. He remembers all the little things and even suggests things he thinks I’ll love. Which I always do. The other day, we were walking around Sussex and he saw this small book in a window and forced me into the shop. Turns out he had found a Jane Austen Pride and Prejudice First Edition. He told me he remembered how much I loved that movie and that storyline. He even referenced exact sentences that I had said in the midst of my rant about how much I love Jane Austen books. I looked at the price tag, holy shit, Char, it was so expensive. I made him leave the store immediately because the look on his face told me he needed no convincing in buying it for me. I thought I was in the clear, but apparently he’s friends with the owner of that store, so he went in early the morning after, while I was still asleep, and bought it for me. He surprised me with it along with breakfast in bed. I almost cried, Char. He’s even started reading it with me because he knows how much I love it.”
Charlotte’s eyes twinkled at the look on her friend’s face. Charlotte loved Ollie for the way he treated Y/n. “That is fucking insane. This man is in love with you, Y/n.”
Ollie’s heart exploded in his chest from the other side of the door. He had been caught.
Y/n’s whispering was loud enough for him to hear, “I think I’m in love with him too. I can’t get over his smile and his favorite pair of shoes that he most definitely needs to repurchase. I love his humor and how much he wants to make me happy. I love how he makes me feel so wanted and important. I love everything about him from his ratty Ferrari sweatshirt to the moles on his cheek.”
Ollie almost started giggling, jumping up and down like a schoolgirl, at her confession. He was ecstatic. This feeling was better than when he scored points in his first Formula 1 race. Yet, he didn’t want to let her know he knew yet. He wanted to plan something, something big that would show how serious he was about her.
The two friends hung up the phone after Y/n realized what time it was and rattled off to Charlotte about Ollie waiting for her in bed. Charlotte tried not to point out the suggestive nature of her statement, but she failed. “Use protection!” She yelped just as the phone hung up. Y/n stood in the threshold to Ollie’s bedroom, him staring back at her as the two took in Charlotte’s warning.
Ollie flopped down into the sheets, Y/n falling right into his arms. He kissed her neck and whispered, “She doesn’t need to worry. We will.”
They wouldn’t end up falling asleep until far into the night.
I apologize if it’s a little too much, just a little too soon, but if the conversation ever were to come up I don’t want to assume this stuff. But, ain’t it love? I think I’m in love.
Ollie couldn’t wait to tell her. Let her know that he felt the same way. And Y/n couldn’t wait to tell him about her most favorite idea, one she had come up in the wake of telling her best friend how much she loved her boyfriend. Neither of them knew the other had something so serious to discuss as they drove down the quiet street. Ollie had shoved her in the car, telling her he was taking her to a picnic under the stars. He threw his coat over her, taking his other for himself, and drove the few minutes before arriving at the open grass area near his house. He helped her out of the car, leading her to the trunk to get the box of food his mother had helped him make in preparation for this, and found a perfect spot with the clearest view of the sky.
The cold, winter air made them curl into each other, creating the perfect amount of warmth to stay. Y/n didn’t know how to breach her topic as they popped spoonfuls of soup into their mouths. Ollie beat her to it.
“Can I tell you something?” He whispered, finding her soft eyes.
She nodded, “Of course, baby.”
He sighed, putting his soup off to the side and trying to rid his body of unnecessary nerves. He knew she felt the same. Still, his hands shook slightly, not from the cold, “You have completely wrecked my life. You were so unexpected and not something I was ever anticipating, but I am so happy you fell into my life, Y/n. I will always look back on that moment at that random corner in London with so much love because…” He took a deep breath, “I love you and that was the start of you and me.”
Y/n’s face beamed and she set her soup down, throwing herself into Ollie. He fell backward, the two falling into a heap of limbs on the blanket below them. She kissed his face all over with sloppy, lovesick kisses, “Ollie! I love you too!”
He would never get over how her voice sounded whenever she said his name. Sure, she had said it in annoyed manners before when he had ticked her off, but, even then, he loved the way her accent sounded around the syllables. Never did he think he would be putting American accents first before British ones on his list of most beloved accents. Though, he was beginning to find that her smiling face was getting him to do a lot of crazy things lately. Like, buying a book worth thousands of dollars and reading it along with her. Chilling.
She tapped the back of his palms before tugging lightly on his fingers, “I have something to run past you.”
He nodded, pulling her between his legs and stroking her back. She let her legs wrap around his waist as they continued to sit on the blanket, “You know how much I want to be a writer? The reason why I’m studying English and everything?”
Ollie continued nodding, tilting his head as to tell her he had no clue where this was going.
She cleared it up quickly, however, when she nervously rambled, “What if I transferred to a UK university?”
Ollie’s heart almost flew from his chest, “Like, move here?”
She gave a small smile, “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always wanted to move here and study here. I love it here. But, now,” She kissed his lips, “I have more of a reason to. Would that be something you’d be okay with?”
He scoffed, “Would that be something I’d be okay with?! Fuck, yeah! Oh my God, Y/n, please move here. Holy shit, move here.” He begged with the cheekiest grin on his face.
She laughed, “Okay, okay. I still have to be accepted, but I have good chances with my grades and everything.”
Ollie shook her body lightly, “No, you’ll be accepted. If I start a manifestation journal specifically for this, would you judge me?”
Y/n cackled, “No, go right ahead. Tap into that spiritual force, Bearman.”
He kissed her hard, happy it seemed to work out for them. God, he wanted it to work out for them so bad.
And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.
ONE YEAR LATER
Y/n walked down the street to her dorm, a quizzical look etched into her face as she rounded the corner and ran into a hard body. Her eyes found his familiar ones from her position below him and his smile welcomed her home after a long day.
Ollie laughed, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”
She tucked herself under his arm as they began walking, “You just need to stop walking so fast.”
He laughed at her comment before leaning down and kissing her cheek, “How was your day?”
She groaned, “So long. English in a UK university is much more in depth than I was expecting. It puts American colleges to shame. Plus, for lunch, the waiter screwed up my order.”
Ollie frowned, “Oh, no. What’d they mess up?”
Y/n gave him a sad smile, “I asked for chips with my sandwich and they gave me French fries.”
There was silence before Ollie shook his head with a soft smile, “Baby, French fries are chips here.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, “What do you mean?”
He playfully rolled his eyes, “No one says French fries here. If you want that, it’s chips.”
She stood in front of him in a stance that suggested this was an outrage. He chuckled at her, “Then, what do I say if I want chips?!”
He pushed her hair away from her face lovingly, “Crisps, love.”
She huffed and turned away, walking down the sidewalk before he quickly caught up with her. She grumbled from under his arm, “You need to teach me these crazy discrepancies.”
Ollie nodded and kissed her hair, “It’s not my fault you’re so American, but sure, I will. We can start now.”
Apparently, that sufficed for her as she let out an agreeing noise, “Yeah, so where are we going for this date.”
He put his finger to his lips and shushed her, “No, it’s a surprise.”
Her mind loved the fact that he was so obsessed with planning their outings by himself. She loved how much he initiated everything. She had never felt so taken care of. She always envied the girls loved wholly by their boyfriends and now she had that for herself. There would be no day that would come that she took advantage of the boy she fell in love with two summers ago.
She shrugged, “You better be happy I trust you so much, I’d follow you into a dark cave without any questions.”
Ollie squeezed her, “I mean, I follow you anywhere you go, so if you’re not going into that cave, I’m not either.”
He pulled her down the stairs to the Tube as he slipped her backpack off her body and onto his. She kissed him in appreciation, “So, it’s settled. No dark caves.”
Ollie shook his head and led her to the place they needed to be. He held her hand tightly as they weaved through the crowds, his head flicking behind him to check on her frequently before just pushing her in front of him, his hands around her waist as he steered her.
When they got to their platform, he added his last thought to their conversation, “We need to get married first before wandering into dangerous caves.”
He said it so nonchalantly, it made her fall in love with him more. And when he met her eyes after he was met with silence, he found overwhelming joy within them.
He kissed her in the midst of the chaos underground, his hands cradling her face and hers loosely around his waist. They were a sight for sore eyes, but no one saw them in the midst of their special moment.
It was just for themselves and would be referred back to in the coming years as the moment where their forever really started.
Bloody hell, they were so in love.
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lovifie · 3 months
Text
Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 2: Captain’s Dinner
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
Warning/Notes: Captain Price x Reader (on this chapter only, the poly 141 is still building), Oral sex (F receiver), a bit nasty
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The rest of the drive goes by in a breath, suspiciously, Simon didn't step on any more bumps, and it felt like being rocking a baby. Kyle got his hand inside your shirt, but as nasty as your acts before, now his hand was just innocently caressing your back, keeping you calm and pliant against him.
At some point, the car stops and you hear Simon talk with someone outside of the car.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
The car moves again but for short this time. And just after a minute or two, the car stops and Simon turns off the engine. Everyone begins to exit the car, Kyle included with you in his arms. You notice people walking around, not too close but enough to see you, and you start to feel self-aware of the fact that you are being carried like a baby by the Sergeant.
“Can you put me down? I want to walk.” You say squirming a bit in the Sergeant’s arms.
“It's faster this way actually, doll.” He responds giving you a quick smile.
“At least put me on your back, it feels weird not seeing where we going.” You say turning your head around as much as you can.
Kyle snickers, making you turn to him with your eyebrows furrowed. “Doll, I actually would be really glad if you let me carry you like this the rest of the way because like this I can hide the fact that I came on my pants like a teenager.”
“Oh.” That's all you managed to say as you feel your cheek blushing. You can definitely feel your panties sticking to your pussy, but he must definitely feel his underwear hardening.
“Soap, Ghost, we will tomorrow at 0700 for a debriefing of today's events. Go rest now. Kyle, come into my office so we can find the key and free our little birdie.” Price orders behind you, relief flowing through your veins at the thought of being free.
Kyle enters the room, Price’s office by logic, and sits you on a desk. And once you are seated, he raises his arm and crouches down getting out of the weird knot of limbs.
He stands before you, free, as you look at him dumbfounded, still cuffed.
“H-how… You could do that?!” You ask looking at him. “I thought you didn't fit, that's why you haven't got out! You could do that?!”
Kyle simply chuckles at you while he adjusts his pants quickly and drops a peck on your forehead whispering against your skin. “Sorry, luv. But it was just too comfortable.” He turns to Price, announcing he is going to take a shower and leaves the room sending you a wink right before closing the door.
You turn to Price, looking a bit shocked still and he picks the key from the drawer at his desk. “Sorry about him, he is a good lad. Hope you were not uncomfortable, right?” He asks as he walks up to you, you put your hands together expecting him to unlock the cuffs, but instead, his hands travel to the back of your tights and he picks you up forcing you to put your hands around his shoulder (almost strangling him for a second before you remember to move your hands above his head)
You let him be, too tired already to fight anymore, and he sits you on the other side of the desk. In front of his chair, once you are seated, he sits on his chair and gets between your legs.
The sight in front of you shouldn't be allowed, broad shoulders making you physically spread your legs to accommodate him, blue eyes looking up at you and warm hands picking yours. “Let's take these off, yeah?”
“Yes, please.” You whisper back, not even sure what you are begging for.
Price takes the cuffs back, furrowing when he sees the red mark where the metal dented into your soft skin. He caresses both wrists drawing circles and then one of them goes higher on your arm up to the bandages. “How's the pain?” He asks looking at your arm.
“Hm? Oh, that… honestly, I always thought bullet wounds would hurt a lot more. It's not too bad, I almost had forgotten about it.” You say smiling back at him.
He chuckles back shaking his head. “I'm definitely having you give a pep talk to the rookies. Sorry about your blouse, as well. I'll pay for a new one.” He says caressing your arm.
“Oh, there is no need, really. This is an old one, I should have thrown it out a bit ago anyway.” You admit shaking your hands to let him know there is no need.
“I insist. And if you get any medical bills, or need any physiotherapy sessions or anything. We will pay for them, we'll take care of you, doll.” He says standing up to his full height still between your legs.
“You keep saying that…”
“What do you mean?”
“That you will take care of me.”
“Yes. We will if you allow us.”
You look at his face, trying to decipher what he means. But the intensity of his gaze pulls the air out of your lungs leaving you breathless, the heat from his body is scorching against you and the ground seems so far away you feel like you falling off a cliff.
“Are you okay, doll?” He asks softly looking to meet your gaze again cupping your face.
“Yeah.” You say softly pulling his hand away and you put a hand on his chest pushing him back. “I-I should get going, I have work in the morning it's better if I get back home.”
“You can stay the night if you want, I'll drive you to work tomorrow.” He quickly responds like he doesn't want you to go.
“Capt- John.” You correct yourself earning a smile from him. “John, I need to shower, and I don't have any clean clothes, really you have done more than enough for me, I will just go home.”
You stay looking at him, waiting for him to move back so you can hop off the desk and get out. But he doesn't, instead, he gets closer and moves both hands to cup your face making you look at him. “You are thinking too hard, doll.”
And then, as natural as it is to blink, he kisses you.
A soft peck right on the corner of your mouth to test the waters, a soft peck on the other side, and then, softly, almost like melting at the touch, a kiss right to the centre of your lips.
He moves slightly back, enough to be able to speak and ask. “You solid?”
And you nod.
You are not even a hundred per cent sure you know what he means, but you know that whatever the man in front of you would ask, you would say yes.
You shouldn't, you don't know him. You only know his name and his position as Captain. You know your mind is not clear, right now he is your saviour, he is been taking care of you since you met, and he is so strong, so gentle with you, so handsome.
You shouldn't be leaning in for another kiss, but you are.
There is always tomorrow for regrets.
But tonight, all your senses scream John Price.
Never did you though a kiss could get you so hot and bothered, he only has his hands on your face and his lips on yours and you are already panting.
He moves forward, hips crashing onto yours making you gasp and he uses the opportunity to get his tongue on your mouth.
You can taste the tobacco on his tongue, swimming down your body. His hands move, taking your hair back into a ponytail and he pulls back. It stings and you groan softly, shifting to a moan when you feel his lips down your throat.
His moustache tickles the soft skin of your neck in contrast with the scorching feeling of his breath. “Who beat me to it?” He asks, chuckling drily looking at something on your neck.
Fucking Kyle.
“Better to erase it, doll.” He says, possessiveness taking over him. And there are no more soft kisses, now he makes out, no, he devours your neck like a madman. Sucking and biting, feeling the mark erupt and your panties to grow wetter.
You bite your lip to try and not make an embarrassment of yourself from how badly you want to moan, and you take his shirt out of his pants. Running your hands under the shirt, needing to feel him.
“I hope you don't mind, sweetheart. Since it is already ruined…” He trails off as he grabs your shirt over your chest and pulls, hard, pulling the buttons of the fabric and ripping it where it didn't give in.
He almost growls when he sees the skin giggle and he dives right into your chest. His hands rest on your waist pulling you forward him, pulling your shirt out of your pants.
You try to take off your jacket, but the sudden movement causes a sharp pain in your arm making you groan in pain. Price quickly detaches himself from your skin to look at your face, alarmed he hurted you. “Sorry, you alright love?” He asks feeling guilty. You shake your head, only worrying him more and then you add. “It's not you, the jacket. Got stuck on the bandages or something; can you help me, please?” He smirks mischievously at you. “Help you to undress? Oh, darling, that's my pleasure.”
He kisses you on your lips again, taking off your jacket carefully and then your shirt. He pulls your bra strap down your shoulder, leaving your bra downside, your boobs out and pushes up. He cups one of your boobs groaning on your mouth when you moan softly and then bends down to get the other one inside his mouth.
He twirls his tongue around your nipple, savouring the taste of your skin. You move your hand to the back of his head, and when he gets lower, right under your boob over your ribs, and he bites you as you pull his hair moaning his name. “John…”
“Yeah, darling, moan my name like that.” He mumbles against your skin before he goes back to your mouth. “You taste like fucking candy, sweetheart. Can't fucking wait to taste all of your.”
“Do it. Do it, please.” You say against his mouth, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“Aw, darling, what a fucking sight. Asking so nicely, how can I say no?” He says between kisses as he undoes your pants.
He lifts your ass from the desk with an arm as he pulls down your pants and your underwear all together. He leaves you again on the desk and undoes the clasp of your bra taking it off. Leaving you completely bare on his desk, while he remains completely dressed. The vest is even still on.
“Fuck… I must have been a fucking saint on my last life to be worth it of this sight, angel.” He says looking up and down your body as he moves his hands from your waist up to your face to give you a kiss. “I'm gonna make you feel good, love. So, so good…” he trails off as he begins to give kisses down your jaw, neck, collarbones, sternum, tummy, and just when he is about to reach your mount. He pulls back making you whine. “Shh, pretty, just getting comfy.”
He grabs the chair from before sitting down, gets closer between your legs and pulls them over his shoulder forcing you to lean on your back using the elbow that is not hurt to prop yourself up enough to see him.
He kisses the inside of your tights, from your knee and higher, higher, higher… you can feel his beard on that soaking part of you where you need him the most. But he doesn't indulge you, instead, he goes back to your knee and high again. Teasing you, leaving you panting, aching, clenching around anything, needy, desperate.
“John… please… no more teasing…” you beg, feeling desperate for him.
“Poor baby, already soaking.” He says looking directly at your cunt, and you feel as he presses a thumb on your clit making you shudder at the feeling and he slowly moves it down your slit, reaching your dripping hole and pressing it, but without getting it inside. Just collecting your juices and driving you mad.
He takes the thumb up to his lips licking it while he looks at your eyes. “Just as I thought, fucking candy, love.” You want to complain, to grab his hair and shove his face against your cunt but the only thing that leaves your lips is a bratty whine, too horny to think straight.
You feel Price chuckle against your skin, and when you finally feel ready to tell him off, he presses his tongue flat against your clit turning your brain to absolute mush as you let go of a moan worth of a porn video as you let your head fall back.
He moves his head up and down, letting his tongue move between your folds; collecting your arousal mixing it with his spit making a mess on his beard.
His index finger moves to your entrance, slowly getting it inside stretching you slightly because of the size of his hands. He sucks at your clit, almost making out with it. And once he feels satisfied with it, he gets a second finger inside.
You keep moaning his name, like a mantra almost, not being able to remain quiet when he begins to thrust his finger in and out of your wet cunt. The sounds, the squelch, the sight, delightful.
You have been given head before, but never like this. It never had you begin for them to keep going, to not let you hanging, never this desperate. But John Price, it has you wishing you could kiss the terrorist of your neighbour just for putting you in his line of vision.
He curls his fingers inside of you pressing a point that has you falling on your back hitting your head load enough for him to chuckle against your cunt, but before he can lift his head to check on you, you just get your hand on his head keeping him in place.
Caressing his hair, spreading your legs even wider, he eats you out like a man starved. Like he hasn't eaten in days like he just found a water fountain in the middle of the desert.
You realise then, that the reason why you have never felt like this before with any ex-lover, is because you have never felt this desired. You can feel Price moaning against your cunt, and it makes you wonder who is enjoying it more.
Not for long though, because you begin to feel the knot on your stomach get tighter. More and more tight, you feel your toes curl and you close your eyes letting your mouth open as you feel the knot coming undone like an elevator free-falling. A high-pitched moan leaves your lips that in any other situation would make you feel embarrassed and your tights clasp around Price’s head when he doesn't relent on his attack.
He helps you ride out your orgasm as you cover your face with your hands, the light in the room is suddenly too bright, and after a couple of seconds, you look up at him.
And the sight…
He is sitting, leaning back against the chair, manspreading wide, an elbow resting on the armrest as he lazily licks clean the fingers that were just inside of you. Absolutely content with himself and his accomplishments, a sight absolutely devilishly delicious.
You notice the tent on his pants, and you try to touch him with your feet. But he grabs your ankle, and you don't have enough energy on you to push it.
“As much as I would like to keep going, doll.” He says letting your leg down and coming up closer to your face. “You can barely keep your eyes open, so I think it's time to rest.”
He stands up, goes somewhere behind you that you guess is the bathroom because of the sound of water and a bit later, he is back. He picks you up, and lays down on a sofa, with you on top.
A bathroom and a sofa inside of his personal office, he really is a military captain. He covers the both of you with a blanket, he gives you a kiss to the forehead and before you know it, you are out.
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Post-nut clarity doesn't hit until a couple of hours later.
You are naked, in an unknown man's office, far away from home, with no phone, no keys, no money, no clothes, ashamed.
So you do the only thing you can do, you slip away from the sleeping handsome man, get dressed as fast as you can without making any noise and leave the room. You don't even bother to put on your blouse, choosing to just close your jacket.
Once outside, you let a sigh escape your lips. You know the military base, it is actually not that far away from your home, less than an hour walking back.
Are you excited about walking back home at the break of dawn alone? No. Do you have another choice? Not really, not any that would help reduce the walk of shame you found yourself doing.
So you get your hands on your pockets and start doing your half a marathon back home.
And just as the sun is beginning to pick over the horizon, you reach your home.
Just last night there were dozens of police cars, military workers, everything, the whole paraphernalia. But now? It is just dead silence, no a soul in sight, as if nothing has ever happened.
The janitor calls your name when he sees you, he gives you your keys and tells you that the police dropped them by when they cleaned everything.
You wait for the elevator and make your way up to your floor. On apartment 608, there is a police notice, banning everyone from getting close to the crime scene. There are bullet holes and some bloody handprints on the walls, a blood splutters a bit too close to the height your arm is.
You shake your head trying to forget about it, and open your door. Once inside, you lock the door and look for your phone. Only to remember that it must be in your bag, in your car, where you dropped it when you tried to run.
You look at the clock on the wall that you always forget about, and realise you have 20 minutes to get ready if you want to make it time to work. So get at it.
Most of those 20 minutes, go into taking a shower. You feel dirty, mainly because you are, but also because you feel used. You think about Price and Kyle, handsome military men, they have probably visited countries you don't even know exist and they probably have a lover in each of them.
You are probably just another one, and you let them in so easily. They must have barely felt any satisfaction from such an easy catch.
You feel like crying for being so silly, but a voice in your head stops you. The voice in your head that picks you up whenever you fuck something up. Don't cry! Why would you cry?! They used you just as much as you used them! And they are not crying! So neither are you! You made a grown man cum on his pants by rubbing yourself a bit and an even grown-er man basically get on his knees to eat you out! So don't cry!
So you get out of the shower with another attitude, you are going to get a hold of the situation, you are going to get space between these men and yourself, and you are going to be just fine!
“Son of a bitch!” You exclaim when you see yourself in the mirror, if you had thrown yourself down the stairs there would be fewer bruises on your body. Well, not bruises, hickeys.
You huff getting out of the bathroom to get dressed, and then back to the bathroom to cover all the hickeys.
By divine grace, you make on time for work. You are exhausted, starving and if any of your coworkers spoke to you today just a bit out of tone, you would chew their arms off. But luckily, everything goes right.
At least, until you get back home, and the first thing you see when you get off the elevator, is a masked man standing in front of your door.
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I guess it is a series now, I don't know where I'm going with it but there is still a couple of things I have thoughts about.
If you guys have any ideas or scenarios please, tell me hehe
And if you want me to tag you on the next part drop a coment 💗
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inf3ct3dd · 4 months
Text
streamer!ellie pt.2
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summary: i hated the other one of this that i made, so REMAKE TIEM!!!
warnings: miiinor sexual content, shit talking, gay people 😒
authors note: heheheh ples don’t flop this time..
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- during her faceless days, she opened up a po box so ppl could send her things, and she made an amazon wishlist and she unboxed stuff on stream 😍😍
- one day she was unboxing a giant box of cat toys. string, those little feather stick things, even that weird automatic flapping fish thing (that she secretly loves and taped to her back one time)
- she was playing with this one toy that was a little fishing reel, and it had string and a little fish on the bottom. she went on and onnn about how shes a self proclaimed “fishing master” while garf chased it around, letting out little meows and growls of frustration.
- eventually, she lost her grip and let go of the pole. she bent down to pick it up, forgetting that her face would be in view. thus, the chat started blowing up.
ewwwbruh: FACE REVEAL
ewwife: EW WE CAN SEE UR FACE
ewwife: JUST THE SIDE BUT WE CAN SEE YOUU
ewssidechick: her nose looks so rideable…
- she got distracted petting garfield, and didn’t realize anything until she stood up. she was getting tagged over and over again on twitter, blurry pictures of her face (curtesy of the shitty webcam) circulating through her subreddit.
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- “guys. im gonna erase this from ur memory…” and she literally held up this goofy ass hypnotizer pendelum and started fake hypnotizing everyone like “that never happenedddd” “you don’t know what i look likeeee” “that was fakeeee” “chat that was not reallll”
- and everyone literally js went along with it and pretended it never happened. like ppl were tweeting about it and everyone was like “huh??? what are u talking about bruh??”
- she did the same thing after falling off her rainbow unicorn scooter 😞
- one time she revealed that the “ew” in her username stood for her initials, and everyone was making the most horrendous guesses. elliam willace being the favorite one.
- “guys, my name is not edward wilson??? i am…not a man”
- shes gotten into so much drama…multiple notes app apologies have been issued via her instagram story.
- people would ask her opinions on other streamers, and she’d literally just be like “…i have no idea who that is.” and people would get so MADDDD but homegirl is literally just blatantly unaware
- or she would know , and would literally be like “they’re honestly super annoying and i would rather kill myself than watch them but whatever floats ur boat ig!”
- she played that “womp womp womp womppp” sound effect on her soundboard afterwards.
- SPEAKING OF. she abuses that soundboard sooo much. its so obnoxious and annoying like I SWEARRR!!! she’ll tell a horrible pun and play the crowd laughing and cheering sound effects while literally no one laughed.
“guys. whats the best way to watch a fly fishing tournament??”
“…live streaming.”
(crowd cheering sound effect)
“nooo thank you thank you, you’re all too kind, really!!”
- meanwhile chat was dead silent.
- every time she gets to choose her own name on a game its some dumb shit like "jizzmaster" or "chris fucker"
- “it appears you have entered innapropriate content.” “OHHH LOOK AT EPISODE LOOK AT THESE CORPORATE BIGWIGS TRYING TO CONTROL THE LITTLE MAN???”
- she just ended up naming him “chris phucker”
- like when she played episode on stream and made up really annoying voices for all the characters and made her character look like an elderly man, and made the love interest look like you 😍😍
- she messes up sm on games when she streams normally, but when you're there? she is LOCKED THE FUCK IN. sitting there so focused the entire time just to show off
- whenever she randomly goes silent she just starts SINGING. it's either nicki minaj or some fucking fnaf song
"IS THIS THE THANKS THAT I GET FOR PUTTING U BITCHES ON???"
- speaking of, her favorite fnaf song is def “stay calm” cuz she loves saying “hey kids. Nice to eat ya.”
- bought one of those "i paused my game to be here" tshirts…ironically. you refuse to let her wear it in public
- beefs w kids on fortnite sm... she has definitely gotten banned for saying she was gonna bomb a kids house or fuck their mom 😞
- every time she plays a game, she'll literally sit there and watch an 8 hour long video about the lore. she'll plop down on the couch and watch it like a movie
"did you know everyone actually thought that fnaf one took place in 1993, but it was actually 1992?"
- she definitely had you sit next to her when she played through fnaf because she was lowk scared the entire time whenever she heard you walking around the house while she was playing she'd hear footsteps in the hallway and be like. WHAT THE FUCKKK
-she'd have you right next to her, laying your head on her shoulder and messing with her free hand. if you fell asleep, she would be sitting there slapping her hand over her mouth whenever she gets jumpscared bc she doesn't want you to wake up 😞
- sometimes, while she streams , she plays one handed games and lets you sit and draw on her arm for fun. even got you a whole set of those skin markers so u could go ABSOLUTELY HAM. she got one drawing you did that said “r + e 4eva” tattooed in ur handwriting…such a sap
- she loves watching fan edits of herself...AND OF YOU. she'll be on her burner account with a whole collection on tiktok of edits of you.
ewwsbiggestfan: shes so bad i want her to hit me w her car...
- speaking of. imagine her using that account to make shitty capcut edits of you like
- shes ur biggest fan ongod
-WHILE WE’RE ON THE TOPIC OF “fans”…what if i made a completely new origin story for streamer!ellie and reader. what if they were both streamers….
- OKAY SO BASICALLY.
- you had started streaming about a year before ellie did. butttt, you two did very different types of streaming.
- you weren’t very into like, SERIOUS video games. sure, you played some stuff, like animal crossing and roblox and the sims, but nothing more than that.
- that wasn’t what you were streaming though.
- ever since you were younger, you had been wayyyy into…literature.
-by literature i mean fanfiction. heaps of it.
- actors, anime characters, BOOK CHARACTERS, you were in DEEP
- sometimes, for fun, you used to read them out loud in stupid voices. when you were alone, or with your friends, it was very entertaining
- that’s when you got the idea to start streaming it. if it could entertain your friends, and you, whos to say it wouldn’t entertain other people.
- well, it definitely did. in your first year, you hit 10k followers. people loved you. theyd make edits of you, send in requests of fics for you to read, everything.
- a while later, ellie started gaining more and more popularity. out of all the incomes of fame, fanfiction was the most. abundant!
- one day, you got a request to read an ellie x reader fic. at the time, you barely had any idea who she was, but you decided to just go with it 🤞🏽
- “who the fuck is elliam willace???”
- the fanfic was definitely very…graphic!
- “your hips rolled onto her thigh, her slender, tattooed hand palming at your waist. ‘you’re doing so good babe, fuck.’-“ “GUYS. ISN’T SHE NOT ON MUTE RIGHT NOW???”
- you couldn’t help but giggle the rest of the fic, feeling a nagging heat in your core. you didn’t even know who the girl was, but if this fic was accurate, someone would have to sedate you.
-“im actually. gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure. GUYS. who is this woman…is she real… if she is. things are about to get WICKED.”
- not very thankful to you at the moment, she was very real. apparently, you and her were streaming at the same time, and your followers raided her stream telling her she was reading about you. her curiosity was obviously piqued, and why would she NOT join the stream?
- creeperewman: im definitely real!
- the text on your screen literally made your stomach fall into your ass. you stood up and legit just walked out of the room, camera still on. was she there the whole time???
- creeperewman: aww 😞 where’d she go she’s so badddd
- you eventually returned after a minute of calming yourself down, and low and behold, she gifted you 100 subs and followed you on instagram.
- she was definitely very real!! and that fanfic was…lore accurate. to say the least 😊
- after you two started dating, the two of you would often show up on eachothers streams. ellie, teaching you how to play cod, and you, reading with her.
- she secretly loves reading the fics people write about her and making fun of them, and every time you stream with her shes “subtly” hinting that you should read about her
sitting there pulling on her collar, looking away like “gee, wonder who you’re gonna pick today” with the worst fake laugh ever.
- “ellie can barely ride a scooter, idk why she’s in the mafia rn…” “you fall off ONE TIME and all of a sudden you cant ride a scooter. bullshit.”
- she makes fun of all the dumb pet names like “babygirl” and “darling” and randomly calls you them and bursts out laughing
- you still read those fics when you’re bored sometimes. and ellie MERCILESSLY makes fun of you for it
“yknow, if you missed me that bad, you should’ve just told me.”
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luversgirl · 1 year
Text
TO BE SO LONELY, rafe cameron
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summary: after all the pogues forget the youngest roguelege girl’s birthday she goes to the beach only to see someone she never expected remembered her special day.
notes: here’s me randomly dropping this since i’ve been lurking lately
warnings: y/n kinda maybe being dramatic?
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“GOOD morning” y/n smiled as she watched her older brother walk into the kitchen.
“uh huh” john mumbled as she walked past the girl barely agnolaging her precise.
“where are you going?” the girl asked as the boy slip his shoes on and grabbed is keys from the counter.
“i’m gonna pick up jj and meet kiara and pope at the beach”
“what about me?” y/n looked at her brother as he opened the front door.
“um…” john b turned his head to look at his little sister “you can just chill here” he spoke before walking out of the chatue leaving the girl there alone not even giving her time to reply.
“happy birthday to me”
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after texting the rest of the pogues to see if they remembered the girl’s birthday or even wanted to hangout, but of course they all forgot and didn’t seem to even want to be around her.
sighing, y/n placed her phone face down in the purple beach towel he was sitting on and brought her knees to her chest.
y/n was never one of those self centered people who expected all the attention on her she was just hoping to have a nice birthday seeing as it was the first one without her father, big john.
ever since he’d gone missing y/n watched her brother drifting farther and father away from her taking their, or dare she say his friends now.
leaving her alone.
as the girl stared off into the distance rafe cameron stood not to far from her wondering why she was sitting alone on her birthday.
“y/n” the familiar voice of the kook king came from behind the girl.
she quickly wiped her tears and turned to look up at him from her spot.
“rafe, please don’t start you’re shit just leav-“
“i wasn’t gonna start anything” rafe walked towards her up to the point where he was still standing but by her side.
“what are you doing?“ y/n asked as she watched the cameron boy sit beside her in the same position, knees to his chest.
“i’m sitting with you on you’re birthday”
the rougtledge girl instantly wiped her head to look at rafe in shock.
“h- how did you…”
“i remembered from last year” he said making a small smile make its way onto y/n’s face “it’s still the same day, yeah?” rafe joked making y/n giggled for the first time that day.
“yeah” she spoke through her light giggle making rafe smile.
“good, good” rafe looked at y/n as she looked at the scene in front of them “so.. where’s your little pogue friends?” rafe watched as the small smile on her face disappeared.
“um they went… out” y/n spoke as her smile dropped as she turned her head to looking back at the water.
“i think you’re lying” he stated arms wrapped around his knees closer as they touched his chest.
y/n sighed giving in “they, uh forgot”.
“what do you mean they forgot?” rafe ferwwod his eyebrows as he quickly turned his head to look at the girl.
“i think you know what i mean rafe” y/n chuckled lightly looking at him.
“how could they just forget? i mea-“
“rafe” y/n stopped him in his rant.
“no y/n, their you’re friends they should remember you’re birthday, even you remembered my birthday and i’m well uh…” rafe trailed off.
“…not the nicest person?” y/n spoke slowly hoping not to offend rafe since she didn’t have anyone else to talk too.
rafe reached his hand up scratching the back of his neck “yeah”.
“well not that this wasn’t the most awkward thing in the world…” y/n trailed off as she started to get up.
“wait!” rafe quickly exclaimed standing up as y/n did “do uh, maybe want a ride?” the cameron boy spoke.
“that would be great actually” y/n smiled at rafe making him grin and look down “my bikes over here” rafe and the girl started walking to his car.
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“where did she go?” john b questioned for the 30th time in the same hour as him and the rest of the pogues sat in the chatue.
“john b don’t worry about it, i’m sure she’s with some other friends” jj spoke as he sat on one of the three couches in the sun room smoking a joint.
“yeah i mean she’s probably just hanging out with some other friends or something and forgot to text” sarah said as she sat beside john b.
“do her friends include rafe?” pope spoke up sitting up from beside jj looking past john b and sarah.
the rest of the group turned to look in to same direction as pope only to see y/n leaning against rafe’s dirt bike holding a bag from a boutique sarah recognized as he looked at her like she was the only girl in the universe.
“oh fuck no” john b muttered before jumping off the couch with the pogues following along “get away from my sister rafe!” he yelled at the standing pair.
y/n quickly turned away from rafe and to her brother annoyed at his loud antics and decided to give him and the pogues a piece of her mind.
“fuck off john b!” she yelled back walking towards the group with rafe filling beside her.
“you got this?” rafe muttered into y/n’s ear as they walked over close together.
y/n turned to look at him and nodded then slipping her hand into his making him grin.
“what the hell!” jj yelled as the group and y/n met along with rafe.
“what are you doing!? y/n that’s rafe!” kiara yelled at the girl confused and angry at her.
“yeah no shit kie!” y/n yelled back surprising the group with the out burst seeing as they’ve never seen her like that before.
“y/n, do you not remember what he’s done to us?!” pope yelled very angry with his younger sister.
“actually i remember what he’s done to you and honestly why should i care?!” the girl yelled back at pogues now angry with her as well as rafe.
“he’s literally the scum of the earth!” jj yelled making y/n squeeze rafe’s hand.
“well you know at least he can remember someone’s birthday!” y/n finally burst as she stared to tear up.
“someones birthday why does tha-“ john b started to yell.
“yeah, john b someone’s birthday. it’s not like they celebrate every single one their friends birthdays and spend ours panning partys for them and working triple shifts to get the money to buy them gifts!” the girl yelled not holding back.
“y/n we-“
“save it jj” y/n spoke not bothering to raise her voice.
“i do everything for you guys, i cook, i clean and i even do all you’re fucking laundry but now i’m done” y/n finished as salty trail made their way down her face.
seeing the girl in front of him, rafe lightly tugged on y/ns hand silently asking if she wanted to leave.
the roughtled girl accepted his offer turning way from the people she thought were her friends walking over the rafe’s bike and leaving with a single one of them stopping her.
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taglist: @faeaura @prettyboystarkey @euthoricspidey @pankowfruitsnacks @rafecameronswhore @yunho-leeknow @outeredits-jess @totallynotkaibiased
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xerotiny99 · 26 days
Text
Game Night Gone Wrong // Our Precious #2
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Game Night Gone Wrong (Our precious series #2)
M.list ┃ Previous ┃Next
Warnings: smut, dom!yunho, soft dom!seonghwa, sub!reader, threesome, striptease, big dick yunho, masturbating, throat-fucking/blowjob, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation (Yunho's got a dirty mouth), praising/praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, pussy slapping (yikes), hair pulling and a lot of teasing.
Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable with any of the mentioned tags. :) PS: this got too long, and I got too lazy to divide this into parts. PPS: the initial part of the smut might seem like it's nonconsensual, but it is completely consensual. Again, apologies for keeping this too long, don't let the word count intimidate you from the smutty goodness. ;)
Gist: you decide to make an appearance at this supposed game night Jongho was talking about. Unfortunately, you did not know how badly riled up you'd become after meeting his seven other flatmates which also includes Yunho; the man who sees it as a perfect opportunity to stay true to his word but there's someone else who also craves to touch you. Wait...is it only one person who's interested in you?
Word Count: 16,452
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  Standing in front of the wooden door, the one moored with the numbers "405" in silver chrome, you're hesitant to raise your hand ring the doorbell. There you were, in front of Jongho's apartment, the one he shares with seven other men. The apparent loft was located a little farther from the university, situated on the east side of the city where the streets are abuzz. You've been to this part of the town, the quiet by day and busy by night kinda place—this area has a lot of interesting spots, one of them being Jongho's loft where eight people are residing.
Tiny tremors have already taken up the space under your skin, demurring your sense of self to the awaiting incredulity on the other side of the door. You take a deep breath in, letting out with a feigned smile as you bring out your phone to text the only man you knew inside. Technically, two of them. Your phone buzzes in your hand, even before you could send a text to your friend; having received a text, which reads 'are you coming over?' from Yunho, you brace yourself and heave out another sigh.
"Here goes nothing," you mumble to yourself, dipping your finger against the elevated button as a mellow ding rings inside, loud and clear, however.
You could hear muffled whispers coming from the other side. Anticipation had numbed a part of you, shattering the reality when the locks click, and the door flings open inside. The man who stood there was staring at you with a small smile, comforting. Though, you could only focus on how well-mannered he seemed, even from his body language—he was gorgeous.
He ushers you in, "oh, you must be Angel. I didn't expect you to be this early, actually."
"Jongho gave me the time..." you trail.
"Ah, then I believe he must've mixed up some of his timings. I apologise on his behalf."
"It's fine, to be honest."
You shrug and step inside; the vestibule has a shoe rack to the side, housing house slippers and other accessories. There's a coat rack right beside it where the ebony haired man hangs your coat after asking you to hand it to him. He picks out a pair of house slippers for you to wear, laying them on the floor as you take your time slipping out of your boots and into them. As he leads you further inside the loft, you notice everything about the place—even the man in front of you. His back faced you as you strode in, but you could gauge him to be as tall as Yunho, maybe a few inches shorter but that didn't matter much. He was clad in a beige dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top to expose bit of his tanned skin and pairing the shirt with dark brown pants. The ruly strands of his hair were permed, and framed his face neatly, even though a few of it laid flat on his forehead.
The narrow hallway leads you to the living room from the vestibule, where you find three men lounging leisurely on the couch and the floor. The living room was minimally decorated with the centre space being occupied by the couch and two chairs seemingly from the same set, a wooden coffee table was situated in front of the couch and a long cabinet was placed behind the couch. On top of the cabinet were few glass showpieces and magazines strewn on about, not making it seem crowded; your eyes stray past it and to the long sliding doors at the back, aligned in the same lines of the cabinet. The doors opened to a small balcony apparently, but the curtains were draped over to give you any sight of the evening outside. There was no television in the living room but oddly enough there were set of three hallways which ran along three different directions. You wondered where those took you to, even more so, you wondered how huge this loft actually was if it was housing eight people.
You focus back on the men, two of them were seated on the couch, close together and the other one sat down, between the couch and the coffee table, leaning against the couch as he scrolled through his phone. One of the two sitting on the couch has a broad yet teasing smile on his face, as he mumbles softly at the person to his right and the person to his right...he was actually breathtaking—he didn't try to hide the annoyance on his face as the other teased him on. However, the one sitting down on the floor was a little too lost in his world to even acknowledge your presence. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, but you played along anyway.
"Guys, Angel's here." The man leading you announces, capturing the attention of the others. "Be nice to her."
His warning tone makes the other three scoff, but unbothered by their response, he turns to you and offers you an even wider smile. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get you something to drink..."
He's two steps ahead of you but then swivels on his heels and murmurs awkwardly, "I'm Seonghwa. If you need anything else, just let me know."
With that he's off, sauntering down another hallway to the right, merging with the open spaced kitchen. You take another deep breath, rummaging your eyes through the scene in front of you. The teasing guy has his hair pulled back in a half ponytail, a few streaks of blond stitched in between his black hair; he seems smug, and defiant, probably a delinquent.
"Hi," he initiates, a lazy smile on his face. "Come on, take a seat."
He shifts on the couch, purposely sliding closer to the man onto his right, as to make space for you on his left. "Only the best seat in Wooyoung's house for a pretty woman like you."
Listening to him, the other one scoffs, "tone down on your confidence, Woo."
"Flirting is all about confidence, Sangie," he keeps his teasing tone low and pinches the man's cheeks. "Right, Angel?"
"Uhhh..."
"Please ignore him, he's a little straightforward and hasn't learnt how to speak to women properly," the said man rolls his eyes, "on a serious note, please sit anywhere but next to him."
"Ugh, you always treat me like a sick joke..." Wooyoung sighs, dramatically throwing himself off to the other side of the couch. "I'm nothing but a man with a good heart."
"Your exes say otherwise, but okay."
As the two continue back and forth with their unsolicited burns and remarks, you decide to make yourself comfortable on the chair adjacent to the couch, seemingly belonging to the set of the seating arrangement. Two pair of eyes follow you as you sit down and pull the hem of your skirt down in an attempt to cover whatever it could. You were slightly regretting your dressing choices; you wore a black skirt which rode upto your mid thighs and paired it with a red crop top which was tucked in your skirt. Going a little overboard, you even wore thigh high socks, ending an inch below the skirt. You didn't bother with makeup and kept it light, having only applied light blush and peachy eyeshadow, and gloss on your lips.
The third man was least interested in meeting you or even getting the introductions started. You noticed how buff he was, not much compared to the man sitting on the couch right above him; but he was toned in places a man should be, and regrettably, his body was mostly hidden behind an oversized cloak of red sweatshirt and baggy sweats. Wooyoung had a casual approach to his outfit, wearing a black jacket with its zipper pulled all the way down till the middle of his chest, revealing a simple white graphic tee under it complementing the outfit with baggy sweatpants; on the other hand, the man next to him, having awe-inspiring features and a body worth drooling on, has black hair growing out till his shoulders, wore a black woven cardigan and a black tank top underneath, with black jogger shorts. Black was his shade, since his skin was stark and as fair as the snow, like Yunho.
"Jongho talks a lot about you," Wooyoung begins, grinning. "It's nice to meet you in person, finally. Name's Wooyoung and this is Yeosang, don't pay him any mind, he's a little vapid. And umm, that's Mingi. Hey, Mingi, why don't you introduce yourself."
He nods to the man sitting on the floor, who then actually takes a little effort to glance your way. Mingi grunts in return for your dazed smile, which already tells you that it's going to be hard to get along with him.
"Mingi, that's rude," Seonghwa chimes, keeping a smile on his face as he emerges out of the hallway with a tray of drinks in his hand, "introduce yourself properly."
The latter takes it as a warning and clears his throat, "Mingi, Song Mingi." he eyes you for a second before turning to Seonghwa, "that's the best you'd get from of me."
Seonghwa sighs, placing the tray of drinks on the coffee table and urging you to pick a glass, "I really apologise for his behaviour, but have a drink and try not to pay him any heed."
You reflect back with a smile and pick a glass filled with cola, "thank you."
"So, you're in Jongho's department, right?" Seonghwa asks, sitting next to Wooyoung. "We've heard a lot about you from him, actually. He's always gushing about you and how much he likes to hang out with you."
Okay, you didn't know the latter of that.
"I really didn't know that..." you mumble, taking a sip of cola. "We're friends. Right. We share same subject groups so, he's my only friend, to be honest. And he's enough so I didn't bother making any more friends."
"Hey, now you have us!" Wooyoung cheers, "any friend of Jongho's is our friend."
"Calm down, Wooyoung," Yeosang rolls his eyes, "for the better part of it, I'll have to agree with him. From now on, we're your friends too. So, don't hesitate."
Seonghwa chirps, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he talks, "you're in your sophomore year, right?
"Final semester," you mutter, "in few months I'll be in my junior year. Just as Jongho."
Seonghwa nods, "I hope you're not feeling uncomfortable with us; all these unfamiliar faces..."
"I'm good, actually." You reassure and Wooyoung adds, "I think I have seen you around the campus, so not an unfamiliar face to take a sight of—maybe you've seen me around too, I am a culinary major."
Even though you wouldn't admit it to yourself, or them, you had long forgotten about the awkwardness without Jongho being here. And, deeming Wooyoung as a culinary major was something you probably never even considered in your wildest dreams. One by one, after Wooyoung's little introduction, the others take his lead and talk about themselves.
"I'm a college dropout," Yeosang begins, "and now I'm a freelancer. I mostly do graphic design and illustration."
You nod, intently listening to them.
"I graduated last year." Seonghwa says, "now, I work full time as a software designer for a small startup company."
Intriguing.
There was something about Seonghwa you found alluringly interesting, like maybe it was the way he spoke to you, or the way he engaged with the other guys. Expectantly, you glance over at Mingi, hoping, he too, would have something to say or add to the discussion. Everyone's eyes are on him, expecting.
Mingi croons his neck up to meet your eyes, and he sighs, "I'm a dance major and I graduate soon."
So... similar to Yunho?
You see him lock his phone and stuff it into the pocket of his sweatpants, not uttering a word further; Seonghwa clears his throat and casts a longing gaze at the front door.
"Others will be here soon," he says, grabbing a glass of sprite from the tray. "I actually sent Jongho and San out to get us some beers, there's only one six pack left in the fridge. And I also did not expect you to come early." he was informing you of Jongho's whereabouts, "Hongjoong and Yunho are usually the late ones because of their work."
At the mention of Yunho, your stomach lurches and your mind recalls to the night you two had lost yourself in the heat of the moment—you were hiding it pretty well, at least, you thought you were. There's nothing trapped between your teeth, there's no evident clues to that night for anyone to know; let alone anyone would doubt you two had interacted before. Though, your heart claims to have an intense anticipation for this night to unfold, considering Yunho had warned you that he would fuck you senseless if you showed up tonight. And here you were...
"Beer gets us going," Wooyoung comments, eyeing Yeosang. "But this one needs wine."
"How is that relevant in this context?" the latter deadpans, causing Mingi to chuckle softly, "he's intending to say you've got an expensive taste, Sangie."
Yeosang pouts, "wine tastes better than beer."
"I'd drink to that," Seonghwa laughs along, raising his glass and looking at you, "I hope you're not a lightweight. Unless you don't drink at all."
"I do. Occasionally." you grimace at the memory sitting far back in your head, the first time you drank alcohol (beer) wasn't really worth it. "I am not so fond of alcohol, though. Who says you need to have alcohol to have fun?"
"I do," Wooyoung deadpans.
"No one asked you—"
Yeosang grows silent in his words upon hearing the lock to the front door rattle; soon, it's being pushed inside with a heavy voice—which you could never forget—grumbling to someone. The first person to walk in the living room is a blue haired man, a lot shorter than Yunho, carrying a leather laptop bag and a roll of red fabric in his hand. He somehow manages to stumble across the floor to the long dining table in front of the kitchen—dumping the stuff on top of the table, he slumps himself on the chair and sighs. Yunho is the second person to walk inside, followed by Jongho and other man with sharp eyes and features.
"I told you that man was weird!" the one with sharp eyes groans, and Yunho sighs, "but you didn't have to say that right to his face, did you now, Sannie?"
"If we hadn't made a sound, it would've gotten weirder," Jongho adds, walking in with a couple of polythene bags crinkling in his hands.
"He almost licked my neck!" the other—apparently named Sannie or to your understanding, San as Seonghwa mentioned it before, groans, "that's why I never take the elevator."
"I only suggested 'cause we had stuff to carry." Jongho raises his hands to show him the bags he carried in them. "I didn't think Mr. Yoshida would follow us in."
"Guys, drop it," the blue haired man tuts from the table, raising his head to meet your eyes, "we've got a guest, might as well show her a little respect."
He smiles at you before getting up from his chair; and that's when the others' heads turn toward you. Jongho grins wide, Yunho smirks, and San appears to have wide eyes and rounded lips, confused as if.
"Angel!" Jongho squeals, taking tiny hop-like steps toward you; his arms open wide as to hug you.
Placing your glass back on the tray, you find yourself rushing to him to get his hug. You round the coffee table from the other side as Mingi sat still on the couch's side and scoffed at your excitement to hug your friend. You and him are going to have problems getting along if you ever decide to hang out with the guys in the future. Seamlessly, you wrap your arms around Jongho's chest as he somehow manages to return the embrace with the bags in his hands.
"You made it!" he mumbles, pulling back.
"She was early," Seonghwa quips, getting up from the couch and heading to the kitchen. "You gave her the wrong time, baby bear."
"Hmm, I really apologise," he pouts, backing away from you and eventually tiptoeing to the kitchen, you follow him, a smile on your face.
"It's okay, baby bear," you tease him only to get a reaction out of him. And he groans, "that name isn't sticking. Please."
You shake your head, as you lean over the kitchen island and watch him place the bags on top of it. The polythene bags crinkle as he keeps them down and proceeds to take out their contents; there's chinese takeout in two of the bags, and the other one had a six pack. You're about to initiate a conversation with Jongho until you're interrupted by a sleek yet hoarse voice.
"So, you're Angel..." a soft voice resounds from behind you and when you turn, you find the blue haired man smiling at you, "I'm Hongjoong and I believe you've heard this from everyone here, but Jongho can't shut up about you."
You glance at Jongho. "Awww..."
"Ahhh, please. Stop it!" he whines louder, blushing.
"What? It's the truth." Hongjoong grins, "I'll freshen up while the others set up everything. Usually our game nights happen much later in the night. We made an exception for you 'cause this one's been nagging us for days now about inviting you."
He offers you a gentle smile before disappearing down the hallway leading to the left of the kitchen; his stringent yet relaxed posture had an imposed meaning behind his personality. From the way body language seemed more pronounced in the royal blue suit he adorned himself in and the way he hushed others, you could tell he was a domineering man. Someone whose authoritativeness would bring any woman down to her knees—you were thinking too much. Or were you really?
The desolate kitchen is rejoiced with Seonghwa's harmless little scolds directed at Jongho, but before you could comprehend any of their tiff, an arm snakes around your waist, with a presence warming up your side.
"Hey, Angel," his deep voice was like nectar, dripping in your ears and snaring your mind to his will. "Glad you could make it. Good choice. Good decision. And good thinking..." his words trail off to a whisper as he leans near your ear, "...but keeping my word—oh wait—keeping my promise, I'm going to keep you to myself for this night. I hope you're prepared for that."
His arm skims down your waist, fingers fluttering below and under your skirt as his tickling touches caress your inner thighs. That's it. He doesn't inch his hand closer to your aroused cunt; you were wet, you knew—his words were riling you up with every ounce of strength in them. In retrospect, you were playing out the night in your head where he'd be fucking you the way he wants to, the way he promises to.
Clasping your bottom lip with your teeth, you try to squeeze your thighs, to get that extra little friction to feel something (at least). Though, it had slipped your mind that his hand was still holding onto one of your thighs; catching up on your intentions, he lightly smacks your inner thigh and draws out a yelp from your lips. Your cunt clenches around nothing, feeling the heated rumble in your chest and the exasperated urge to have him stuffed in you.
The sound you let out attracted the squabbling pair; they cast their eyes on you, weary and dubious, silently judging the interaction between you two. You could call it your luck, but the two weren't able to get a view of what was happening behind the kitchen island.
"Are you alright, Angel?" Yunho feigns his concern, taking a small step away from you.
"Feeling under the weather?" Jongho urges, lips pouting slightly. "Do you want to leave...?"
"I'm okay," you voice out, taking a deep breath. "Yunho was talking about how peaches bruise easily and I just happened to gasp, dramatically."
"No double entendres, right Yun?" Seonghwa jokes and Yunho nods his head, "really, nothing of the sort. Just a casual conversation."
He clears his throat, "By any means, I'll take your leave. I need to freshen up and change my clothes. Jongho, go help the others set the living room."
With a ribbing curve stretching on his lips, Yunho excuses himself and saunters away from you down the hallway on the right. The moment he's out of your eyesight, Jongho slides next to you, purposely bumping into your hips as he does. Meanwhile, Seonghwa picks out the takeout containers and other necessities before leaving the two of you in the kitchen.
"Angel," Jongho murmurs, "are you trying to impress someone."
He's smug.
You shake your head, refusing to meet his eyes as he leans over to taunt you. "Shut up! Why would I need to impress any of your flatmates?"
"The way you're dressed, I guess," he shrugs, staring at you from top to bottom, "thigh high socks, that skirt, that top. Modest make-up. You wouldn't take this much effort if you weren't trying to impress someone."
"Hmm...so, who is it?" he nudges your arm, his lips pressed together—a line struck with jealousy, probably.
"Jongho, you're getting the wrong idea, why would I really want to impress any of the guys I barely know?" You pout, glancing at him for a hot second before reverting back to staring down at your fingers as you tapped them away on the island counter.
"I don't know, for starters they're all good looking." he turns on his feet and leans against the countertop, "maybe you're seeking out a relationship with someone. Either it's been too long since you've gotten laid or someone here has intrigued you enough to date them."
"Jongho..."
He interrupts, "is it Yunho?"
"What?"
"Do you like Yu—"
"—living room has been...am I interrupting something?" Seonghwa questions, stopping a few steps short from the two of you.
"Oh, it's nothing," Jongho murmurs, sounding a little bitter. "We were discussing a few things related to our classes."
Seonghwa nods and you stifle a silly whine, the stupefying urge to confront Jongho about his nonchalant sneer at your outfit. The older picks up a few more things from the kitchen before heading out; two of you follow him to the living room, with Jongho not uttering a single word. Sighing to yourself, you find the coffee table in the living room was pushed to a side, leaving the centre carpeted space to be occupied. Others were already sitting in a circle, eating out of the Chinese takeout containers —you lurk behind a little as the sitting arrangements played out. Jongho clears his throat and sits next to Mingi, leaning back against the couch where Seonghwa makes himself comfortable. Wooyoung, Yeosang and San, they sat opposite to the couch, slumping themselves against the coffee table as support.
You take a deep breath, put on a frail smile as you sit down next to San on the lush and soft carpet; the man offers you a dimpled smile and hands you a takeout container along with chopsticks and a bottle of beer. Helplessly, you eye Jongho from the corner of your vision, as he too starts guzzling down food from his own container. Sitting next to Jongho would have made either of you uncomfortable since the harmless squabble between you two had been left unresolved. You were doing it out of spite, however.
"So, what are we playing tonight?" Yeosang pipes in, gazing around and pointing his stained chopsticks at Seonghwa.
Seonghwa shrugs, "we'll keep it light. Nothing which strains Angel's ease or brings her discomfort."
"Damn," Wooyoung winces, "I was about suggest strip-uno."
San rolls his eyes, glaring at the said man—slowly chewing the bite of chicken in his mouth, "I sometimes wonder how your brain functions."
"It probably doesn't," Jongho adds, earning a whine from the latter. "Suggest something else."
"How about strip-monopoly?" Wooyoung suggests, eyebrow twitching in a goading manner.
"Anything which has strip in it will be rebuked; so, something else has to work," Seonghwa utters with annoyance, fixing himself a container of noodles.
"To be fair, I don't have any problem playing 'strip' games," you shyly enunciate, not meeting anyone's gazes on you. "In all honesty, it sounds fun. And what's the worst that could happen?"
You were joking. In your mind you were considering all worst possible scenarios where things could wrong; you could be taken advantage of and made to strip all the way, you could lose the remaining of your dignity to Yunho in case you go all bare, or—there's no or here, it's too risky to play these games with them.
"We understand your perspective, darling. But we're men and for a woman to engage herself in those kind of games with us is both unethical and unfair," Hongjoong's voice gushes through, offering your spine a dainty tingle. "We will keep it light, and hearty, as Seonghwa said."
He has his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black sweatpants; on top he wears a tank top, exposing his defined arms, not too buff or too lean. The deep cut on his neckline gives you a small glimpse of his chest, eventually delighting you with an accidental nip-slip. It happens again as he carefully sits next to Seonghwa, making sure he doesn't hurt Jongho or Mingi who were leaning against the front of the couch. He runs his hand through his freshly washed hair, sighing out a string of incoherent words as he glances at the man next to him. Seonghwa is quick enough to hand him his share food and as he eats, his eyes occasionally fleet over to you.
"If you bend the rules of your game night for me, then how is that fair and ethical?" you tilt your head to a side, pouting at him. "I'm comfortable with whatever, so I think we should not waste any more time."
Seonghwa chuckles and Hongjoong breaks out into a mischievous smile, keeping his stare on you. "Alright then, we'll play strip-uno as Wooyoung initially suggested."
Darkness swirled in Hongjoong's eyes, the kind of ambiguity which dominates—something like the predator forcing its prey into submission. You were weak already, staring and catching up on the minute details sketched in his eyes, and his lips. Hongjoong had an authority, a commanding aura which could force any one into submission. You were no stranger to these kind of men, and for some reason, you were hella attracted to them.
"Sure," Wooyoung sleazes, smirking. He keeps the takeout to a side, and leans back onto the coffee table to grab what seems to be a deck of cards. "I had already picked these out. And to explain the rules," he trails off, eyeing everyone and shuffling the cards. "Don't worry, Angel. They're quite easy to understand."
Hongjoong begins, "there are less severe penalties for when you fail to match the colour of the cards in the discard pile, or when you draw a card from the draw pile."
"There's a strip penalty when the person before you throws a draw two or draw four in," San says from next to you, "you have to take a shot when you get a wild card from the person before you. And as Hongjoong said, the less severe penalties are truth or dare, and kiss a player, with tongue."
You reel back, repeating his words in your mind, "kiss a player, you guys are okay kissing each other?"
"I've frenched all of them if you're wondering, except for Yunho because I'm not his 'type'." Wooyoung says, passing two bottles of beer to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, "besides, we all have different sexual preferences. It doesn't matter to us."
You nod along, noticing how quiet Mingi had been from the start. He has a problem with you, doesn't he? You heave out a sigh and grin, "alrighty. I understood the rules, so can we start?"
"Aww, are you forgetting about me, Angel?" Yunho's voice ridicules you, followed by his footsteps as he sits next to you. "I'm hurt," he pouts, taking his food container from San as Wooyoung passes it to him. "I'm devastated, really. I hold no significance to you, do I?"
You look at him, cheeks heating up instantly when you catch him staring back at you smugly; the outfit he changed into was far more fitting to his personality than the one he had before. He was wearing a matching red hoodie with Mingi, and black jogger shorts. You notice how well his blue hair contrasted with the hoodie, finding it cute the way some of his strands kissed the collars and hid beneath the hood. His skin was flushed, yet as fair as snow—and his scent was driving you wild. A miasma of musk, cinnamon and vanilla. You were losing your mind sitting next to him.
Though, when you come back to your senses, you realise he's being dramatic. Overly dramatic. You roll your eyes and continue eating, shaking your head as a sly smile stretches your lips. Jongho catches up on your interaction with him, side eyeing you while acknowledging nothing.
"There's too many of you, it's hard to keep up with everyone," you snide at Yunho, your smirk widening. "So, excuse me if I tend to forget 'bout some of you."
"Oh Angel, I'm quite unforgettable, you know," Yunho jeers, sneakily pinching your waist. He leans closer to your ear, whispering under his breath, "but sadly you'll have to wait the night until I show how you much of an exceptional man I am."
"Keep dreaming..." you lean toward him and murmur, "you're really confident in your skills, aren't you? Can't wait to prove you wrong."
"I think I've already proven myself to you the night you—"
"—ahem. I think we should start with the game." Mingi clears his throat, purposely keeping it loud enough for the two of you to pull apart. "I don't know about Yunho, but I've got an early class tomorrow."
"Oh come on, Mingi," Yunho whines, "I'm making a benign effort to be friends with Angel. She seems cool."
Jongho begins, rolling his eyes, "oh, she is. I've already narrated of her tales to you."
Was he sarcastic? You couldn't tell.
Hongjoong sighs, his voice booming, "enough, I can't go on a day without either of you jabbering at each other." Staring at Wooyoung, he calls out, "just deal the cards, Woo."
Soon the cards are dealt and each of you receive seven cards; the games go on, filled with whines, groans, cheers and derisive comments. In the first few rounds, you lose your socks, lucky. Jongho loses his sweatshirt, but he wore a full sleeved shirt under it; Wooyoung was only in his boxers, and you knew Yeosang and Mingi had it planned all along. San, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were borderline drunk to the number of shots they were forced to take. Mingi and Yunho were fully dressed, and neither too drunk because of the shots—although Yunho kept leaning over to your side to whisper filthy things in your ear. You were mostly on guard against him, praying to your own soul to keep San from listening to any of his coquettish remarks.
The current round you were stuck in was supposedly the last round of the night according to Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Surprisingly, everyone agreed to their judgement and no one riposted against them. It shows how influential those two were, and you found that extremely hot. You had two cards in your hand, all of them predicting your victory—that is only if San doesn't snitch on you and makes it hard for you to win. In all likelihood, everyone around you wants you to lose, that's how the game works.
You hold your breath, watching San take his turn after Wooyoung, and all hell comes crashing down onto you when he flicks a draw two on the discarded pile.
Oh no.
You have to strip.
He was saving his best card for the last, which makes his attempt at drawing more cards have a lot more sense. You sigh, dropping your cards down and slouching your shoulders.
"Strip, Angel," Yunho rejoices, nudging your shoulder with his.
"Yes, strip, strip, strip, strip..." Wooyoung chants and the others follow him, except for Mingi, Hongjoong and Seonghwa.
Seonghwa clears his throat, silencing everyone. "You don't have to if you're uncomfortable, Angel."
You shake your head, all the alcohol (especially, the vodka and beer) buzzing in your mind and coerced you to do the unthinkable. You find the hem of your crop top, fingers pinching at the very edge; with a ribald smile on your face, you pull your top over your head and fling it across towards Jongho. He catches it in one of his hands, as his other hand held onto a bottle of beer. These were the consequences of you not keeping a count of how many beers you had guzzled while playing and interacting with San. If your hazy memory serves you right, then San is a bartender and thanks to him showing you how to drink beer and vodka, you were woozy.
Some of the guys whistle at your exposed chest, while some avert their eyes and cover them with the palm of their hand. Yunho wasn't one of the guys to turn a blind eye on you; he stared. Being taller than you gave him an advantage at peeking over your shoulder and since you were slouched, the cups of your bra dangled slightly off—exposing a lot of your deal than you thought. He gulped lightly upon drinking in your curves, and the way your lacy bra hugged your tits—he was drooling at the sight, imagining what it would be like to grope and hold them. They actually seemed perfect for his hands—perfect to knead and suck.
"Angel is a wild one," Wooyoung mumbles lowly, looking away in haste as he realises he had been staring. "Wilder than me, to be honest."
"What?" you shrug, "a draw two means strip. I stripped."
"Yes, but we didn't think you'd actually do it," Jongho hisses through his gritted teeth, crawling the space across to drape his sweatshirt over you.
To your undivided attention, and bewilderment, Jongho belonged to the ones who were caught staring at you; which also included San, and Mingi.
Yunho clicks his tongue, "I certainly did not expect that, certainly did not."
Jongho scoffs at Yunho's reaction and returns back to his place, "no one expected that."
You pout, tugging the ends of Jongho's sweatshirt over your head to cover yourself. "It was fun, though."
You were starting to think it was alcohol talking in your stead.
"Alright, alright," Hongjoong draws everyone's attention, even yours, "like I said, this was supposedly the last round, so let's call it a night. And, Angel," he pauses, perusing your tipsy face, "I think you should stay the night, you're inebriate, regardless not a lot to misguide yourself to your dorm room alone at night. But it's not safe for you to leave in your current state of mind. So, please spend the night here."
You wanted to protest, but then you realised you stayed outside way past the timings of your dormitories, meaning, you'll have to spend the night here and somehow manage to sneak in tomorrow morning.
"Okay..." you nod.
Seonghwa adds, "you can sleep in my bedroom, it has a joint bathroom. Plus it is spacious and has a comfortable bed." he gets up from the couch, keeping his empty bottle of beer down on the carpet, "come on, I'll show you to my room."
You nod again, stumbling up on your feet as you take small strides toward him.
"Okay, whose duty is it to clean tonight?" you hear Hongjoong ask, followed by Mingi's and San's groans. He continues, "clean up before you go to bed, lads. Good night."
A couple of whines resound from behind you as Seonghwa leads you down the hallway to his bedroom. The wooden door has a board hung on it, which reads 'do not disturb' with a much tinier font written below it, 'knock twice in case of emergency'. It makes you wonder of the shenanigans which have occurred in this house. The wooden door opens smoothly inside and you're ushered inside a very neat and clean room.
"I did not get much time to clean around after coming back from work," he apologises, leading you further in.
You did not understand why he was apologising, his room was spotless with no unnecessary mess around. Rummaging your curious eyes through his room, you notice a lot of things; there's a window on the wall opposite to the entrance overlooking the Main Street, a queen size bed was pushed to the side of the room, and right below the window was a small desk with his MacBook on top alongside few other things arranged in a precise order. As said, there was a door to the left, where the bathroom was situated. Overall, the room was elegant with debonair decorations and furniture—nothing about it foretold you it was a man's room.
"To be fair, I'd be put to shame if you saw my dorm room." Muttering under your breath, you slump on the bed and watch Seonghwa's lips twitch into a smile.
"It's okay," he whispers, heading to his closet, which was adjacently placed to the bed. "I understand, you're a full time college student—trust me, my room used to be a mess too. It can't be that bad. Right?"
You grumble and throw yourself back on the mattress, it sinks to your weight and relaxes every muscle of your body. "I think I should call you over sometime. You could see it for yourself. Maybe, help me clean."
"Wouldn't mind that," he chuckles, his footsteps receding to you. "Here, change into something comfortable."
Sitting up straighter, you watch him hand you an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. "There was no need for this."
"And there is no need for your formalities," he offers you a toothy grin. "Sleep wearing something light. I don't think your current outfit is all that comfortable."
"Alright." you mumble, waiting for him to take your leave before you could change.
"Sleep well," he sings, his smile crinkling the corner of his eyes as he does.
Turning on his heel he's almost out through the door when you ask, "where will you be sleeping? The couch? I'm sorry for that..."
"Couch? No. That place is a little ill-at-ease," he laughs, "but, I'll be sleeping with Hongjoong, he's got a bigger bed. And, you don't have to be sorry. What kind of men we'd be if we let you go to your dorms at the dead of night. Right? It's better if you stay and leave in the morning, I'll have Jongho or someone drop you off."
You nod along, butterflies in your stomach coming alive to his words. Chivalry wasn't dead, after all. But the thought of you spending the night here, with Yunho fixated on fucking you, might be the most exhilarating thing ever. Although, you were starting to catch those same fuzzy feelings for Seonghwa—thinking about the kind of man he'd be in bed. The sweet one, showering you with praises, being a soft dom, and all other things which you shouldn't be thinking about him.
"Good night, Angel."
He snaps you out of your dreams, bringing you to the reality.
"Good night, Seonghwa."
A smile fleets behind on your face when he leaves. The door closes with a soft thud, and you sigh, preparing yourself to change into the clothes he gave you. Quickly, you slip out of clothes and into the oversized shirt; for some reason you didn't feel the need to wear the shorts. Actually, the reasons were pretty obvious. Folding your clothes, you keep them on the desk and lay back in the bed. You heave out another breath and decide to surf through the internet, checking your socials, and other things. You're too dazed reading your department's group chat to even hear the sound of a knock on your door for the first time. When the knocks sound for the second time, even louder than before, you flinch and your phone slips off your grip; rolling your eyes as your heart tries to compose itself from the little jumpscare, you hop off the bed and saunter to the door to answer it.
You open the door a slit, only for it to be pushed aside by a burly man to make his way in. It was Yunho, you knew it from the all-too-familiar sounding grunt as you're pushed against the door in a blink of an eye. Trapped, he places one hand on your waist and the other next to your face, pressing his body with yours and forcing you back into the door.
"I told you, didn't I?" he murmurs leaning in, his breath tickles your face as he continues, "I said I'd be true to my words and here I am."
You close your eyes for a hot second, wanting to compose the fire flamed in your heart by his words; most precisely, by his darkened eyes staring right into your soul.
"Never doubted you," you grin, sliding your hands along his back and to his neck. Wrapping them around, you pull yourself close, your lips hovering a few whispers from his. "But the thing is, are you going to do what you intended on doing from the moment we started this, with all your flatmates around? Aren't you worried they might hear us?"
"I couldn't care any less about them," he smirks, brushing his lips against yours, "are you trying to get out of this? You were the one to start it, princess."
His voice is low, as he continues, "the shameless teasing with this raunchy outfit and the stripping, plus the unwanted provocation...do I need to say anything more?"
Shaking your head, you nudge your lips to touch his; he was taken off guard at first, but the moment he realised what you were doing, he grew wild. An untamed kiss broke out between you two, lips lapping and sucking in an unquenched desire. Both of his hands tug at your waist, causing your shirt to lift up slightly.
He mumbles against your lips but doesn't break the kiss. "Only a tee? God, you are such a tease."
And he's diving back into the kiss. It started off so innocent with only a mere touch, delicate yet hungry in way; but you didn't think it'd escalate so quickly into a pining war between your tongues. His warm tongue rubbed with yours, tackling it down to reach down your throat. You moan, not only because of the fact that his tongue was indisputably plunging down your throat, but also because he had traced one of his hands down your waist to the dainty band of your panties. Feeling him smirk against your lips, your stomach ties itself in a knot, realising he was about to something very odious to arouse you. Though, the kiss had already made you wet, your slick soaking into your panties.
One finger slips past the waistband, softly snapping it as he drags to your wet slit; you were melting in the heat his mouth offered, his tongue showing no signs of stopping at what it was doing. You were breathless, you wanted air, you wanted to breathe and peruse his flushed face. Seemingly suffocating, you tilt your head slightly behind to take a deep breath, your lungs filling in with much needed air—while he shows you his conceited smile, his eyes half-lidded from the pleasure he got after abusing your mouth.
"Tired already?" he bites his lower lip, rubbing his long finger along your slit and you moan, not registering what he says next. "This is just the beginning, princess."
He buries his head in your neck, lips scattering kitten like kisses on your skin and trailing further down your collarbones. The yearning was taking you to a different level of desperate, his ravenous touches were working so well to rile you up and you were so sure you could come undone with only his middle finger thrusting into your cunt. In your hazy mind you were lost, closing your eyes, you throw your head back against the door and try to breathe normally—because his sleek finger was stroking your slit vigorously.
This was maddening. And you weren't holding back. "Fuck, Yunho...just fuck me already. Please."
You whimper as the walls of your cunt clench around nothing in utter torment while his middle finger only caressed your slit and nothing else.
"No, princess. Nuh-uh," he hisses, now pressing his thumb on your clit and moving it in a circular motion. "Not so fast. You won't be getting anything more than this—fuck—fuck—" he grunts in his own anguish, "—a dirty slut like you should be punished for wanting everyone's attention on you. Isn't that—fuck, isn't that why you took your top off, hmm? For everyone to fucking take a look, for them to drool on your perky little tits."
You whine, stuttering, "no—no—I only—I only did it because—because those were the rules—fuck, Yunho...just, please—please..."
Mind fogging with unlikely possibilities of him actually giving it to you, made your tongue heavy. You couldn't form sentences in your head, let alone voice them for yourself.
"So, so, so hopeless."
Yunho clicks his tongue, using his other hand to lift the loosely hanging tee up to your chest; his hand quickly cups one of your tits and eventually, he's groping it with his fingers digging in your flesh. His mouth sucks beautiful bruises along your neck, while his finger and thumb keep working on your wet cunt.
"God, I caught Jongho and Mingi staring at these taut little things," he murmurs, licking your skin as he keeps sucking purple bruises, "and I gotta say, I wasn't too fond of it—fond of their eyes lurking anywhere near you. Just thinking about it—ugh—can't even get myself to think about it."
"I didn't—" you groan, "—I didn't think you'd be the jealous type—fuck!"
All air is knocked out of your lungs as soon as he lets his middle finger slip into your cunt; your walls squelch, causing more of your juices to drip down your thighs.
"Oh, you really don't know me yet," he slyly whispers, keeping the pace of his finger teasingly slow inside you.
Detaching his lips from your neck, he stares down at you with a lilting smirk, one ever so gravely etched in a nettlesome curve. His hazel eyes show a spark of ardour, seemingly growing into a soft murmur of feral desires. You crack your eyes open, fluttering your lids heavily as the pleasure of his finger drives you to your edge; you were getting weak in your knees—your body could go limp any moment if he continues to tease your cunt this slow. Sliding your hands down his neck, you hold onto his shoulders and heave out a breath, chaotic and painful.
"Would you like to know me better, princess?" he breathes his words out, sneering as he glances down at his finger thrusting in and out of you. "...I'm sure we'd get along just fine."
"I don't doubt that either," you smirk at him, impatiently waiting for him to add another finger in you.
When you knew, he wasn't going to do anything more than finger your cunt teasingly, you start bucking your hips into his hands, hoping it'd make his finger plunge deep into you. The squelch of your walls is loud this time, resonating in the empty room as it soon merges with his chuckle. Yunho draws in an amusing breath, tittering at your messed up persona, and desperation.
He clicks his tongue, bringing his finger out of you altogether; the emptiness was lot worse than having only one of his sleek finger in. Maybe, you shouldn't have been so desperate for him. You couldn't blame yourself; it was evident from that night itself that you yearned for him, all of him. Keeping his stare on you, he brings his finger, the one which was plunging deep into your cunt, close to his mouth and darts his tongue out. His middle finger glistens with your juices around it, so unbelievably fucking attractive but nothing prepared you for what he did next; he licked and lapped his tongue all over his finger, humming in satisfaction as he tastes you.
"Sweet and salty, just like my little slut," he smirks, teeth trapping his bottom lip in, "can't wait to fuck that cunt with my tongue—it'd be fucking perfect."
You don't make a sound, simply because his words were giving you a sensory whiplash and depriving you from any fraction of sanity at all. He lets his other hand slip from your chest, tracing it to your neck to grab your throat. His fingers dug in the sides, leaving faint bruises as he brought you close to him; in a blink of an eye, his lips were back on yours, tasting your desperation and teasing your lower lip with a sharp tug of his teeth.
"Yun..." you murmur against his lips, absorbing the vibrations of his chuckle as he pulls back to address, "princess, you are not getting me so easily. I can play hard to get, and I always have."
You are a little annoyed by his attitude, his conceited slapdash personality was an antithetical factor to his charisma and chivalry. He shakes his head, in disbelief, as if he had read your mind when you were thinking about his pomposity.
Clicking his tongue, he pecks your lips, "no, princess, I'm not conceited. I'm just...returning the favour."
You're muddled, not comprehending what he was hinting at. And considering that, he slightly rolls his eyes, while his other hand ghosts over your lower abdomen and grabs the waistband of your panties. Not giving you any sign of his intentions, he uses his mere strength to pull the panties up your waist. The material of your lacy panty chafes with your wet folds as he pulls and continues to do so until you're writhing with tickles on your spine.
"Fuck—that feels good, but—I want you." you mewl in such ache, craving everything of him, "I need you."
"Like, I said, I'm returning the favour, princess," he softly lets out a laugh, stroking his thumb along your windpipe, "consider this a bestowal of all the pleasure you can get from me. Because..."
His teasing tone is back, infuriating you—tears well in the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as you whimper, "because...?"
"Because I can't let a slut like you get what she wants by deftly ribbing me in front of my flatmates," he states, his hold on your throat tightening, while he pulls your panties further up.
The overbearing sensation of your panties rolling up and slotting into your wet slit makes your skin crawl in pleasure. It was unbearable at this point, the rigorous friction of the material and your soaked cunt.
"I need to teach my whore a lesson, don't I? And that's what she's going to get tonight. A punishment for provoking me in front of my flatmates and being an attention whore," he smiles haughtily, pulling himself back completely before stepping away from you.
His warmth was gone, so was his touch which drove you away into your insanity, and all you were left with was an abysmal hollowness full of chagrin and hankering. Taking another step back, he shrugs while you lean back against the door to recollect your shattered pieces—you were trying to relax yourself after all that he had done to make your pussy drip uncontrollably.
"My precious little princess should try to get some sleep for the night," he smiles, coming close to you again but only to caress your cheek with his thumb. "Trust me, princess, my package will be worth the wait."
"Good night, Angel."
He presses his lips lightly to your cheek and pushes you carefully to the side to leave the room. The moment he dashes out the room, you wait for his footsteps to quiet down the hallway before you're sliding down against the door and groaning out in frustration as you lay on the floor like a crumpled paper. This was too much! Too much! You do remember him mentioning he was a tease from your night of sexting, but you didn't believe him—not until he was teasing you to hell and back. You could consider this as borderline torture which in turn was making you wonder if his dick was really worth all this torment.
Although, as he left the room, you caught a glimpse of his cock straining against his jogger shorts—the outline was clear, and that clarity was enough to push you back in your delusions and fantasises. Regardless, it also meant how badly you had him riled too, you got him hard, got him to masturbate before he goes to bed—it was obvious he would jerk off to your thoughts, and that passing notion was undoubtedly making you even wetter. You heave out a sigh as you pick yourself up and carry your trembling body to the edge of the bed. Settling down comfortably with your legs open wide, you pull the hem of your shirt and trap it between your teeth. Exposed, and free from the shirt, you drag one of your hands down your chest, purposely pushing the cups of your bra aside to let your tits hang outside. Your mind rutted with lascivious thoughts of Yunho playing with your tits, cupping them, groping them, kneading them, all the things you wanted him to do, maybe a little more which would cause your dignity to falter in front of him.
You moan out loud, but it's muffled by the shirt in your mouth; you were senselessly pinching your nipple, all while tracing your other hand to your cunt. Pushing the panties (now ruined by your arousal) to a side, you ghost your fingers over your clit, gradually touching your swollen bud to feel the ecstasy take over you. Throwing your head back to the sensation, you let out a whimper; soon, the image of Yunho licking his middle finger flashes in your mind, making you moan again. You do what he was doing a minute prior, stroke the length of your own middle finger along your slit. Your mouth stays open this time instead, but your shirt doesn't roll all the way down because your hand, playing with your tits, obstructed it from doing so.
Somehow, in the darker light of your mind, you're fixated on that burning scenario of Yunho rubbing his tongue along his finger to rid it of your juices. At first, you wonder, and then glimmer in joy, nevertheless that fleeting moment is cut short when you realise an odd detail about him. If his middle finger was that long, then how huge would his cock be? That cascading thought itself makes you shiver, and you start rubbing yourself faster; not caring if the sounds you made were discernible and audible to the others in the apartment. Seemingly, your noises were growing louder, and you were getting closer to your edge. Dropping your hand from your chest to your side, you fist your hand into the sheets, and ease your finger into your cunt. Again, the wetness makes your walls squelch and your action makes a popping sound.
Keeping a steady pace at first, you thrust the upper part of your middle finger in, then gradually moving the entire finger inside. Once you were comfortable, you increase the pace of your thrusts and mutter out a sweet string of moans, incoherent and dumb. You close your eyes, screw them tight for tears to stream down the side of your face; you're driven to a point of lunacy where all you could think about was Yunho fucking you with his finger. However, one finger wasn't enough for that, so you add in another, your ring finger this time. Both of your fingers rhythmically slide in and out of your cunt, letting your flesh slop and your juices make a mess of them.
Your grip on the sheets tightens, enough for your knuckles to turn white. Your eyes are shut, reveling the pleasure your fingers gave you, while your chest heaved up and down uncomfortably, trying to fathom the suffocation brought by your eerily palpitating heart. Lost in your jolly world of fantasies, where all you could think of was Yunho, you don't hear a soft knock sounding on the door of your room. Although, the person standing on the other side of the door had heard your moans and groans clearly. Yep, this man had heard you, and knows you're masturbating, yet he gulps to himself and scours a little bit of courage to enter the room.
He twists the doorknob and pushes the door inside; second after second, the door cracks open and reveals bits of you, the bed, your legs wide open and your hand between them, to him. Drooling at the sight for what his momentary mind could capture, he clears his throat to snap you out of your daze. Your heart beats slow, adrenaline rushing through and through when you open your eyes to meet with the familiar man standing a step closer to the door.
"Seonghwa..." you gasp, quickly pulling your shirt down to cover to exposed legs, and everything in between them—you hold your hand out to a side, wet and glistening with your juices all over them.
He clears his throat yet again, "Angel, what—well, don't stop."
You're taken off guard by his silly eyes lurking on yours, his lips curling deliriously into a smirk; leaving you to fend for his words, he trudges to his desk and carries the chair to set it in front of you. In utter disbelief, you watch him sit on the chair, spreading his legs wider in front of you, giving you the glimpse of the gradually forming tent in his pants. He unbuttons a few buttons on the top of his shirt, pulling the collars apart to expose a little of his tanned and toned chest.
"Don't stop?" you gawk, slightly breathless.
"I'm sorry if my sudden intrusion made you halt your..." he pauses, eyes trailing down your face to your chest, and legs. "...I wouldn't mind if you were to put on a show for me. Maybe, we could help each other out later on."
You were stumbling in your own mind to regard his words, even if you were past the point of acting on your rationality, this proposition of his was beyond tempting. Unlikely, you'd then have to be embarrassed to have masturbated in front of him too—especially since you and Yunho had shared that sensual call the other night. Everything is a standpoint of your dilemma, whether you should give in to your impulses, and act on your desires or not. After all, contemplating and accepting the reality of your sybaritic situation would precisely put you in a rough place with Yunho if he were to ever find out about your and Seonghwa's deal.
"But..."
"But?" Seonghwa repeats, "there are no buts, sweetheart. Though, to sate my curiosity, I'd like to ask you something."
You nod your head, your cheeks warm and red, hazy from all that's happened in the span of mere minutes.
"What got you all worked up, or rather, who?" you purse your lips together, unable to answer him. And he continues taking your silence as the testimony. "Was it anyone amongst us, or all of us? I saw Yunho leave this room a while before I made my way here. Was it him?"
You nod again, and he chuckles, "guess, Hongjoong owes me fifty bucks now."
Taking offence, you narrow your eyes at him; he shakes his head and enunciates more clearly, "no one's betting on you, sweetheart. It's just...during the game, I saw a few sparks fly between you two. As it made Jongho a little envious, it gave me an insight to your dynamic with Yunho. Surprisingly, he was as cheerful as he was that night—I suppose it was the night he was talking to you, wasn't it? Anyway, me and Hongjoong, a few minutes prior now when Yunho disappeared from the living room, construed a harmless wager."
"Are you all alike?"
"Alike as in, similar to Yunho?" he shakes his head in amusement, "oh, darling. We're anything but alike to that brat."
You don't know what it was about him, maybe that simple of nudge of his head as he satirically insulted Yunho, or the lax foreboding smile which offered you a sight of his sharp canines. There was something about Seonghwa which was making you want him more now—more than Yunho, to be precise. Although, when the remnant of your rationality sticks to your mind, you knew the attraction was simply because you had been played with and left high and dry by Yunho. You were too desperate to feel something in between your legs, literally anything at all—and as demeaning and belittling that is, even to yourself, you couldn't help but weigh your judgment down to Seonghwa's side.
You put on a show for him, he enjoys it while jerking himself off, and later on you get what you wanted all along. Sounds simple. Right? Maybe.
As you're lost in your thoughts, the never-ending brooding of the current situation, Seonghwa turns weary and tilts his head to a side. He licks his lips and asks, presumably snapping you out of your reverie. "Angel, I don't want you doing anything that you're uncomfortable with."
At the shift of his personality, you pout, shaking your head to convey your words. "I'm not uncomfortable with...this. Only, I wonder what it would be like with us if we were to, you know."
Your shoulders flinch, and he sighs, crossing his legs and leaning back into the chair. He smiles softly, "the solution is as straightforward as it can be, Angel."
"I'm not looking for a relationship, however," you whisper, undermining your own words as you come to that conclusion. "If that is what you were about to suggest."
"Relationships aren't really my thing either," he replies, a sly smile on his face, "we keep this exclusive to sex. I'm assuming Yunho put forth a much similar bargain."
You nod, "he did. And I was anticipating he'd..." Seonghwa's brow cocks up in astonishment, "...I anticipated he'd let things get steamy between us tonight. It's the reason why he had been texting me, convincing me to come."
"So, you came here for his dick?" Seonghwa laughs, not in a debasing manner, it was more of an amused laugh. "I understand, but I've been thinking you only decided to come because you didn't want to hurt Jongho's feelings."
"You're not in the wrong," you sigh, "I wanted to be a better friend to him too, but all the while Yunho had been pestering me, teasing me with his semi-nudes...okay, why are we talking about this? Shouldn't we just get done with it as quickly as possible?" you realise you had spoken too much.
Seonghwa shrugs it off, "Angel, I said I wouldn't want you doing anything which would cause you discomfort."
"And I said I'm okay with it."
Smirking, you lift your shirt back up, showing off your completely drenched panties and your sheeny cunt. Tired of pushing your panties to the side, you decide to take them off and once you've rid yourself of them, you spread your legs for his perusal before dipping your hand in between them. You resume your actions, plunging your middle and ring finger into your cunt—to your unbridled desire, your fingers slip in too easily because of the number of times of you were aroused.
"Oh dear, Angel," Seonghwa grunts, palming his crotch through his pants.
You smirk at his utterance and glance up, glazing your eyes over him as his legs are back to being spread wide in front of you, while his hand is busy stroking his cock through his pants. He bites his lower lip, giving you an encouraging nod to increase your pace; throwing your head back, your jaw slacks open when you start thrusting your fingers deep in you. The walls of your cunt quell around your fingers—the feeling reels you back to your sense of salaciousness, forcing you to increase your pace. Seonghwa's groans soon fill in the room, blending in too perfectly with your moans as you continue to finger yourself.
Seonghwa, seemingly too tired of rubbing himself through his pants, unbuttons, unzips, and tugs them down to pull his fully hard cock out. You watch him wrap his hand along the tip at first, stroking it softly with his fingers as he gradually drags his hand down along the shaft. Precum glisters on the tip of his cock, and along the length of it; and the more he pumps his cock, the more of his arousal leaks from his tip. Trapping his bottom lip in the grasp of his teeth, he prevents any vile sounds to slip from his mouth. And wanting to do the same, you clasp your free hand over your mouth but fail to do so when your mind loses every inch of control. It doesn't work as it should, because your hand is sliding down to your chest, to play around with your taut nipples.
"You're so pretty, Hwa," the comment slides out of your mouth with such ease that you don't even realise you had said it. "You look so pretty like this, stroking your cock to me fingering myself."
Again, you didn't know where you got the confidence to speak.
He chuckles softly, which mixes with his grunt as he increases the pace of his hand around his cock. "My Angel dearest, I think the sight—the—the sight of my cock—my cock thrusting into that tight little cunt of your—yours, might be the prettiest—prettiest sight of all."
His stutter was absolutely driving you insane; not just the way he stumbled his with his words, but also the way he was pumping his cock vigorously to the thought of that. Holding his shirt up by his other hand, preventing it from getting ruined, he tightens his hand around his cock, keeping a steady pace.
"Then why don't we see it—"
Thud!
The door closes shut, startling both of you as you freeze in your places. You focus your attention to the door, but Seonghwa doesn't really bother to look behind; and from the way he smirked, it was evident to you that he knew who had just arrived. It wasn't a surprise to you either, because somewhere in your heart, you were waiting for him to come.
"Tch, what an alluring sight my eyes behold," Yunho clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest and steps ahead to stand behind Seonghwa. "Let's say, I'm not all too confounded with your behaviour, 'Hwa. But I certainly did not expect my princess to acquit herself from her punishment."
His condescending tone was back, and very much alluring; his way of degrading you never gets boring, it's always tipping you off to your extremity. Yunho steps past Seonghwa and stands right in front of you. His gaze penetrates through your ruse, causing you to shiver as you sit straighter and composed, a little stoic to his advances maybe. You're not so much tolerant when you drag your eyes down to his body, his buff chest at first, then his bulging arms folded on his chest, and lastly, you're spanning your eyes across his abdomen and crotch. His shorts are confining his boner, sadly so, the outline of his cock makes you drool and imagine of the sensation you'd get from him filling you up.
"Eyes up here, princess."
You whimper, "Yunho, I can explain."
"Shush," he presses his index finger on your lips and glances back at Seonghwa over his shoulder, "it turns out my precious princess can't control herself. Why don't we teach her a little discipline?"
Seonghwa smirks, as if he had caught up on Yunho's intentions already. "Only if she's okay with us ruining her."
"Oh, a whore like her would certainly enjoy herself being fucked by both of us, would she not?" he brings his hand down to your throat and squeezes it, grunting as he brings you close to his face, "right, princess? Want to be filled with both of our cocks, right? Be nothing but a cum-slut for both of us...hmm?"
You nod your head, murmuring, "yes, yes...I want to be filled—be filled with both of you...use me as your..."
"So, so, so hopeless," Yunho tuts in pity. "I think you should take the fron—"
"—I'm in no mood today, Yun," Seonghwa interrupts him, getting up from the chair with his pants pulled over, as he strides across to stand next to Yunho. His eyes darken, a wretched curl taking its shape on his lips. "But, I would like to see what this pretty mouth can do."
You groan in such desperation, feeling his thumb caress your lower lip till he's tugging it down for you to open your mouth a little wider.
"Don't expect much, Hwa," Yunho grumbles, pulling his red hoodie over his head and discarding it down on the floor. He wears nothing under it, though, and you start checking out his toned upper body with your blurry eyes. "This mouth knows nothing but to complain and whine. Maybe yap around a bit and haul foul words at others."
Seonghwa chuckles and holds your jaw instead, thumb pressing down on your chin to do what he had been trying to do; getting your mouth to open wide. And maybe he was trying to get your attention off of Yunho.
"I better not believe him, Angel. Show me what you can do."
"Hmm," your eyes are back on Seonghwa, "I can—"
He doesn't let you finish your words leans down to kiss you. A mere contact of your lips inflames your heart into a fiery pit of despair, and you're kissing him back with much intensity. Your lips lap, collide, and suck, while he's too busy trying to drag his tongue into your mouth. He does it soon, however. His tongue caresses your lips at first, then as your widely opened mouth lets him in, he's scraping his tongue across your teeth and tackling yours into a soft brawl. Your eyes flutter close to the sensation of his warm and rough tongue rubbing with yours, delving down deep in your throat as his hands are now cupping your face.
Meanwhile, Yunho is certainly bewildered to watch his friend suck your mouth off, at the same time, an uncurbed tremor of jealousy aches his heart. Yet, he watches the two of you, observes how Seonghwa's hands were caressing your cheeks, how his tongue was shoving itself down your throat. To a certain degree of envy, he gives in and clears his throat, eventually pulling at Seonghwa's collar to break you apart.
"Jealous much?" Seonghwa comments, which goes unacknowledged by Yunho who grunts at you, "I want you on all your fours. Now."
You gulp, struck with intimidation by his voice, and the ambiguous shade of grey in his eyes. Obliging to him, you slide back on the bed and get on your fours, facing the edge of the bed as you anticipated their next move. Yunho doesn't say anything and moves on about to situate himself behind you, meanwhile Seonghwa settles himself in front of you. You're in eye level with Seonghwa's cock, hard and leaking precum, it's tip laying flat against his stomach as he takes a minute to shrug his shirt off. His pants were already off when you were trying to get comfortable on your knees and hands on the bed.
The mattress dips to Yunho's weight behind you, giving you the obvious sign that he was upto something. To your apparent satisfaction, he pushed the hem of your shirt along your back to give him better access to your rear. The warmth of his hands caresses your buttcheeks, eventually dwindling down to your inner thighs as he pushes your legs further apart. He's mentally slobbering at the sight of your folds, all wet and glistening in their glory; his cock twitches at the thought of rubbing himself all over you before sliding into your warmth.
"So fucking wet already," Yunho grumbles, "probably doesn't even need me to prep this cunt before fucking it with my cock."
"Yun—fuck..."
You clench around nothing as you listen to him growl all those words under his breath. Seonghwa chortles, grabbing your jaw and guiding the tip of his cock to your mouth; he rubs it along your lips before he eases himself inside. Engulfed by your warmth, he groans softly and closes his eyes to relish the atypical sensation for first few seconds. He knows he'll get used to you in a little bit and so will you. You wrap your lips around him, as he continues to slide his cock in your mouth. Once he grows aware of how much him you can take in, he stops and entangles both of his hands in your hair instead, helping him to hold your head down.
"Hmmm," you moan around his cock, feeling the tip brush past your tongue and the walls of your throat. The saltiness from his precum is too evident on your tongue, but you swallow it down and focus on him.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good around me," Seonghwa's chest sounds a low gruff, glancing down at you through his half-lidded eyes. "You're doing so well, sweetheart. Hmm, I'll try to be gentle, okay?"
You nod, trying to pacify the sting at the corner of your lips from the way they were stretched around his cock. He doesn't push himself further than he already is and starts thrusting his cock into your throat. You merely gagged around the tip but held your breath. Seonghwa's lips remain parted, and his eyes remain shut, he was a moaning mess, subsiding to the warmth of your mouth rocking him in and out.
Yunho's jealousy knows no bounds, he's fuming inside as he watches Seonghwa fuck your mouth. Swiping the tip of his tongue over his upper lip, he smirks smugly and traces his fingers from your inner thighs to your folds, eventually to your slit. His fingers collect bits of your wetness before tucking them in your cunt; first it's the fingertips, gradually the entire length of his fingers are thrusting in and out of your cunt.
You're so out of it, buzzing with pleasure received on both sides. One, you weren't able to moan because of how deep Seonghwa was plunging his cock into your throat. Two, Yunho's fingers were curling in the deepest parts of your cunt, squelching around the flesh and making you squirm from time to time. Three, you knew Seonghwa's pace was picking itself up, but however you weren't sure if you'd be able to keep up with him.
Relentlessly, you fist your hands in the sheets underneath, holding onto them for your dear life because Seonghwa's hips were rutting into your face. Your mind was fogged by the way he rammed his cock in your throat, making you gag and choke while he guided you down by holding your head. His fingers were tangled in your hair, which eventually turns into a makeshift ponytail. You flatten your tongue toward the roof of your mouth, licking the underside of his shaft as he rapidly thrusted in and out.
"Dear sweet lord—fuck, Angel, don't stop—don't—don't stop doing that." He grumbles out, voiceless as he tries to catch a breath.
Tears are streaming down your face, as your nose scrunches up against his pubic bone and littlest of pubic hair, you're suffocating too, having lost the ability to breathe through your nose. Seonghwa's hips come to a halt, but doesn't really let you go—he likes the way your mouth is wrapped around him, likes the way your cheeks are hollowed and confined to his cock.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself, Hwa." Yunho pouts, "makes me regret to not have used her mouth before you..." his fingers are spreading you apart, stretching your walls to their limits. "Hmm, but doesn't matter anymore, I'll be the first to ruin this tight little thing."
With that being said, he flicks the direction of his wrist, bringing his fingers out only for a meagre second before he's thrusting them back in. He only did that to get his thumb in front, to toy with your clit as he presses down on it, eliciting a whine from you. Though, the vibrations of your whine are absorbed by Seonghwa's cock stuffed in your mouth, driving him wild. His thrusts resume, however, his pace picks up slowly but doesn't show any signs of faltering. Your jaw is slack and limp, already lethargic from taking him in.
"You're missing—you're missing out, Yun," Seonghwa's mumbles before bestowing his praises upon you, "you're doing so—doing so well, my dear. Such a good girl—good girl to take my cock—cock in without complaining. A little bit—little bit more..."
You have your eyes closed and mind shut down, the pleasure was unbearably long and everlasting till your body gave you enough strength to withstand their ministrations. At the way Yunho's fingers were moving in you, and brushing your sweet spot, you knew you wouldn't last long. The hot and vehement knot tightens itself in your stomach and wrenches your gut, preparing you for your climax. Your walls clench around Yunho's fingers, making him click his tongue as he pulls them out.
"Not so soon, princess." he sighs, quickly ridding himself of his shorts and briefs. "Not till you make a mess on my cock—fuck, this might—this might sting a bit."
He aligns the tip of his cock with you and rubs it along your slit before easing himself into your cunt bit by bit; your walls stretch to his girth, a tiny fire burning your skin as you whimper and wince. Although, Seonghwa's faltering thrusts try to distract you from the initial pain of Yunho's cock submerging into you—he is twitching in your mouth like crazy, knowing well he was close to his edge. You weren't so sure about your own orgasm, since you were already senseless to Yunho's cock plunging into you; and to your greater surprise, it was only the tip of his cock pounding into you. Yet he was driving you wild, his cock screwing itself so deep into you, and stretching you raw. Every time Yunho bucked his hips into yours, your body rolled into Seonghwa's, making your mouth slip further down on his cock and gag around your throat.
"Fuck, baby, gimme a min," Seonghwa mumbles and you nod slightly, causing him to pull out before you passed out of suffocation.
Taking a deep breath in through your mouth, you glance up at Seonghwa with teary eyes, finding sweat make his hair stick to his forehead and a few drops dribble down the sides of his head. You couldn't be too mesmerised by his beauty, because Yunho takes that time to ease himself fully into your cunt; his cock throbbing inside you, as his thrusts are fast paced and concise.
Seonghwa shares a look with Yunho before turning down to you, "take a deep breath, sweetheart..." he was breathless, yet he was able to pronounce each word with care and concern.
"Fuck, Yunho..." you mumbled under your breath, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Yunho's hips ram into yours. "You're—you're too fast—fuck—feels good, feels really—really good."
"Such a good slut, taking me in raw and making herself feel good with my cock," Yunho grunts.
"Yun—"
You couldn't thread your words together let alone voice them, and even if you could, Seonghwa wouldn't let you because he's already nudging the tip of his cock against your lips. Opening your mouth, as you're now used to his size, you wrap your lips around him; he keeps his pace slow this time, letting the tip of his cock poke your cheek as his thrust aren't well timed or rhythmical. Although, he's close, so close. He tightens his fingers in your hair, tugging at your strands as he pushes your head down on his cock—the warmth of your throat tips him off, and he twitches insanely before coming undone in your throat. His load trickles down, making you forcefully swallow it, tasting mild undertones of sweetness followed by the saltiness of his cum; he rides his high out with a few placid thrusts, filling your mouth with his cum. He only pulls out when he's sure he's emptied himself entirely into your mouth and when he does, he sighs and smiles down at you with a dazed look in his eyes.
"You did a great job, sweetheart. Made me cum with only your mouth, such a good and obedient slut," he pats your head, stroking your hair with his one hand as other one wipes the trickling drops of his cum from your lips. "Hmm, good girl."
He leans in to kiss you, humming in satisfaction as he tastes himself on your lips—though, out of nowhere he darts his tongue inside your mouth swallows a bit of his own cum, alleviating your struggle to swallow it whole. Pulling back, he groans softly and pushes himself off the bed completely. He gets dressed in no time, sparing no particular attention to you or Yunho, who's too busy hurling his cock into you.
"Clean up after you're done, Yun." He says one last time before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft thud.
You're brought to your senses then; the tight grip of Yunho's hands on your thighs which certainly has left dark bruises on your skin, the way his thrusts were proper yet short to prolong your orgasm, and the way weakness had taken over your body. Without warning, your hands give in, and you land face first into the mattress; however, Yunho clicks his tongue and groans softly before establishing a good grip on the back of your neck, pressing a little harder he lets his hand trace to the back of your head instead and his fingers entwine with your hair. He pulls your body up by tugging harshly on your hair, making you yelp and let out a small whine in protest. Your back is flushed against his chest, his thighs are hitching into yours, and his hands are all over you. One of his hands grabs your throat, choking you, while the other slithers under your shirt to grope your tits. Cupping them under your shirt, as they're already hanging out from your bra, he pulls on the tauten nipples, pinches them and rolls them between his forefinger and thumb; you moan, your mouth agape at the wild sensation It brought to you.
"How does it feel now, princess?" he grumbles, and you throw your head back resting it on his shoulder, "too much—too much—wanna cum."
Yunho hums, "as expected from my slut."
You nod to him, unable to force out words from your mouth, or even form them in your head. His thrusts pick up again, his hand drops from your chest and traces down to your clit; fingers rub down motions on your swollen bud, and you realise how sensitive you had gotten. Needless to say, every time he rolls his hips into yours, his cock plunges deep, so deep it tickles your gut—the tip of his cock was simultaneously abusing your sweet spot, nudging hard against the pit of your stomach. Bringing his hand to your lower stomach, he presses down, and your walls convulse immensely around his cock; you could really feel him in abdomen, sending all sorts of shivers down your spine.
"Fuck, being so deep in you, it's driving me crazy," he grumbles, "you feel me, princess? Feel my cock pound you good, huh?"
Again, you nod, profusely melting under the heat and sweat of your bodies—you were long gone to comprehend sanity at this point. He buries his head in your neck and sucks purple bruises all over your skin; they're going to be super evident in the morning, and you're going to get questionable looks from the others in the loft. Not that you thought you could get away with this, you were so sure the others were able to hear you, and that thought itself drove you into your diverting state of mind. It made you even wetter to know that others could hear you get fucked by Seonghwa and Yunho.
"Fuck—princess, use your words." Yunho flattens his palm on your pussy and gives it a slap, jerking you out of your daze and making you mumble, dumbfounded. The crass impact of his hand makes you cry and put your mind on ease knowing how full you were from his cock. You sob softly, feeling the pleasure take over you, "yes—yes, please, wanna cum so badly—wanna make a mess on—mess on your cock."
Yunho, satisfied with your response, supports your body against his with his hands on either side of your waist now; he pulls out and rams his cock back into you, keeping a steady pace before picking it up. You're definitely going to be left sore tomorrow, maybe deprived of your ability to walk even. His cock was reaching deep into you, knowing this angle was better to fuck and abuse your sweet spot. It doesn't take him long to bring that familiar tightness back in the pit your stomach—it twists your guts thinking how close you really were to your climax. In the room, along with your moans, and his grunts, the sound of your skin slapping against his also reverberated; every time he thrusted in, his hips would be in touch with yours for a mere second before he'd go back to dive deeper into you.
"Right, this tight—tight cunt only needs my cock to make a mess, doesn't it?" Yunho grunts close to your ear, steadying himself with his thrusts.
His words tip you off and you squeal, "yes, fuck—Yunho—Yunho—I'm going to..."
"Go on, princess."
Offering you few more long and sharp thrusts, which causes your wall to squelch and clench; without your notice, that tightness is coming undone. You let go of all the confines and your orgasm washes over you. Ironically, you really do make a mess on his cock, as it still keeps plunging into you. The warmth of your cum drips down your inner thighs, coating Yunho's thighs as well when he bucks his hips into yours. A sly smirk curves on his face, as he smacks his lips to the warmth of your juices dripping over his cock, squirting a bit around because of his thrusts.
"Oh, my princess, such a good slut. A bit more...a bit more, I'm close too," Yunho grunts close to your war, sloppily sliding in and out of you.
He was close, remotely, he usually lasts longer than this, but considering how tight your walls were around him, he had no choice but to push himself to his edge. You feel him twitch inside you, and your walls clench tightly around him; his hold on your waist goes tight as he pushes you down on the mattress—the lowered angle gave him a leverage and he continued slamming his cock into you at an animalistic pace for as long as he could. It takes him a while to get to his point, and before you know, the warmth of his cum is filling you up to your brim and dribbling past your hole. He rides out his high with a few more short and brief thrusts, digging his nails into your flesh to leave back minuscule crescents and breathes heavily, before sliding out and falling limp against your body.
You heave out a sigh, relaxing your body back into his, as your chest rises and falls; it takes the two of you a moment before Yunho lays you down on the bed and then rests himself next to you. Tiredness evident in the ragged breathing of his, he doesn't try to speak anything unless he's composed himself, and so do you—you press your lips together and lay in silence till your mind clears out and the post-orgasm clarity sinks in. You stare at the spotless ceiling above, listening to Yunho's hushed attempts at abating his breathing.
After a few minutes of silence, Yunho is the first to disrupt the tranquility between you two. "That was intense, quite something I did not anticipate."
"As much as I hate to agree, but I hadn't sucked a cock in a while. I feel my jaw slack and loose." you murmur, reminiscing your past sexual encounters with others; knowing no blowjobs had ever been so hard as this one. "Feels like I've lost the capability to talk, my throat feels sore too."
Yunho chuckles, turning to his side and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling himself close to your body, "Seonghwa usually prefers throat-fucking more to penetrating. You should be glad he wasn't as rough as he used to be with his past lovers." he shrugs, resting his head on your shoulder and inhales your scent, which apparently was a concoction of sex, sweat, a bit of Seonghwa's scent on you, and his too. "Don't worry, I'll make you a cup of hot tea, you'll feel better."
"Well, I'm taking you up on that, mister," you titter, leaning to the side to put your head on his. Seemingly pondering, you wrung your thoughts and initiate, "hey, umm, do you think—I'm not sure, but would you be comfortable if I..."
Your words dither to a whisper and Yunho's sighs, second guessing your notions and interrupting you, "you want to be with both of us, right?"
"After this, I don't think I can regard him as a friend," you grumble, whining softly, "I mean, I sucked his dick. That's something friends don't do."
Yunho heaves out a small breath, peeking up at you through his lashes as his hair sticks to his forehead from all the sweat. "Angel, I think we should discuss this tomorrow. With a fresh mind and refueled bodies. My thinking adeptness has left my mind. To be fair, all I can think about is actually pretty pathetic and many more sordid things which include you. So, it's better if we call it a night and talk it out tomorrow, hmm?"
Sighing, you nod to his suggestion and reassure him with a blink of your eyes. "Fine, I'll leave it for tomorrow."
"Good girl," Yunho chirps, "now, let's get you cleaned. Inside out. I don't want you knocking at my door after nine months showing up with a cute little spawn of my devilry."
"Shut up, you."
The rest of the night was pretty tame; Yunho helped you clean, inside out as he promised. Seonghwa's bathroom was far too spacious than he had sold to you, there was a bathtub, a shower and a completely secluded section where the toilet was. While you were relaxing in the hot bath in the tub, prepared for you by Yunho, he took a quick shower and proceeded to change the sheets of the bed. Once you were well scrubbed and washed, he wiped you dry and slipped his hoodie over your body. He got dressed only in his shorts and the two of you then cuddled each other to sleep.
As the night dawned to a new morning, you kept thinking about the events of the night—the sinister impulses you had given into and the reverting cataclysmic effects to your dynamic with Yunho and Seonghwa. Though, Yunho did say they'd talk it out in the morning, but maybe you were worried for that morning to come. Regardless of your overthinking, the night passes you quick, your mind waking up from its slumber at the exact moment when the bright rays of sun cascaded in the room.
You open your eyes to a bright white light, squinting them to the golden glow of the sunshine; you murmur in a daze, a sleepy daze of yours as you urged yourself to go back to sleep. Groaning softly, you stretch your arms out and feel an empty void next to you. Yunho was no longer sleeping by your side. You pout and try to disregard the bitter feeling in your mouth. Gently and eagerly biting back sobs whenever your sore hips, thighs and back, inflicted pain upon your body, you get yourself off the bed and slip into the shorts which Seonghwa had offered you last night. The same ones you refused to wear since you were on tenterhooks for Yunho's cock. Stifling a yawn, you wash your face in the bathroom, pat it dry and make sure all your sleep is gone before heading out to the kitchen.
"There she is," you hear a muffled chirping from a familiar voice, "good morning, Angel."
"G'morning."
You rub the remaining sleep from your eyes and focus your blurry gaze onto the said man; you find Yunho sitting on the chair of the dining table, alongside Hongjoong, with Yeosang and Jongho sitting opposite to them, their back facing you. Meanwhile, you also heard faint sizzling of pan coming from the kitchen and only assumed someone was cooking breakfast for the others. Not having a clue about the time, you murmur incoherently under your breath and paddle your way across to the table.
Hongjoong offers you a small smile, as you settle down next to Jongho, "good morning, Angel. I hope you slept well, more than well perhaps."
You choke on your saliva, gazing up at him and then at Yunho. "Uh, yeah. I slept good."
"Only good?" Yunho pouts.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him; and look around instead, noticing Seonghwa was in the kitchen, flipping pancakes. The others were freshly showered, neatly dressed and sitting around the table with a plateful of breakfast in front of them. Jongho had a frown on his face every time he glanced at you, Hongjoong's eyes were rather beguiling and beaming at you with a few ulterior motives hidden in clear sight, and Yeosang barely acknowledged your presence as he was busy working on his laptop which he had propped in front of him instead of a plate.
Jongho, who's fidgeting with the sleeves of his university sweatshirt, flashes you a disdainful glance and looks back down at his plate of half-eaten pancakes. "Are you going to make it to any of your classes today?"
Ouch.
"What do you mean?" you act coy, squeezing your thighs together as you reel off into the memories of last night.
"Don't pretend to be a doll, Ange." he groans softly, training his eyes on you, "I know what happened last night, well everyone does."
Yunho adds, "she was loud enough for our neighbours to hear, I wouldn't be surprised if y'all heard her too."
"Not the time to boast, Yun," Hongjoong warns, shaking his head; you watch him smiling at you, smugly, sitting poised dressed in a grunge green suit and a black shirt under it. He fiddles with an emerald ring sitting on his thumb, raising his brow at you in sheer wonder. "It's better if we address this situation first, and later on, you can go back to your teasings and haughty nothings."
"What is there to address?" you gawk, blinking twice as your eyes remain wide and fixated on Hongjoong.
Seonghwa walks in with a plate of hot pancakes and places it in front of you before sitting next to Hongjoong. "Us." he mutters, motioning his index finger between you, him, and Yunho. "We need to confront what we feel and superimpose our feelings onto what we did last night."
"I mean..." you trail off, glancing at Yunho, "I was already considering Yunho's proposition to be exclusively friends with benefits. I'm not sure about..." you peek at Seonghwa.
"It's not just about them, for now," Jongho mutters, his cheeks turning a flimsy shade of red as he continues, "I like you, I've always had. Though, it's not a reason enough for me to be with you. I enjoy your company too and I wouldn't mind being a part of your..."
"Where are you going with this?" you mumble, bemused and lost in a whirlwind of confusion.
"What we're trying to put forth is a—umm, sort of a similar premise to Yunho's," Hongjoong initiates and Seonghwa adds to it, "we want you to be our precious little thing."
"We, as in all of us maybe," Yunho knocks his knuckles on the table to get Yeosang's attention, "Sangie, are you in or not?"
Yeosang looks up at him, nibbling on his lower lip as he nods, eyes quickly rummaging to check you out. "Sure."
"Basically, the ones who are sitting around here." Yunho continues, "we need someone who could help us out with our frustrations and oddly enough sexual desires. Only, that is, if you're comfortable being a part of it."
"I would need some time to think." You're beyond tempted to accept it, be their scarlet woman but you didn't want to come off as too eager to accept it.
"Take all the time you need, doll," Hongjoong assures you with a warming smile.
"After all, you're going to be our precious one."
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bunni-v1 · 8 months
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hii, can I request "First Years Finding Out Your A Girl" with sebek and ortho please?
Ortho and Sebek Find out You’re a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Swearing (as usual lol); Ortho being creepy; Misogyny mention <3; Reader goes by she/her and is biologically female; Book 6 spoilers (very light, but still there); Bunni hasn't read Book 7 and therefore doesn't know what they're talking about :)
Info: Ortho x Reader; Sebek x Reader; Fem!Reader; Platonic
🍓Hi. If you’ve read the first part of this, I copy pasted the intro. Not because I’m lazy or anything (I’m a little lazy, but I’m a full-time college student who also has a part-time job, so I think I can be excused.) It’s mostly because… It’s a good intro. If people are just discovering this stuff then they can read it, but if you’ve read the first part you can just skip to the good good yk. Anyway, long-ass babble session, but I didn’t include Ortho and Sebek initially because they’re kind of new to the First year group so idk. Felt weird including them. Also, I haven’t read book seven so Sebek I bullshit a lot lol. Anyway, they’re here now, and I absolutely ADORE Ortho, so sorry if my favoritism shows.
First Years
Second Years
Third Years
Dorm Leaders
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
Ortho 
-Okay, so Ortho is a little creepy weirdo. He’s a highly advanced robot who likely has autism, and loves his big brother a whole fucking lot. 
-(Side note: Can a robot, child, or thing have autism? Does that mean Idia programmed Ortho to be autistic? How silly of him.)
-It’s my personal head cannon that Idia DECKED this kid out in as much high-tech gear as he could get his hands on. 
-He’s equipped with some of the most complex medical features, therefore he has access to a database of all students at NRC’s medical files. (This is not legal, but he does not care for the law.)
-“But Bunni, what does that have to do with the prefect?” Well, Ortho is ALSO equipped with the latest medical scanner on the market.
-Think like Baymax, yeah? He can scan everyone one time and know every piece of medical knowledge readily available.
-Well, Ortho, the sweet little creep he is, automatically scans the medical information of any new person he sees/meets into his database — just in case it may come in handy.
-So, before he even KNOWS you. Before he speaks a single word to you, he knows you’re biologically a female.
-He scanned you without thinking and just shrugged his shoulders at it.
-You’re not from here, and you got thrown into this, so you being a woman doesn’t really matter too much to you being at NRC. 
-It honestly could’ve been anyone getting stuck here, so why should he question it?
-However, he notices that you are referred to with exclusively “male” pronouns, so he marks in your file that you are trans and moves on. 
-Again, who cares? He’s a magical robot guy based on his brother's dead brother. Who was he to judge?
-When he finally ACTUALLY gets to interact with you after being welcomed into the first-year squad, he’s very respectful of your gender.
-You are a man to him, therefore he refers to you with exclusively masculine pronouns.
-However, everyone in your little group already knows, and they assume that Ortho knows. So when they speak about you, they use feminine pronouns.
-Ortho, sweet as he is, immediately questions everyone as to why they’re misgendering you.
-Protective of the people he cares for at heart, he doesn’t like the idea that your so-called closest friends are misgendering you behind your back.
-Doesn’t believe them completely when they explain, so he goes to you because you’re the only one who knows who you really are.
-“Prefect!”
“Hey, Ortho! What’s up? Miss me?”
“Of course I do, but I have a very important question.”
“Sure, what do ya need?”
“Are you a woman?”
-At this point 90% of your friends know, but there is a handful that doesn’t… and you can’t be having that.
-You, of course, assure Ortho that you are not only a woman, but that your friends are not misgendering you behind your back.
-Relieved, he takes several of your friends off a hit list and removes the trans man label on your medical chart.
-Asks why you hid your gender in the first place.
-Promptly adds Crowley to a hit list (again).
-Ortho, out of EVERYONE at NRC, has absolutely zero behavior changes toward you. 
-He’s equally protective as he was before, he spends the same amount of time with you as usual, he doesn’t suddenly have some weird crush on you, and he’s still trying to set you up with Idia.
-Honestly, everyone should take notes from Ortho. He’s the best at this whole thing.
Sebek
-On the other hand… do not take notes from Sebek! He sucks at this! He sucks really badly!
-Out of all the first years, Sebek is not only the least close to you, but he is also incredibly mean. So you just… feel no obligation to tell him.
-In fact, you kind of… sort of… actively leave him out of the loop for a really long time.
-I mean, it's not an unreasonable thing to do. He is constantly berating you and putting you down for being human. You have no idea how he feels about women and you don’t want to find out first hand.
-In all honesty, he is the only person (other than Azul and the twins) that you’re really scared of finding out, and take extra precautions to ensure he doesn’t find out.
-However, you attend NRC, and nothing ever goes your way at NRC.
-Despite every precaution you take to keep your gender under lock and key, you overlook one thing.
-Malleus Draconia.
-His complete and total lack of social awareness is your downfall here. He finds out, and despite everything telling him to keep his mouth shut… he doesn’t. Because of course, he doesn’t.
-At this point, you’ve gone through most of your misadventures, and most — if not all — of your friends know you’re a girl.
-Hell, even Silver knows now. Everyone BUT Sebek knows.
-And he finds out because Malleus casually mentions it over dinner. Not even directly about your gender, he just uses she/her pronouns.
-Sebek, being Sebek, respectfully asks Malleus if he meant to say he. Malleus, of course, says no without a second thought.
-The shock and horror on Silver and Lilia’s faces was enough to be further confirmation.
-And Sebek’s world shatters.
-He was completely left out of the loop and also has a moral conflict now.
-As much shit, as I gave Sebek (as everyone gives Sebek) he RESPECTS women. His queen is a woman, and his mother is a woman. 
-In his eyes, women are some of the strongest people around. Regardless of if they’re human or not.
-You, on top of being a human from another realm who had successfully quelled several of the strangest students at NRC’s OVERBLOTS and came out on top, was also a woman.
-If that wasn’t strength, he didn’t know what it was.
-However, his bias against humans strongly clashes with his respect for women in this case.
-And it just… messes with his head. 
-He doesn’t treat you worse, in fact, he’s just… really awkward around you now.
-He doesn’t know if he should apologize or berate you for being a human, so he just stays stiff and glares at you.
-It's honestly more scary than him constantly talking down to you.
-However, once the two of you actually befriend one another, he apologizes to you. For everything, and explains where he’s coming from. Why he acted the way he did, how he really feels about you, and all that sweet shit.
-Afterwards, he is genuinely the best at keeping your secret (if he even needs to at this point).
-If there is anyone you can trust to keep his stupid mouth shut at NRC, it's Sebek. 
-His honor and pride force him into silence when it comes to secrets he promises to keep.
-In fact, if anyone is on your trail about it, he’s the first one to jump in the way and scare them off/shut them down.
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supercutszns · 30 days
Text
sweet on you | jason grace
wc + pairing: 1k, jason grace x f!reader
notes: short-ish jason blurb while i chalk up some of my beefier fics (& my 1k celebration thank u again)<3 this is my first time publishing for him so hopefully this isn't too ooc! i need to let myself write shorter stream of consciousness things,, all fluff, just jason taking your makeup off after a party <33 also its set at chb because i said so
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Whenever Jason washes off your makeup, he acts like it's his sworn duty.
You’re a little hazy as he wets a cloth in the sink, repositioning himself between your legs that hang limply off the bathroom counter. You keep scanning his face for any trace of weariness or urgency. After a long day of camp duties, the last thing you think he’d want was to clean up his drunken girlfriend after a secret party. But he’s as kind and patient as ever, and you don’t know if it’s your heart or the alcohol talking, but you are deliriously in love with him right now. He’s a leader—a brave, powerful demigod—but he’s only that good because he’s gentle. That's what you see, anyway. Everyone loves him for a reason, but you're still sure you love him most.
You got drunk. You got anxious. But it’s more than worth it if Jason takes care of you after. Even under these fluorescent bathroom lights, he’s beautiful.
“Why thank you,” he says, a bemused smile on his face.
You blink. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Sure did.”
The scar on the corner of his lip lifts as he kisses your cheek. You hum pleasantly, and you feel the ghost of his laugh before he pulls away. “Close your eyes for me?”
You oblige. In seconds, you’re greeted with the warm press of a towel on your face. Jason keeps you in place with his hand cupping your chin. “Let me know if I poke your eyes, okay?”
“If you do I’ll just bite your finger.”
“Awesome.” He works on sweeping the cloth over your skin to drag off all that makeup. You wait patiently, happily, indulging in the occasional idle chatter and the steady brush of Jason’s thumb underneath your chin. Every pass of his fingers against your face lulls you further into your haze. He’s warm, methodical, sweet. He switches the cloth to a different side and drags up your cheekbones. Your brain is mush with alcohol and appreciation.
“‘M sorry I got carried away, Jace,” you mumble, head swaying involuntarily. “Didn’t need to come get me like this.”
His soft laugh swims in your ears, and he lowers himself a bit to see you better. “Trust me, I wasn’t doing much. The only notable thing this evening was crossing the hundred-page threshold in my book.”
“Is it good?” You slur, toying with his dog-tag necklace you’d gotten him for his birthday.
He tilts his head, “Eh. Alright. I still like taking care of you more, though.”
You must be beaming stupidly wide, because Jason shakes his head with a smile, and he wraps his arms around you to kiss your jaw. “Besides, you’re sweet on me when you’re drunk.”
The feel of his lips would have shut you up in any normal circumstance, but your idiotic thoughts only heighten. “Sweet on you?”
“Mmhm.”
“That’s a thing?”
“Yes! They … people say it.”
His cheeks flush red in that insanely adorable way, and he presses his face back into your neck. “They said it in my book,” he mumbles, and you laugh so hard he has to shush you.
He goes through the rest of your rather particular skincare routine as per your instructions. He’s seen you do it a thousand times, but you repeat the order anyways just to be sure—although it’s likely you’re jumbling up your words and taking too many pauses for any of it to come out coherent. He takes his time, focused intently on the planes and ridges of your skin. If you were any more sober you’d probably be self-conscious, but sometimes his thumb runs across your cheek with a tenderness that has nothing to do with your serums.
Once all’s said and done, your skin refreshed, you’re practically snoozing on the counter. “Sweetheart,” Jason hums, winding arms around you once more, “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Only if it’s with you,” you yawn, cheek smushing into his chest.
“Well, that’s a given.”
He’s smiling again as he runs his hands down to your thighs, so you can loop your legs around his hips. “Hold on, okay?”
You oblige, relishing in the curl of his biceps against your sides as he hoists you off the counter. Usually you’d be hesitant to let him carry you around with you clinging to him like this, but your capacity for embarrassment had vanished about two drinks ago. You hear him chuckling into your hair as the breeze tickles your face, although it's far less severe in his arms.
Camp’s practically deserted this time of night so Jason has no problem getting you into his cabin. He puts you down on his lonely bed in a sea of marble, lit with nothing but the warmth of his reading lamp. “Thank you, baby,” you murmur as he helps you out of your clothes and gives you a shirt of his own. The way he smells reminds you of morning mist as he ties your hair back.
Soon you’re in your favourite place in the world: drowned in blankets on a cool summer night in Jason’s bed. You’re nestled snug against his chest, letting the fog in your mind settle as he traces shapes on your back beneath your shirt. Transfixed by the ebb and flow of his breath, you can’t help but press your lips to his collarbone, lazy chapstick kisses spooling onto his skin.
“Y’re right,” you mumble, “I am sweet on you.”
Jason laughs quietly, setting down his book. He taps on your chin to draw you out of his chest, leading you to his mouth. You’re giggling and falling into him before you even kiss. He tastes like sweet mint as he cages you against him with his arms, nothing but gentle. “Love you,” you whisper with a plucky smile.
He kisses your forehead, “I love you.” He disposes of his glasses and turns off his lamp, sinking the both of you down onto the mattress. “Get some sleep, angel.”
You must be a lot better at following instructions than you thought, because you smother yourself in his warmth and you’re sure you’ve never slept better.
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moon-rivr · 2 months
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easiest thing
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pairing: miguel o’hara x spider-woman reader
contents: reader who thinks they’re hard to love and miguel who loves them so easily, mentions of death at the beginning, reader goes to therapy, somewhat angsty and fluffy?
author’s note: pls don’t take the characterization for ‘you’ srsly, this was purely self indulgence 🫡
word count: 4.3k
"Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."
You'd given up on romance despite that you still had the lingering desire of wanting someone's eyes to sparkle everytime they looked at you and of wanting someone that just understood you in a way that nobody else had access to. You were a hopeless romantic with a shitty life in general, to say the least. If it wasn't the fact that you ended up getting ghosted time and time again or the fact that every talking stage you had ended up flopping like a fish out of water, it was the only best friend that you'd had dying. A part of you shut off the day you were forced to kneel down next to your Peter Parker, every sliver of hope in you fading away at the same rate that the life faded away from his eyes.
You knew that you weren't responsible for Peter's passing, but a part of you wished you could've done more than just watch the life from his body fade within your very eyes. You'd felt like the strongest person in the world up to that moment, being able to lift vehicles and pieces of rubble with ease, but in the moment, you were just as vulnerable as anybody else. You wished that you could've taken note of the strange behavior he elicited beforehand, that you weren't so caught up in your own issues to take note of what burdens he was struggling with. But now, all you could do was just linger on what you could've done, should've done, and what you wished you'd done differently.
You forced yourself to try to go through the motions of living without Peter, every task seeming more and more difficult with each day that passed by. Showering seemed like a tedious task, the almost borderline sting of the boiling water doing nothing to distract you from the pain that lingered in your heart. You'd even considered giving up the mantle of being Spider-Woman, the red and blue spandex suit collecting dust in the back of your wardrobe. Not even a year had passed by when you'd lost your Uncle Ben, the words from his dying lips ringing through your head. "With great power comes great responsibility," you murmured quietly to yourself, deciding to put on the suit after you'd failed to show up for New York time and time again these last few months.
You'd thought that coming back would be like riding a bike, that you wouldn't forget it no matter how much you willed yourself to try. But clearly, you'd been mistaken seeing as how you were currently dangling off the edge of the Empire State Building. You'd shot a web to cling onto the side of a building, finding yourself coming up short as nothing came out of your wrists. "Come on," you murmured to yourself, trying to stick your fingers in different positions to get the web to come out. It was almost like your body was giving you the consequences of neglecting it for far too long, refusing to work with you when you needed it the most. The grip that you had on the building loosened, the stickiness from your fingers no longer there as you dropped to the floor.
You frantically stuck your hand out to try to stick a web as you rapidly began your descent, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead. You weren't sure if it was the humidity in the air or the sheer nervousness that was coaxing your body at the moment. Most likely the latter, but you didn't have time to think too hard about it as you willed for just one measly web to come out before you face planted onto the pavement. Your body was running strictly out of fear now as you got dangerously close to the floor now, your mind starting to accept the situation for what it was. While you'd completely given up on trying more than surviving after Peter had died, all you knew now is that you didn't want to die. You really didn't.
A shaky breath of relief escaped from your lips when you stuck to a building near you, the web that you'd been hoping for so badly coming into fruition. You looked down at the floor, silently thanking the web sticking to the side of the building after realizing just how close you'd gotten to actually hitting the floor. After that near-death experience, you'd decided to get back into training your body before you went out to patrolling the city like you used to. Forcing yourself out of bed was less difficult as the days passed, finding a purpose to get yourself out of your house everyday. Your body wasn't the fighting machine that it used to be but you were willing to work to get just a sliver of what you used to have.
It wasn't long until the citizens of new york city started noticing that Spider-Woman was back, met with some disapproval but overall, everyone just seemed thrilled over the comeback. The city had been buried in a cesspool of chaos and robberies after you'd left. A few of the small fry were smart enough to drop their sketchy business before they got caught, an instant relief felt in the small businesses throughout the city. You couldn't help but feel suspicious as even the villains that found joy in threatening the city had gone under wraps, your mind running through all the possibilities of what they could possibly be planning. Your feet swung off the building you were monitoring from, your eyes shifting to every little noise elicited below you.
Your feet sprung up to action faster than you'd expected when you heard the sound of rubble crumbling underneath you, the sound of screaming ringing through your ears as you swung throughout the different buildings. You went to the scene of the danger, a distinction from the people that were fleeing from the scene while screaming at the top of the lungs. You approached the scene, watching as Rhino destroyed every building that he had access to. a malicious smile on his face as he controlled the metal suit, taking pleasure in the way that the city panicked under his control. You weren't one to make any ceremonious entrances, simply swinging into action as you wrapped a web from underneath him to tie his feet together.
You'd taken a couple hits from the fight, your body still not used to the strain of these fights after only week of training. Despite the fact that every muscle in your body was begging for you to stop, to give into the exhaustion, you refused to give up just yet. "Just a little longer," you mentally assured yourself, the muscles in your legs starting to burn as you ran over to the Rhino. You wanted to separate him from any of the citizens that might've stayed to watch the fight, unable to take even just one casualty tonight. You rendered the suit useless after tying it up to the wall, punching through the thick glass of what seemed to resemble the eyes. You pulled out what seemed to be a cheap copy of the original out of the suit, your eyes widening at the realization that this was all a decoy.
Miguel was watching your fight intently through the monitor, watching your movements as you tied the villain down. It was everything that he would've done in your situation, every movement graceful as you kept the villain away from any civilians. "Thinking about her as a new recruit?" LYLA asked from beside him, popping up into view as she took in the sight of your reflexes. "She'd be a nice addition," Miguel uttered quietly, entranced by the way that your body moved under the spandex. He'd been overlooking your universe for quite some time, finding a couple things that elicited some red flags in the system during your absence. He found it impressive the way that you'd managed to put your pain to the side for the greater good of New York City, willing to come back and fight despite the fact that you had no one to be personally fighting for.
Blood leaked from the side of your mouth as you received a blow from the actual Rhino, half your ribs bruised from the sheer impact of his metal fists pounding into your body. His suit was nearly indestructible, you were unable to take him down but you were able to tie him. Almost as if sensing your plan to restrain him, he avoided every single one of the webs that you'd struck out at him and landing a couple hits in the process. You were reeling on the floor, clutching your stomach as the man mocked your position on the floor. Every little comment escaping from his mouth serving to belittle your position as Spider-Woman, of doubting your ability to protect the people of New York City. You hated the effect that his words had on you, every single little utter only serving to deepen the insecurities that you already felt about yourself.
Your eyes widen a bit as you noticed the man in front of you glitch, making it all too evident that this wasn't your Rhino. You had noticed that it was taking you a bit longer to get past his defenses. You were thinking of giving up, giving into the pain and exhaustion coursing through your body when you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up like a soldier on command. An orange portal appeared by the side, the swirling waves almost distracting you from the task at hand. You'd managed to briskly avoid a punch thrown by the robot, your legs barely sustaining you as you stood up. You expected for the portal to show some of the goons that the Rhino called for assistance, but you were instead met with people that were all too similar to you. They all wore the spider emblem on their suit, their movements synced to precision as they fought against the villain.
You'd joined the fight to the best of your ability, helping them tie down the villain until one of the members captured the man in a trap. You were approached by a rather tall man just as you were getting ready to leave, his figure imposing over yours as he looked down at you. The mask on his face disappeared with one tap of the watch he had on, his gaze showing no emotion in it as he looked over at you. "I want to formally invite you to the Spider Society. It's where spider-people from different universes come and gather to fight against anomalies, I'd recommend for you to give it a thought," he spoke up, his hand extending a watch similar to the one he had on over to you. "This should teleport you to the building whenever you're ready."
You looked down at the watch as you realized it was nearly a week since it'd been given to you, the decision still not clear to you despite how long you'd looked at it. While there was nothing here for you in this universe, no prospect of friendship, family, or romance, a part of you didn't want to leave out of how comfortable you were at the moment. You'd gotten used to the cycle of the crime rates in New York, of fighting small time criminals and the occasional villain that tormented the city. You thought to yourself about what Peter would do, trying to convince yourself that he would be assuring your decision to stay stuck in this spot. With every attempt that you tried to rationalize your decision, you were only met with more reasons as to why you should go. Your finger pressed the button on the gizmo hesitantly, looking at the portal appearing inside of your apartment.
You were awestruck as you walked into the Spider Society, overwhelmed by just how many different universes you'd been so blissfully unaware of. There was a Spider-Cat, Spider-Dino, and even a car version of Spider-Man, interacting like it was normal. The building itself was also impressive, a modern design to match those of the buildings outside of it. You'd thought of flying cars as a figment of your imagination but here they were, a common sight as they moved through the sky. "You're the new recruit, right?" A small orange holographic woman appeared in front of you, waiting for your confirmation before she led you inside. "Grab one of the bracelets on that table over there before you start to glitch out."
Before you got the chance to ask what she meant by 'glitch out,' you felt like your body was struggling to even mobilize. The atoms inside you seemed to be defying the building you were in, some of them morphing you into a different shape before it stopped. You quickly pulled the bracelet onto your wrist, following the holograph into the room that she led you in. "He'll be down from his platform in a second. That thing usually takes a while to load," she informed you, fading away just as soon as she'd arrived. You looked up at the platform as it started to lower, every second of waiting only making you feel more nervous about the situation. It was the same man that had given you the watch beforehand, the leader of this whole organization if you had to assume.
Miguel took one look at your expression, your eyes holding so much pain buried within them even if you were trying your best to plaster a smile on your face. Even that seemed to be crumbling under his very eyes, though, your smile not quite meeting your eyes as it wavered with every second that he spent looking at you. He knew the pain that came with being Spider-Man, knew of all the sacrifices that the people in his society faced once they took on the role. He'd seen this story play out multiple times, whether it be with Ben, Gwen, or with Peter. But for some reason, unknown even to himself, he couldn't handle seeing you so upset. "Welcome to the Spider Society, I'm Miguel O’Hara. Allow me to show you around."
Miguel took you along through the different areas in the society, taking in your reactions of everything that it offered. You couldn't help but notice that every member that the two of you passed seemed to look at him with awe, immediately scrambling to find something to do. "If you ever want or need someone to talk to, we have a licensed therapist on the first floor. Everything's confidential so you don't have to worry about anything getting out," he spoke up once he was finished with the tour of the facility, his red eyes meeting yours for the first time this evening. The orange hue in the background only accentuated how beautiful they truly were, the intensity that his gaze held.
Maybe it was the fact that he didn't want you to turn out like had, so consumed in your own pain that you'd become a shell of the person of who you used to be. A way for him to prevent yourself from delving in too far in your pain, the way he had when he neglected to speak his native tongue because it just reminded him time and time again of how his mamá had failed to show up for him. You weren't a bunch of sunshine and rainbows from what he could tell from the few clips that he'd seen from you in your element, but even he could tell that you were hiding the pain you felt. He wanted to be the helping hand he wished he could've had when he was struggling with Gabriella’s loss, the helping hand he wished he could’ve just had in general.
“I don't really need therapy but thank you," you assured him, thanking him once more for welcoming you as a member before making your way out of the room. While subconsciously you could feel that there was something wrong with the way that you were perceiving the world and reacting to the things happening in your life, you didn't want to feel like too much of a burden. You didn't want to take that help away from the people that could need it, despite the fact that you could tell within yourself you were slowly starting to wear down from the events happening in your life. Before you could go to get help, you had to acknowledge that deep within, you truly did need someone's help during this period of your life. But for now, you would just keep your head down and prove your worth in the society.
You'd made your way into therapy after you decided that maybe it wasn't as bad as you imagined, that admitting to yourself that you needed help hadn't been the end of the world. You'd managed to work out through your feelings of grief about losing peter and Uncle Ben, learning that it was okay to miss them just as long as you didn't let your life stop from the grief that you felt. Despite the fact that you'd made some progress with that aspect of your life, you refused to touch any topic that covered the progress of your romantic life. Maybe because you knew that it would delve into further issues, knowing that it would make you think about why you felt unwanted. You weren't ready to deal with those issues just yet, unsure if you would ever be ready to divulge.
You were slowly starting to come around to being the version of yourself that you used to be, of getting back into doing the things that you once enjoyed doing. You'd picked up a couple books from the library at the society, spending some of the time that wasn't training or going out on missions reading about silly romance novels. If it wasn't that, you'd found different activities that you found yourself enjoying. You realized that you wouldn't have tried them out if it weren't for the state of your life right now, having lived in a state of doing whatever was comfortable between Peter and you. You were finding things that belonged solely to you, finding memories that weren't involved with missing anybody.
Miguel wasn't too obvious with the way that he presented his feelings towards you, but if you'd looked a little closer, you would've noticed the little details. How the grumpy boss who avoided making meaningless conversation with everyone else seemed to present an interest in everything that you had to say, asking you questions of how you were adjusting to the Spider Society and asking questions about things that you showed an interest in. He knew that you were still coping with your problems so he didn't want to push you too far, didn't want to push you too far away from him. He was happy to keep talking to you in a platonic matter, just getting to hear that little rise in your pitch whenever you were excited filling him up with a sense of peace and tranquility.
"LYLA, can you log into her amazon account for me?" He spoke up to her, unable to decide what to get you for your birthday. He'd had months to plan out what he wanted to gift you, but every gift seemed to be dwindled in quality when he compared it to the type of person that you were. You were worth more than the complimentary pair of socks he was so accustomed to gifting the members of the society whenever they had a birthday. LYLA’s confusion was evident across her features but she complied with his request, hacking through your account to pull up your cart. While you had some necessities on there, you also had a list of the books that you were planning on getting in the near future. Perfect.
To say that it was the easiest purchase he's made in his life was a bit of an understatement, he was waiting anxiously to see the excitement on your face once you opened his gift. You'd even joked that he seemed more excited about the gift opening than you were. He watched as you opened up the gift carefully, trying not to rip apart the wrapping paper that he'd chosen for you. Your eyes practically sparked up with excitement at opening up the box, finding the catalog of books you were putting to the side until you were able to buy them. You were rendered speechless for a bit, your eyes shifting from the books over to Miguel who was standing to the side, gauging for every one of your little reactions.
"Thank you!" You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him as you enveloped him into a hug. The action was foreign to him, something he hadn't bothered to practice in a while. but every thought of that went out the window as his arms came to your back, rubbing small circles as he looked down at you. "I hope this means you liked your present," he spoke just loud enough for you to hear, an intimate scene set between the two of you despite the fact there was a crowd of people partying around. "I love it, thank you so much," you told him, the tightness of your embrace speaking for all the words you couldn't get out of your mouth at the moment. He let you cling onto him as long as you needed, unwilling to deny you anything.
Miguel wasn't planning on acting on his feelings, but eventually decided that it would be better to get a rejection straight up than stay wondering 'what if?' He ran different scenarios of how it would go, some of them resulting in the two of you going out on a date while some of them resulted in you ignoring him throughout your duration at the Spider Society. He tried hard not to focus on those thoughts too much, letting himself have a false sense of positivity despite the fact that you hadn't reciprocated his feelings at all. He ran different approach methods in his mind, trying to figure out what he could possibly say to you but every thought in his head seemed to be rendered useless just by taking a good glimpse at you in your natural state. Curled up on the couch with a book in your hand, the faint glow from the sun shining through the window illuminating your features.
"Hey, do you mind if I talk to you?" He came up by your side as you were reading one of the books he'd gotten for your birthday, a small smile appearing on your face as you looked over at him. "Yeah, for sure. What's up?" You asked him, scooting over on the couch to give him space to sit down. He sat down next to you, almost seeming nervous in front of you as he twiddled with his thumbs. It was a sight to behold, the man usually in command of every room he walked into nervous at the prospect of getting rejected. "I wanted to ask you out on a date. If you don't want to, I completely understand. I just hope it won't ruin what you've built here at the Spider Society," he finally spoke up after what seemed to be a couple minutes of silence, his eyes hesitant to look into yours as he waited for you to process the information.
You'd been oblivious to these signs for months, unable to even fathom that someone would see you in that way. You were so convinced that you weren't someone that people saw as date-worthy, that you were only a placeholder until they were able to find someone better. You blinked slowly as you tried to let his words sink in, the look on your face vulnerable as you looked up at him. "You're not joking right?" You tried to confirm, hoping that you weren't being used as the butt of a joke this time around. You'd started to grow comfortable around Miguel, enjoying being around his company and even envisioning him whenever you had your nose buried in a book. "No I’m not joking," his voice was gentle as he assured you, his hand holding yours as he rubbed circles on the back of yours.
"Then yes. I'd like to go out on a date with you," you finally accepted his invitation after no recording crew had come out to expose themselves.The two of you spent a couple seconds in silence before he spoke up again. "Pudiera escribirte un libro como esos que tanto te gustan nomas hablando de cuanto tu presencia me alumbra la vida y aun no seria suficiente para describir el amor que siento por ti, preciosa. You make me forget every word in my repertoire just by looking into your eyes," he murmured, his Spanish coming out nearly perfect despite the fact he hadn't bothered to speak it aloud in a couple years now. "Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."
(I could write you a book like those you really like, just talking about how much your presence illuminates my life and it still wouldn't enough to describe the love I feel for you, precious)
Despite reading and re-reading all the romance books stacked up on your shelf at home, you'd never actually imagined that you'd be the one in the main character's position now. You lived vicariously through those books, all the romantic moments that you longed for merely described as words on paper. You remembered picking out books with the male's pov just to get that glimpse of what adoration sounded on both sides, of getting a picture of what you wanted someone to think about when they saw you. You'd seen multiple people in your life getting into relationships, assuring you empty promises that you'd find the person for you when the time was right, and you’d dismissed it all as pure bullshit. But all that waiting seemed worth it at the thought of going out with Miguel.
You couldn't help but feel butterflies taking flight in your stomach at the realization that Miguel, one of the smartest people you've ever met who seemed to have a response for everything, was rendered speechless just by having you around. The feeling was almost overwhelming as you slowly started to let your guard down around him, letting him love you the way he wanted to love you. You realized now that maybe you weren't as unlovable as you thought you were, that you weren't too broken to be the object of someone's love and admiration, just that you'd been seeking those things from the wrong people. All you wanted was to express the same love that he’d expressed towards you despite the lack of experience.
tag list 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02
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azrielsdove · 4 months
Note
I literally had a dream about this last night and I had to get it out. 😬
Could I request Azriel x Rhysands sister Reader. Where her and Az have a one night stand and Reader becomes pregnant but she glamours her scent and goes to a healer for a tonic to get rid of it. She doesnt tell Azriel or Rhys because shes young and barely become of age for a fae, shes a princess and couldnt bring a bastard child into the high court and also Rhys would freak the fuck out and probably ban them both. Azriel somehow finds out finds out and that she wants to get rid of it and he begs and grovels for her to keep the babe but shes so so conflicted. Angst with whatever ending you'd like.
Side note: In my dream I don't know how it ended just that Rhys was newly appointed high lord and was under so much stress and was suuuper strict. And thats why I didnt tell him. I remember azriel stopping me outside of the healers and he just knew. Like serious spymaster look hovering above me cuz I was so much shorter than him and he was holding my arms telling me to keep it. 😩😩😩 I wish i would have remembered the baby making process tho. 🤣🤣🤣
Baby, My Baby: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Smut, angst, pregnancy + abortion talk, 18+
***
Your back slammed against the wall outside Rita’s, Azriel’s lips harsh against yours. You gripped onto his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. His fingers dug into your hips, groaning into the kiss. Everything about this was wrong, and you were both dead if Rhysand saw.
You couldn’t bring yourself to care as the Shadowsinger ground down against you. You gasped against his lips, pushing back against him. “Az,” you murmured, breaking the kiss just slightly. “Let’s go.” He nodded, wrapping you in his arms as he shot off to the sky.
He flew you to the House of Wind, your lips kissing his neck and face wherever you could reach. You let your fingers trail his wings, shivering at the noise that pulled from him. “If you don’t stop that, we will never make it there.” He growled, voice hot. You smirked against his skin, letting your fingers trail the delicate leather one more time.
Azriel landed you on the balcony outside of his room, lips immediately connecting to yours while he pushed you backwards through the doors. The tension between the two of you had finally snapped when you both had one too many shots that night. Your brother forbade you from laying with anyone, having given you a dreadfully long speech the night you turned of age. He warned you of the dangers of trusting males with your body, that it wasn’t appropriate for the princess of the Night Court to sleep around.
All his concerns were gone from your mind as Azriels fingers slid up your skirt. You arched into the touch, this feeling new and unfamiliar. He groaned into your mouth at your body’s reaction to him, tugging your dress and underwear off. He pulled away, gazing at your now exposed body. You felt self conscious for half a second, until he looked up at you with desire filled eyes.
“Can I taste?” He asked, pushing you onto the edge of his bed and kneeling between your legs. You nodded, not trusting your voice to work right then. Azriel gave you a wicked smile, head ducking down. Your back arched against the bed at the first swipe of his tongue, hands tangling in his hair. He gripped onto your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders. His tongue worked expertly, licking and sucking you in a way that made you cry out with pleasure. He dragged one hand up to your stomach, pressing you flat onto the bed. You moaned loudly, the force of him keeping you still increasing the sensations he was giving you.
Your thighs squeezed around his head, gasps and moans falling from you as he worked you. He brought his other hand up, sliding one finger inside. You bit your lip at the unfamiliar intrusion, mind going blank when his finger curled in the most delicious way. “Mmm, you are tight.” He growled against you, pushing another finger in. You gave a squeak at the two large fingers inside, prepping you to take him fully. You felt the coil in your stomach threatening to snap, your hands holding onto Azriels hair like a lifeline. He sucked sharply, fingers doing that perfect curl inside of you, blinding white taking over your vision. You pushed against him, mouth open in a silent scream as the unmistakable pleasure wiped over you. Azriel pushed you through it, prolonging the feeling until you were shaking.
He pulled away, kissing up your body as he made his way back to your lips. You grabbed onto his back, kissing him as hard as you could. You tasted yourself on his lips, his tongue, the fire reigniting in your stomach. “Are you ready for me?” He asked, sliding his pants off. You looked down, mouth dropping a little at the size of him. Was he even going to fit?
Azriel chuckled darkly, titling your head back up to look at him. “It will fit.” He promised, leaning back to kiss you as he ran himself through the wetness between your legs. You groaned when he pushed the first inch in, the feeling new to your body. He went slowly, moving inch by inch. Pain erupted through you, quickly turning to pleasure the deeper he went. When he finally bottomed out, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He breathed heavy against you, breaking away from your kiss to rest his forehead on yours. “Tell me when.” He whispered, allowing you time to adjust to the size of him.
“Please”, you breathed out, “Azriel, please, move.” He didn’t need to be told twice, pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting his way in again. You screamed his name, nails digging into his skin. He started kissing and sucking on your neck, the feeling of his mouth and his cock overwhelming you. You moaned his name over and over, the only word you knew at the moment.
“Fuck,” Azriel groaned, feeling you around him. “Princess, fuck. You feel even better than I imagined.” He accompanied his words with a bite to your shoulder, a whine escaping your lips. He fucked into you over and over, having you on the edge again in no time.
“Az,” you moaned, “Az! I’m gonna-“ You didn’t even finish the sentence before release poured over you, certain you were drawing blood with the force of your nails on his back. He roared as he came right behind you, the pleasure of you squeezing around him too much for him to bear. He spilled into you, rope after rope of thick cum coating your walls. He stilled his movements, the two of you breathing hard against each other.
He slowly pulled out, rolling to lay next to you. Azriel wrapped his arms around you, pulling you comfortingly into his chest. “You were amazing.” He whispered into your hair, smiling at your already sleeping form, fucked out.
He chose to ignore the thought of what Rhysand would do if he ever found out what happened.
***
It was a few weeks after when you woke up one morning, body sore. You weren’t sure why, you had been too tired to even go to training the day before. You stretched, deciding to go down and get some tea to soothe your muscles. You were waiting for the water to boil when Cassian came in behind you. “Good Mor-“ He started, stopping abruptly. You turned to him, lifting an eyebrow in confusion. He was staring at you wide-eyed, mouth open in shock.
“Cass?” You asked, confusion turning into concern as he just stood there. “Are you okay?”
He blinked, snapping out of his frozen state. “Am I okay? Are you okay? Does Rhys know? Whose is it?” The questions tumbled out of him, each one confusing you more and more. You held your hand up, signaling him to stop.
“I’m sorry, what are you talking about?” You asked, cocking your head to the side. Cassian’s eyes got even wider, realizing you yourself didn’t know yet.
“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, shifting on his feet. He did not want to be the one to deliver this news to you. “Uh, you know. The baby?”
The baby? What was he talking about, ‘the baby’? You stared blankly at him, not sure what to say. “What do you mean,” you started slowly, “the baby?”
Cassian looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. “Your baby. The one inside you.” His words were quiet, cautious.
You laughed.
“Impossible, Cass. There’s no way i’m pregnant, i’m-“ You cut yourself off, heart racing. You weren’t a virgin, not anymore. You thought back to that night, remembering Azriel finishing inside you. Realizing you have never taken the contraceptive tea, a request like that would have guaranteed your brothers meddling. You foolishly believed it wouldn’t happen, it is so difficult for fae to conceive. How could you lose your virginity and fall pregnant all in one night?
You heard the unmistakable sound of your brother and Azriel talking, heading to the kitchen. You looked in panic at Cassian, glamouring your scent as quickly as possible. “Can you still smell it?” You asked quietly, breathing a little easier when he shook his head. You turned back to your now boiling water, filling your teacup as though everything was normal.
“Good morning sister! Cass!” Rhys exclaimed, walking into the room. Thanking the Mother, Cassian had managed to sit down and fill his plate with random food before they came in. Hiding the tense conversation the two of you just had. You turned to face them, sipping your tea nonchalantly.
“Brother. Az.” You greeted, acting like nothing was wrong. Like you didn’t just have the biggest bomb of your life dropped on you. Rhys came to give you a hug, your body tensing as if he would be able to feel that there were now two heartbeats inside of you. He pulled back, resting his hands on your arms as he looked into your eyes.
“Are you alright?” He asked, worry written on his face. You have him a small smile, sipping your tea.
“Yes, just tired. I think i’m coming down with something.” You responded, throwing in a little cough at the end. “I’m just going to go lie back down, i’m sure some rest will help.” You smiled at your brother, turning to leave the kitchen.
The Shadowsingers eyes were burning into your retreating form.
***
You paced your room, every inch of you panicking. Should you tell Rhys? Should you tell Azriel? No. You shouldn’t tell either of them. Azriel will probably be ashamed of you, not wanting to claim your child as his. You’ll be forced to bring a bastard into this world, into the Night Court. And Rhys, oh he would kill you. No, he would kill Az. And then he would kill you. He’d make you and your bastard child leave the Court, not allowing that kind of shame to be brought on his family.
No, you decided. You had to get rid of it. Rhysand would never recover from the mess of it all. His barely of age sister, knocked up by his best friend. He was too new at being High Lord, the last thing he needed was something as complicated as this weighing him down. You fell into a fitful sleep, knowing what you would be forced to do the next day.
***
“Cass?” You called, knocking on his door early the next morning. Your brother kept you in the House of Wind, ensuring you would have to ask before you went to and from. You were not gifted with the Illyrian wings of your mother, and you did not care to trek 10,000 steps down to get where you needed to go.
Cassian opened his door, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What is it?” He asked, looking down at you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly self conscious.
“I need you to take me down to the city.” You spoke quietly, the words harder to say than they were to think. “I’m getting rid of it.”
Cass stilled, staring at you for a long moment. Finally he nodded, turning back to get dressed. He lead you out to the balcony, folding you into his arms before taking off. It was a wordless flight, neither of you knowing what to say. He flew you all the way to the healer on the edge of Velaris, knowing it would offer you the most privacy.
You thanked him when he landed, turning to go into the small building. Cass stopped you, a hand on your arm. “Are you sure?” He asked, conflict in his eyes.
You nodded, giving a sad smile. “Rhys doesn’t need this stress. His unwed, young sister bringing a bastard into his court? And Az-“ You stopped yourself, feeling Cassians hand tighten on your arm in shock. You looked at him wide-eyed, realizing what you had confessed. “Do not tell him Cass. Please, please. He doesn’t need to deal with this either.” You begged, eyes filling with tears. He slowly nodded, releasing your arm.
“Okay.” He said finally, looking over you one last time. “I’ll stay in the area, watching for when you’re ready to go back.” You smiled gratefully, watching as he flew back up into the sky.
You turned to the building in front of you, suddenly feeling nauseous. Maybe you should just run away, run to a different court and hide. You don’t know how long you stood there, lost in your thoughts. The sun rose higher in the sky, signaling the time that had passed. You took a deep breath, whispering “It’s for the best” as you took a step forward to open the door.
“Stop!” You heard the panting cry from above you, and then a thud behind you. You whipped around, shocked to see Azriel standing there. “Stop.” He said again, quieter. He took a hesitant step towards you, looking like he wanted to grab you and take you away. You couldn’t say anything, mind blank as you looked at him. “Cass told me. He is scared for you.” He explained, hands fidgeting at his sides.
A flash of anger goes through you, he promised not to tell. “Go home, Az.” You said, voice clipped. “You don’t need to deal with this.” You ignored the pain on his face as you turned back to the door.
“No!” He grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the building. “No.” He said softer, making you look at him. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
You ripped your arm out of his grasp, frustrated and embarrassed at the whole situation. “Do not pretend you want a child, Az. Especially a child with me. You’ve barely talked to me since that night, and now suddenly you think you have a right to my choice?” It wasn’t so much anger at him that was coming out of you, more an anger at everything.
He looked like you had slapped him across the face, hands falling to his sides. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.” He said softly, eyes on the ground.
“What are you talking about?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
“The next morning, when I woke up, you were gone. I thought maybe you weren’t sure if I was okay with you staying there, so I went to find you. I wanted to let you know that it was more than a fling. That I needed it to be more than a fling. When I found you in the kitchen, you smiled and said good morning like nothing had happened. I assumed you weren’t interested in more than that.”
Silence.
“You are a fucking idiot.” You said, rolling your eyes.
“What?” He asked, looking back up at you.
“I acted like everything was normal because I assumed that’s what you wanted. I’m your best friends younger sister, can you imagine the trouble you would get in with Rhys if he knew?”
“I imagine the trouble i’d get in with him is tenfold now.”
“Go home, Az.” You demanded again, staring him down. He took a step closer to you.
“No.” He said, reaching out to grab onto your arms. “Whatever choice you make, it is yours. I will respect what you decide, and I will never bring it back up if you wish. But please, know you are not alone. I want to be by your side, baby or not. My best friends sister or not.” You were taken aback by the honesty in his eyes, the tears begging to fall there.
You swallowed thickly, voice quiet when you spoke. “I want to be by your side too, no matter what.” He gave a soft smile, wrapping his arms around you. You stood in his embrace for a few, debating the choice you were going to make. You finally pulled away from him, sliding your hand into his. You took a deep breath, turning to walk into the healers office with Azriel next to you.
***
“You WHAT?!” You hear your brothers roar, sighing as the House began to shake with fighting. You pulled yourself up, walking out to the training ring to see your brother and Azriel. You leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of you. Cass came up beside you, watching as well.
“I take it he told him?”
You nodded.
“Guess it didn’t go well.”
You shrugged. “He isn’t dead, so.”
Cassian laughed, agreeing with you.
The two of you watched as they fought, Rhys yelling countless insults to Azriel. Really, it was less of a fight and more of Az letting Rhys get his anger out, deflecting enough to escape serious injury or death. “You dirty, disgusting pig! My sister?! You’ve chosen to be with my sister?!” He throws another punch at Az, deflecting it with a glance at you.
You and Azriel had grown closer since that day at the healers. He was so gentle with you in the few days after, caring for you and treating you like a delicate piece of art. You didn’t stand for that for very long, desperate to get back to training. He allowed, modifying it at first so you wouldn’t overwhelm yourself.
Rhys and Az fought for a good while, Rhys finally winding down. He was breathing hard, looking between you and his friend. “Fine,” he said, crossing his arms. “I can be happy for you, or whatever.” He didn’t sound very happy, but there was a light in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Azriel sighed in relief at the fighting being over, a wicked smile coming across your face.
“Brother dear,” you called, directing the attention over to you. Azriel sensed what you were about to do, shaking his head vigorously behind Rhysands back. You waved your hand, allowing the glamour you’d kept up for the past seven months to fall away. “How does ‘Uncle’ sound?” You watched your brother take in your smell, the rounded belly your hands now rested on. His face reddened, anger coming back in full force as he whirled onto Az.
“YOU GOT HER PREGNANT?!”
***
Extra:
Rhys held the tiny girl close, letting her little hand hold his finger. He cooed and awed at her, already willing to do anything to make her happy. Azriel smiled at you, holding your tired body close to him. Your labor had been long, but without incident. By some stroke of luck, the healers discovered you had the Illyrian anatomy of your mother, just without the wings. When you went into the building that day with Az, you asked for a pregnancy confirmation. The healer had been able to confirm one healthy child, a child that unmistakably had wings. Fear had overtaken Azriel in the few weeks after, constantly debating if he should tell Rhys. At your next appointment the healer did an internal check, delivering the news that all would be well.
You were thankful, laying in the arms of Azriel as you watched your brother hold your daughter. You were thankful Azriel stood by you as you decided to keep the baby, supporting you every step of the way. You even became thankful Cassian told him what you planned to do that day, even if the betrayal had stung for a while after. You were especially thankful Rhys didn’t murder Az when he found out you were pregnant. You looked up to the male next to you, a soft smile on your face.
All was well.
***
i LOVED this request!!!!! sometimes dreams are the best story inspo haha! also the “i wish i would have remembered the baby making process” SENT me lmao! i hope i did it justice for you 😉😅🫶🏻
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kunikuma · 4 months
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relationship | wriothesley x gn!reader
synposis | the journey of self-worth is a long one, but wriothesley is a patient man. content | fluff cw | heavily implied low self-worth reader, high-level journey of findin' yaself pooks a/n | this one goes out to my fellow pookies in chat who apologize too much. i remembered reading an inspo quote somewhere about taking up space and taking up as much space as you can. came to mind at work... if someone knows what i'm talking about, pls lmk! it's haunting me and i want you all to read it for yourself. i just wanted to write more "good bf wrio" fics.
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“listen to me, sweetheart.”
wriothesley’s firm words fought against the cloud of self-doubt accumulating tumultuously in your brain. when you met his strong gaze, it was like the true warden of the fortress had taken over. he was peering into your very being, his eyes waltzing around to scrutinize your teary visage. 
before you can utter a retort about how you were listening loud and clear, he presses a dark-clothed hand against the warmth of your cheek. the discerning gaze of the warden softens into his usual simpering hues. his lips part to deliver words he prayed clung to your mind. 
“gentle reminder,” he starts with a tender smile, “it’s okay to take up space in people’s lives. that doesn’t make you a burden.”
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it was a slow, slow, slow process of getting you to become comfortable being your own person.
it took a while for you to build the confidence to stop apologizing when someone bumped into you on the busy streets of fontaine.
it took even longer not to feel guilt when your belongings took up extra space on the aquabus.
it took even longer than that to not fluster and apologize to the handsome man at your side when you awkwardly explained you were dying for his attention. 
in the chilly prison under the sea, evidence of your efforts began to sprinkle themselves around. 
you had rightfully started to take up space in people’s lives. 
one day, he noted that a cliche book he would never claim to read sat on his desk. 
months later, your nightly clothes found solace in an unoccupied drawer in his office.
even a little bit after that, you asked if he’d like to read his own books while you did the same at his side.
after a year and a half, the duke felt a need to refurnish his office, so he put in an order for a petite couch for two. 
when you had hastily bit your tongue to prevent yourself from insisting otherwise, he grinned with unrepressed pride. you had begrudgingly grumbled and hugged him in thanks. 
during this, he pressed his smiling face into the side of your neck and breathed happily.
“‘m so proud of you, sweetheart. you’ve come a long way.”
in the bright nation of fontaine, you were slowly but surely claiming space. though, to wriothesley, you always had claim to the previously empty space in his life and his heart.
you laughed when his fluffy hair tickled your neck during his nuzzle. you mumbled about how the journey to establishing self-worth was taking a little longer than you thought. his scoff was muffled, but his love in his words was loud and clear.
"well, aren’t you lucky? i'll be stuck by your side every step of the way." 
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