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#but like. so hard the muscle hurts lmao
crybaby-bkg · 7 months
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it is so so so so soooo hard to unlearn that a problem not communicated directly to you shouldn’t affect your wellbeing and you can’t keep beating yourself up about something not being told to you!!!!!!!!????????? terrible thing to have to come to terms with. I hate it. (it’s helped so much of my anxiety when it comes to relationships with people.)
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safyresky · 6 months
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OOH GIRL I HAD A FUN IDEA!
I was thinking about random TSC characters if they had tattoos (which I hope to make my own post about eventually, another one added to the pile) AND THEN I remembered that one Jacqueline Frost exists and I wanna know if she would have any tattoos! What of? Where? Would any of your OTHER oc's have them?
Idk just a thought to roll around in your head. Cause it's certainly been pinballing in mine!
This pin balled in my head ALL NIGHT, I TELL YOU. ALL! NIGHT!
I asked Jacqueline and she had 0 reply so I was left on my OWN here. NONE of the characters were like, sups vocal about this. BUT ANYWAY after a good night's sleep and some pre-bed pin balling, I have a list of likely to get tattoos/want them at the VERY least:
Fino and Fiera deffs would. They probably would get something matchy for funsies at some point, somewhere like. Obscure?? Like their side or like, shoulder or like leg somewhere. Deffs a nondescript one! And probs just before they turn 2000 lol. (tho the image of two rather small 1200 year olds going HI YES 1 MATCHING TATTOO PLEASE is so fucking funny)
Fiera would get more tats than just that for sure, lol.
Blaise would tattoo. does he have any? Not that I'm aware of. But he deffs would
Jacqueline simply has 0 ideas for a funky little tattoo, so she has 0 plans for one/want for one/need for one. Part of me is like, maybe she'd tattoo her scars?? But I think she leaves them as is. She thinks they're neat. They're tinged blue. Nobody ELSE has scars like that (you can imagine how this makes literally every other Frost feel lmao. Except the Twins, they're like "yes girl get it!" Fiera more so than Fino ;) I could MAYBE see her doing one with Dite? But neither of them are like, screaming OMG YES WE HAVE ONE ALREADY EVEN so take that with a smidgen of salt
Winter would not tattoo, but her sisters would! Autumn would get smaller ones but deffs in full colour. Summer is like MY BODY IS A CANVAS LET'S GO! She'd have even MORE colours than Autumn. Spring is a basic bitch and probably has a basic tattoo somewhere like a butterfly or a flower or something. Like, a really stereotypical "I got a tattoo omg!!" kinda thing! I WILL SAY. If she got a phrase in another language, Spring would Spell Check That Shit 100%
If Blossom wasn't a bunny, she'd have tattoos (I don't want to think about the logistics for an anthropomorphic-ish bunny getting a tattoo)
Grand Witches deffs have tattoos. Both of them. What are they? Idk! But they have them!
In terms of other Legates: I think Charlie would get a tattoo >:). Xander is a solid maybe. He could go either way. Day MAYBE and Night DEFFS and his are cool. I bet they're silvery and look like they are made of moonlight (they may very well be!). I already covered Jacquie and Dite (Dite would probably get a tattoo! Doesn't have any that I know of presently but deffs would) Myles I think has a thing about needles so he probably wouldn't get one unless Olivia went with him for emotional support. Olivia would NOT get a tattoo, but probably has the best ideas for them!
Upon further reflection, Winter is not a tattoo person BUT. DEFFS KNOWS HOW TO GIVE THEM. I feel like that's an unexpected hobby she'd have and that she's probably really good at it, too.
I hope this adds a second pinball to your pinballing ;) Sorry there's no concrete like OH YES THIS PERSON WOULD DEFFS GET THIS!! I am very much camp Jacquie and Myles, in that I think tattoos are very cool but A) have no idea what I'd get/want for a tat and B) DO have a thing about needles and would not want to even ATTEMPT to get one, my needle thing is that bad.
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rosykims · 1 year
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ok question does it still count as chronic pain if it comes and goes every couple of months ?
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loaksky · 8 months
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Hi I was wondering if you wrote or if you will write a part 2 to neighbour Ellie x reader, cause I would love to see how their relationship will progress and maybe there can be a bit of jealous Ellie and insecure reader, in like maybe they meet their exes or something like that
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neighbor!ellie x sunshine!fem reader, hurt + comfort / fluff / smut MDNI!! or we’re beefing!! / established relationship, wc: 5.2k
synopsis: things between you and ellie seem to be going great! that is until you pay her a visit at work to drop off lunch and find that the threads that tie her and an overfriendly coworker tangle too much for your liking.
content warnings: language, slightly mean!ellie makes a return, reader isn’t necessarily insecure, but a little unsure of the circumstances, 18 + content / filthy make-up sex that consists of: brief shower-sex, scissoring, fingering / oral (reader & ellie!receiving), thigh-riding, so much kissing and mushy feelings.
author’s note: in love with this idea ! been mulling over how to expand on their relationship & i feel like this is a great segue ! hcs below; leave some more scenarios for existing couples (emt!abby, collegebff!ellie or others) and i’ll answer them ! (also not proofread well like usual lmao)
main masterlist | tlou masterlist
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jealous!ellie & jealous!reader are SO different, but i feel like the outcome would be so…YUM.
feel like you’d be more reserved about being jealous.
like lately, it seems like things between you and ellie seem like they can’t get any better.
the two of you spend so much time together, whether it’s having picnics in the park with some pastries you make, testing out recipes after close at your cafe or having sleepovers at one or the other’s apartment.
ellie’s lowkey obsessed with you and at times it makes you blush because after the initial stages of feeling your relationship out, you find that ellie’s extremely vocal and outright with her affection for you.
and for the longest time, you don’t question it. don’t really say much because ellie’s particularly good at reassuring you even if you don’t ask.
it’s why you think you’re overreacting when you decide to surprise her and bring her lunch on a random afternoon in the middle of the week.
the top half of her coveralls hangs around her hips, dirtied white tank exposing tanned, inked flesh and lean muscle when you enter the lobby.
she’s leaning against one of the tool carts with her arms crossed over her chest, gaze unwavering.
when you trace her eyeline, you realize there’s another girl nearby bent under the hood of a shiny red car.
she says something imperceptible and suddenly ellie’s throwing her head back with a laugh, sound muffled by the sliding plexiglass.
“hey, receptionist is on break, can i help you with something?” a mechanic is poking his head into the lobby from an adjoining office.
“uh, i’m here for ellie?” the mechanic’s glancing through the glass into the main garage before standing from his rolling chair to dust his hands on his coveralls.
“yeah, she’s supposed to be watching the front,” he laughs. “too busy flirting with her lil girlfriend to pay attention.”
he doesn’t notice the way your face falls or how you almost drop the little canvas bag altogether.
you chance another glance at the two, find that the girl has emerged from under the hood and you swallow hard because god, she’s so fucking pretty.
doesn’t help that seeing her and ellie side-by-side makes you wonder if the two of you look that good together.
they look like they were made for each other and they even share similar interests! you don’t know a damned thing about cars and ellie’s gaze nearly glazes over every time you’re talking about your recipes and coffee pairings.
“uh, actually,” you stop him. “i don’t think she was expecting me, so i’ll just drop this off.”
he pauses.
“you sure? i can get her real quick, she’s not busy.”
ellie still hasn’t clocked you, so you shake your head.
“it’s fine,” you assure him. “i’ll talk to her later.”
he merely shrugs, meets you halfway for the canvas bag, and you’re quickly ducking out of the garage.
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“babe?”
ellie’s right on the dot, you realize, when you hear her through the cracked sliding door to the balcony.
you’ve just finished watering your plants and now you’re jotting down a quick brainstorm for the upcoming spring launch.
through the window, you see ellie kicking her shoes off at the entrance before assessing her surroundings and poking her head into your bedroom for good measure.
“babe?” she calls out.
you stand, tucking the little notebook under your arm before sliding back inside.
she seems to light up when she sees you, crossing the living room to meet you halfway.
“hey, els.”
you’re letting her engulf you in a hug, arms wrapping around your waist as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.
“missed you today,” she hums, rocking your weight from side to side.
“missed you too,” you say gently.
ellie’s pulling away a short distance, finger bumping under your chin so you’ll look up at her.
“why didn’t you say hi when you stopped in today?” she nearly pouts. “zack came in when we were slow and said that someone dropped something off for me.”
you shrug, unable to tell her that insecurity was rearing its ugly head and you didn’t know how to deal with it in that moment.
“my girl didn’t wanna eat with me?”
“sorry,” you mumble, burning up under the heat of her gaze. “i couldn’t stay long.”
her brows are furrowing, hands coming up to smooth your hair from your face and brush over your shoulders.
“everything okay, babe?”
you nod once, then twice.
“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?”
ellie’s watching you closely, fingers cupping your neck.
“talk to me,” she encourages softly. “did something happen?”
you swallow, shake your head, and put on your most convincing smile before leaning up to give her a peck on the lips.
“m’okay,” you tell her.
she doesn’t look convinced, but she also doesn’t wanna pry.
changes the subject instead.
“so does this mean, you’ll swing by and actually hang out with me soon?” she asks, body relaxing when you start smoothing over the wrinkles in her coveralls as a distraction.
you nod, smile widening when she starts peppering kisses all over your face.
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for a little bit, you forget about ellie’s coworker and you forget about the comment that zack made, but then you’re popping in again almost two weeks later.
they’re shoulder to shoulder in the body shop, looking at something under the hood of a silver pick up truck. ellie’s engrossed, but the girl’s fullblown staring, paying no mind to whatever ellie’s explaining in the engine bed.
makes you sick to your stomach thinking that if ellie so much as chances a glance, their noses could brush.
“hey receptionist is— oh.”
it’s zack, the same mechanic from last time.
he’s wiping his hands on an old towel as he emerges from one of the bays.
“ellie!” he shouts past the propped open door.
she nearly jumps out of her skin, parting from her coworker as she throws a cross look over her shoulder.
“your girl’s here,” he announces.
ellie’s straightening up, craning her neck even more before her face splits into a bright smile.
she’s abandoning the girl by the truck, jogging across the body shop to duck into the lobby.
“hi, angel.”
your cheeks warm when she slides her arm around your waist to pull you into her.
“gonna go on lunch break, don’t wait up,” she calls & you’re sparing the girl near the truck a glance.
her name’s emma if the stitching on the right breast of her coveralls is anything to go by.
she makes a show of taking you in from head to toe before her gaze cuts to zack and they seemingly share a wordless exchange.
oh.
you have no clue what to make of that, but ellie’s steering you from the lobby and out into the crisp air.
it’s still a little chilly outside, but you’re wearing one of ellie’s favorite sweatshirts and she’s shrugging on a hoodie hanging from a coatrack by the door.
“my truck?” she offers when a chill rips down your spine.
you only hum.
when the two of you are settled, her in the driver’s seat and you in the passenger’s, she’s taking the little bag with lunch containers and setting it on her dash before pulling you towards her to eliminate every inch of space between the two of you.
“whaddya doing?” you sigh out a laugh.
“i missed you,” ellie says simply.
“ellie, you slept over last night,” you squeak out a breathy laugh when her ice cold hands slide under the warmth of the red fleece. “we saw each other this morning.”
“so?” she replies petulantly. “wanna be with you all the time.”
you’re wearing a turtleneck underneath the sweatshirt so she’s nosing along your jaw before pressing a few soft kisses there.
“you’re so clingy recently, els,” you giggle, arms winding around her neck.
“duh.” and your belly flips when she doesn’t even deny it. “you’re so fucking cute and i just wanna keep you in my pocket all the time.”
that earns her a full-hearted laugh and you really begin to wonder why you let that girl with her stupidly perfect blown out hair and stupidly rounded ass and the most stupidly pretty face ever make you question your ellie.
you live in bliss for the duration of her forty-five minute break where she does a whole lot of eating, but not necessarily the food you made for her.
the windows are equal parts fogged and frosted by the time she’s done with you and you’re shimmying your jeans back up in the back seat of her truck as she shrugging the top half of her discard coveralls and her hoodie back on again.
“you didn’t even touch to food i made you,” you whine.
“i’ll eat it on my ten,” she assures you, and your toes curl when she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.
“liked what i had for lunch better,” she says so casually, your cheeks are on fire.
“ellie!”
“definitely need dessert when i get home,” she insinuates, leaning her weight over your blissed out body.
she plants a kiss on your mouth before climbing back into the front seat.
but, in the lobby, when she’s bidding you a farewell with another peck on the lips, promising she’ll try to come home early, you notice emma’s eyes again. they’re searing, laced with obvious annoyance.
ellie’s returning to her duties and you’re ducking into their restroom for a moment to splash your face with cool water.
ellie’s never given you a reason to doubt her, has been a perfect girlfriend since the beginning, but you can’t help yourself.
especially not when you’re ducking out and you hear it.
“so i’m not the only one surprised that her girl looks like that?” you think it’s zack, but you can’t be so sure.
“i dunno, she’s hot, but they don’t really match,” another voice sounds. “especially since her last…thing was with emma.”
and, wow, fuck, you hadn’t been expecting that.
“damn, i forgot about that,” maybe zack says. “it was at the party mel and them threw, right? when they fucked?”
you’d wanted to give the benefit of the doubt. maybe they’d been a thing once upon a time, kissed on occasion, but hearing it put so crassly makes you feel like you’re gonna throw up.
the bell’s tinkling hard against the glass when you throw the door open.
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and perhaps the situation with finding out about ellie and emma goes hand-in-hand with the way ellie experiences her jealousy.
maybe the fact that ellie still works closely with a previous situationship and is obviously on friendly terms with makes you withdraw a little.
you’re spending a lot more time at your cafe, readying for spring launch and brainstorming new recipes.
you don’t want to bore ellie, especially when you’ve been so in your head about everything lately, so you’re putting in more hours, coming home late at night.
truthfully, ellie’s devastated because she misses her girl :/ why are you always so busy suddenly?
so when a familiar face comes poking into the cafe a few weeks down the line, your eyes are as wide as saucers.
“wow, alex, is that you?”
she’s an ex who’d moved abroad for work a few years back. and the break up had been amicable enough, but she’d moved on and so had you.
the only contact the two of you keep is the occasional comment on social media and a text or two during the holidays.
she’s grinning ear-to-ear.
“what are you doing here?” you ask incredulously, setting the rag down on the bartop to round the counter.
you’d been in the middle of prepping to close up shop when the bells chimed against the glass.
“visiting my parents for a few weeks,” she answers. “thought i’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”
“great, i’m doing great,” you assure her with a warm smile. “what about you? how’s germany?”
“definitely miss the food here sometimes, but you know,” she shrugs and you’re letting out a laugh. “and...julia’s pregnant.”
and your brows are shooting up, arms wrapping around her middle.
“alex, that’s so exciting!” you cheer. “congratulations.”
her cheeks are red when you pull away.
“yeah,” she says softly, eyes gentle. “i’m so excited.”
and you’re glad to hear that things are working out for her, that she’s established herself well and she’s building the family she’s always dreamed of.
“and you?” she asks.
“what about me?”
“are you seeing anyone?”
it’s your turn to warm, fidgeting under her expectant gaze.
“i am,” you confirm.
her smile widens
“that’s great,” she says genuinely. “i’m glad. i hope they make you happy.”
and it really makes you draw into yourself for a moment because ellie does. she makes you so fucking happy, you don’t know what to do with yourself sometimes.
“yeah,” you hum. “she’s great.”
the two of you end up catching up a little as you close, and she even takes you up on your offer of visiting again for a tasting before she leaves!
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and this is most likely what sends ellie over the edge.
at first she didn’t know why you were suddenly so distant, knew you were dedicated, but didn’t know why you were so invested as of late.
recently, it’s been her popping into your apartment, but being disappointed to find that you’re not even home.
and the days that she does catch you, you’re pecking her on the lips and rushing out the door.
makes ellie question if there’s something she should be paying closer attention to.
honestly, she’s just really worried that she did something wrong, so as she’s trekking up the sidewalk to approach your little cafe with a bundle of cute flowers around 10 in the evening, she’s feeling a weird sense of deja vu.
finds that the open sign has been flipped and that the lights are dim, but nearly trips over her steps when she peers inside and sees you behind the counter.
you’re not alone, a tall figure leaned up against the bartop, obviously deeply interested in whatever you’re animatedly talking about.
you’re still wearing your apron, hair falling from its hold and a lump is lodging its way into ellie’s throat.
tugs gently on the handle to see that it’s locked and the motion catches both you and your company’s attention.
god, whoever you’re with is an absolute stunner and ellie’s swallowing hard as you round the counter and flit through the tables to come let her in.
“els, what are you doing here?” you ask, smiling softly.
barely registers what you’re saying because the girl you’re with has straightened and there’s something so put together and elegant about the brunette that makes a pang of insecurity begin to coil in ellie’s stomach.
“wanted to see you,” she says simply.
“oh,” you reply. “we were just finishing up here, i would’ve been home in like an hour.”
and that leaves such a sour taste in her mouth because a lot can happen in an hour, in forty-five minutes even.
“great, i’ll walk you home,” ellie says, tone pinched.
your brows furrow and you’re opening your mouth to ask ellie if everything’s fine, but alex is placing a casual hand on your shoulder to remind you she’s there and ellie can’t help but zero in on the way her slender fingers curl.
“alex,” she introduces, offering her other hand.
“ellie,” your girlfriend bites back, glancing at alex’s outstretched palm before glancing back up at her.
there’s a twinkle of knowing in alex’s eye as she nods thoughtfully.
“heard a lot about you,” she says simply.
ellie merely hums.
and god, you’re mortified because you’d spent the entire night raving about ellie even though alex was supposed to be giving you feedback on launch ideas.
you’d told her how kind and great ellie was. instead, here she is, ice cold and glaring.
“well...” alex turns her attention to you. “i really appreciate tonight, everything was phenomenal.”
you preen under the praise and ellie’s rolling her eyes, fist tightening around the stems of the flowers.
“of course, anytime,” you assure her. “thank you for visiting me again.”
and seeing the two of you side-by-side, ellie feels so small. because you’ve always been so pretty, so out of her league and the two of you look like a match made in heaven.
“always,” alex replies, and ever the instigator, she adds, “text me when you get home?”
“i will,” you tell her, brushing past ellie to lock her out. “goodnight, alex, be safe!”
she says something in return that evades ellie’s hearing, but she’s far too livid to even tune in.
you’ve barely locked the door behind her when ellie’s voice cuts through the tense air.
“who the fuck was that?” she asks sharply.
you turn on your heel, brows dipping because ellie’s rarely let her anger get the best of her.
“ellie, what are—”
“i asked you a question,” she says firmly.
you roll your lips, gaze downcast because such a good moment has been obliterated by ellie’s fiery temper.
“we dated a few years ago,” you answer honestly. “she was back in town for the next few weeks and i wanted to do something nice.”
ellie lets out a humorless laugh.
“so i’ve been worried sick for weeks because you wanna ghost me when you’ve really been parading around with your ex?” ellie huffs.
and okay, wow, you hadn’t really expected that from her because your ellie is usually relatively level-headed.
“this is only the second time i’ve seen her, ellie,” you argue. “we were friends way before we even dated and it was a clean break up. we were just catching up.”
ellie’s tossing the bouquet of flowers, now crushed by her unrelenting fist, onto the nearest table top.
“just catching up, huh?” she mocks. “so a romantic set up, just the two of you, is just catching up? you said not to wait up for you because you’d be caught up with work. good to know that screwing your ex is—”
“this is work,” you bite back. “i’ve been trying to get my bearings for this upcoming launch and she was kind enough to put up with all my crazy ideas and all my rambling,” then quietly, “given ninety percent of it was about you.”
“what, you couldn’t ask me?” ellie huffs. “you know i’d help you if you wanted me to!”
“i didn’t ask because i know all this shit bores you,” you say weakly. “alex was just being nice.”
that shuts ellie up, douses her anger like a bucket of ice cold water on a fire. and now she feels like a piece of shit because she hadn’t known that you felt that way.
“and she’s engaged,” you add, pulling away from her when she takes a step towards you. instead you busy yourself with gathering your spread and all the silverware. “they’re expecting a child.”
and fuck, ellie wishes she’d slowed down. wishes that she hadn’t talked out of her ass.
“i didn't—”
“you’re one to talk, ellie,” you add coldly. “you work in close proximity with a girl you used to fuck regularly. you’re still friends with her, and it’s obvious to every single soul imaginable that i’m just an obstacle to her and that she’s still interested. but i didn’t say anything even if it fucking ate away at me because i know you. you’ve never given me a reason to doubt us.”
that knocks that wind from ellie’s lungs because she hadn’t realized that you knew. just wanted to sweep it under the rug because her and emma were never serious and she didn’t want you worrying.
“wait, angel, i’m sorry,” ellie says. “i—”
you shake your head.
“whatever, ellie,” you whisper. “i have to close up.”
“c’mon, babe, don’t—”
“i don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” you cut her off. “i’ll be home soon, but i wanna be alone right now.”
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when you get home and see ellie’s sneakers by the door, you take in a deep breath and try to mentally prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation, but instead, you’re met with the smell of your favorite take out and a soft murmur from your vinyl player in the living room.
when you make it to the end of the corridor to peer into the kitchen, you see ellie taking down a few plates.
she’s glancing over her shoulder, body seemingly relaxing when she finds you standing in the archway of the kitchen.
“hey,” she greets softly, and you belatedly realize that her voice is hoarse.
“hi,” you reply.
“wanna eat first?” she asks you, but you don’t answer, too busy analyzing her.
you put two and two together; figure that she’s been crying if the red bags under her eyes and the dying flush on her cheeks is anything to go by.
she takes a step towards you and you seem to snap out of it.
“wanna shower first,” you tell her.
you hear her gulp.
“okay,” she says.
and you hate this. you hate being upset and you hate that she’s upset and knowing that ellie cried makes you wanna cry, so you’re taking a step towards her.
she’s glancing at you.
“shower with me?” you offer timidly.
ellie’s pushing off the counter, nodding eagerly.
and truthfully, ellie had every intention of keeping her hands to herself, but then you were asking her to help work the soap down your back.
then you were turning to face her to rinse under the stream of the showerhead. the sudsy water’s making its way down the column of your throat and the curves of your body and ellie’s tongue is so dry, she feels like it could crack in her mouth.
her hands settle on the narrow of your waist, right over the swell of your hips as she presses open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.
“i’m so sorry, angel,” she whispers, hands sliding to rest against the small of your back.
you give in even though you’re still in your head, arms looping around her neck as she brushes your hair to one side and starts paying a lot more attention to the spot right behind your ear.
“s’okay, els,” you assure her softly. “i’m sorry, too. i was being a brat.”
your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck, breath hitching when she grabs a palmful of your ass and breaks away from your neck to catch your lips between her own.
“you don’t know how much i love you,” she murmurs between kisses, sighing brokenly when the plush of your tits presses against her sensitive nipples.
you moan when one of her hands slides down your front and gently brushes over your clit.
“ellie,” you whimper.
“let me show you?”
your head is lolling back when the pads of her calloused fingers circle your entrance to gather the slick that’s accumulating there.
you nod.
“yeah, yeah, ellie, please,” you choke.
she’s reaching behind you to turn the shower off, ducking outside of the tiled space to grab your towel.
and she’s slow, meticulous as she dries you off, mouth watering when the cool air of the bathroom makes gooseflesh ripple over your smooth skin.
“you’re so fucking perfect,” ellie whispers, standing behind you in the mirror. “so fucking perfect and all mine.”
your eyelids are drooping shut as she discards the towel, hands wandering as her teeth sink into your neck.
“oh, fuuu—”
ellie’s jostling you back into your bedroom. when she’s about to push you back against the mattress, you’re spinning so that she’s falling against the unmade duvet, taking you with her.
and ellie’s gaze is glazing over when you spread her legs to reveal a pussy slick with need and a clit so swollen, it makes you salivate.
“what are you doing?” she whispers, fingertips denting the fat of your thighs.
“wanna ride you, els,” you whimper, climbing to straddle her heat. “wanna take care of you.”
one of her legs stretches to settle over your shoulder and you’re kissing her calf as your clits bump.
“fuck,” ellie chokes when you start rolling your hips. “fuck, wait, angel, just—”
the slip is delicious, obscene sound of your combined arousal echoing through the room to mingle with ellie’s throaty moans.
ellie’s used to watching you ride her strap, used to fucking you and giving you everything because it’s one of the things that makes her the happiest, but, fuck, she could get used to this.
“you gonna cream all over my pussy, ellie?” you whine, pace relentless as you ride her.
she lets out a breathy laugh.
“you feel how wet i am?” ellie gasps, thumb coming to nestle between your heat. the friction feels so fucking good against your clit, has you throwing your head back as you fuck her. “god, you’re fucking delusional if you think i’m not a hundred and ten percent obsessed with you.”
“oh fuck, ellie, your pussy feels s’good,” you whine, eyes watering when her other hand settles on your hip to guide you.
“does it, angel?” she moans breathily. “only you can get me like this.”
“you’re so wet, els,” you marvel. “your cunt’s so soft and so...so—”
“it’s all yours,” she whispers shakily, hips jerking because she’s close. “all yours, angel.”
and she’s crying out when you slip off of her, hands grabbing for you desperately.
she’s throwing her head back against your pillows when your lips latch onto her clit.
“oh, shit,” she moans. “wait, wait.”
but you don’t wait, in fact, your ministrations quicken, tongue lapping at the slick that gushes from ellie’s cunt.
“fuck, angel, i’m gonna—”
the broken moan that leaves ellie’s lithe body has you clenching your thighs. and you think she’s gonna cum, but her palm is firm against your forehead to push you away gently.
her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head when a string of spit webs from your chin to her clit.
“m’not cumming before you do,” she swallows. “this was supposed to be about you.”
“it is,” you assure her. “all i care about right now is making you cum.”
“jesus, you’re actually something else,” ellie sighs shakily, combing a tattooed hand through her damp locks.
you’re making a move to close in on her pussy again, but she’s pushing you onto your back, settling her achey cunt over your thigh as she circles both of your wrists in one hand.
“let me take care of you and you can do whatever you want with me for the rest of the night,” ellie promises, sloppy kiss turning into her licking into your mouth.
her fingers waste no time finding your folds, pads eager against your bud before dipping lower to tease at your entrance.
“how could you think i’d want any other pussy other than yours, angel?” she whispers against your mouth as she stuffs you knuckles deep. “this is all mine, you hear me? all fuckin’ mine.”
you nod, squirming against where she’s still got you confined with a bruising grip around your wrists.
“s’all yours, els,” you whimper.
“just like this pussy’s all yours,” she husks, hips rolling over the swell of your thigh. “would never fucking dream of giving myself to anyone but you.”
and god, ellie knows all the right things to say to have you winding tight.
you’re arching into her, jaw slack and eyes crossing as she hits that spot inside you that has you feeling fucking boneless.
“c’mon, angel,” she encourages you. “just once all over my fingers, then you can do whatever you want to me.”
the squelch has ellie’s thighs shaking as she rolls her hips, knuckles curling hard inside the warm heat of your needy pussy.
“don’t stop, els,” you beg her. “i’m gonna—”
she’s freeing your wrists, climbing from your thigh to settle on her knees at the end of the bed.
“wait, els, i’m gonna—”
and the moan that leaves you can be heard by the entire apartment block, no doubt, because ellie’s sucking your clit past her lips and eating you out like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do.
the shit she’s murmuring against your folds is filthy, has you trying to squeeze your knees together because ellie’s that good.
“ohfuckohfuckohfuck,” you cry out when she adds a third finger.
it’s all it takes because a few moments later, your back’s arching all the way off the bed, thighs vibrating as she continues to toy with you through your orgasm.
“that’s it, angel,” ellie whispers. “ride it out.”
your chest heaves through the final waves, a sheen of sweat making your dewy skin look like it’s glistening under the lowlight of your bedside lamp.
“you did so fuckin’ good for me,” ellie says gently, standing naked between your parted legs as your arm drapes over your eyes in embarrassment.
“stop hiding,” she scolds, climbing to straddle you.
her hands are wandering, smoothing over every available expanse of skin as you cover your face and shy away from her.
she’s shocked when she pries your arm away and finds tears welling in your eyes.
“babe,” she calls incredulously. “why are you—”
“we wouldn’t have been in this situation if i wasn’t so immature and just talked to you about it,” you hiccup.
ellie’s face is falling, pulling you up to wrap you in her arms.
“babe, stop,” she whines softly, rocking you as a shudder rips down your spine. “i should’ve said something and i definitely shouldn’t have acted the way i did earlier. if anything i was immature.”
“you’re such a good girlfriend, ellie,” you whimper. “and i’m...i’m sorry, i—”
“hey, hey,” she stops you firmly, peeling away from you to thumb at your chin. “don’t do that.”
and you feel like such a big fucking baby as ellie repositions the two of you so that she’s leaning against your headboard and she’s pulling you against her sweaty chest.
“i’m sorry, ellie,” you choke again.
“stop apologizing,” ellie croaks, and you realize that the emotions are welling inside of her as well. “none of this was your fault, angel. i should’ve been honest and just told you, but i was scared.”
you’re still hiccuping, ear pressed over her heart.
“you’re my first real girlfriend in a really long time, and it doesn’t help that you’re so grossly out of my league, and—”
“ellie,” you chide.
“i don’t wanna mess things up with you,” she admits softly. “especially after the way we started.”
“i’d never hold that against you,” you swallow.
“and that’s what makes it worse. i know you wouldn’t even if you should,” ellie whispers. “and then today, i saw you with someone else and it made me so fucking mad because the two of you look so good together. it made me feel like i don’t deserve you.”
“els.” and you’re crying harder now, arms winding so tight around her waist, she feels like she’ll burst.
“i’m sorry,” ellie says gently. “you’ve always been so fucking good to me and—”
you’re leaning up, kissing her to shut her up before she starts crying and she’s cradling your face like you’re the most fragile thing.
“i love you so fucking much, ellie,” you tell her between kisses. “let’s just...let’s just put this behind us, okay?”
she nods, pulls from your lips to nestle her face in your neck.
“i love you more, angel,” she murmurs against your skin. “you don’t even know.”
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neng © 2023
2K notes · View notes
here2bbtstrash · 1 year
Text
crybaby (explicit)
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genre: all pwp all smut babeyyyyyy
pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.
word count: 4.3k
contains: explicit sexual content!!!!!! like that's the whole fic lmao 😵‍💫 established relationship, marathon sex, wrist restraints/bondage, cocky yet eager sub!jungkook 🥵, soft dom!reader but she can be a lil tough, clothed tit play, objectification, she calls him bunny which i think is cute 🥺, spitting, dick riding, unprotected sex, fingers in mouth, humping/grinding, jk has a nipple piercing 🙈, overstimulation/multiple orgasms - for both of them hehe, vibrator use, jungkook (and reader!) pushing himself to his limits bc..... he's jungkook, he cries 🥲, reader finds it hot 👀, a lottttt of sweat & cum lol, cum licking/eating, blowjob, maybe some subspace if you squint, winners never quit 💪, talk of coming dry at the end, jk is kind of a little shit lmaooooo - alright i think that's it 😩
A/N: not me barely managing to get this up before the ticket sales start 😅 happy hunger games to y'all who have codes!!! this fic is a birthday gift to my love, my angel, my cunning linguist @moni-logues 💜 HAPPY (yesterday) BIRTHDAY bb, can't wait to marry you on our first date, it is the joy of my life to build castles in the air with you~
and god bless jk for his lives the past few weeks bc they breathed so much life into this regular degular "sub!jk" fic idea. i'm v obsessed with his personality and the way he always pushes himself "just a little more", whether it's in staying up til 5 am singing karaoke on his couch or giving his absolute all in a workout. just so in love with our bunny tbh, so i hope you enjoy this spicy version of him too!! 🥰
read on AO3!
~*~
You know your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.
He stays up late even when he’s exhausted, likes to do his workouts to failure, could spend hours in a tattoo session with the needle pressed to his skin and his bones humming from the buzz. Always holding out for as long as he can, always wanting just a little bit more before he calls it quits, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts. Because he wants to test his limits.
And today, you want to test them, too.
That’s why you text him to meet you in the bedroom, let him find you in nothing but one of his oversized Carhartt shirts, kneeling up on the bed as you affix a pair of purple silk restraints to the headboard.
There’s the soft creak of the mattress from Jungkook’s added weight, and you feel the heat of him as he crowds you from behind, hands dragging up the curve of your hips and taking the hem of your borrowed shirt with it.
“This was the emergency, huh?” The low murmur of his voice is chased by the cool touch of his lip ring as he drags his mouth up the nape of your neck. A blossom of arousal starts to unfurl in your core. “Wanted to use these?”
“Yeah,” you answer, feigning nonchalance as you give the silk a firm tug to test that it holds. Satisfied, you let yourself sink back into Jungkook’s touch, dropping your head against his shoulder and smiling when he leans down to brush his lips over yours. He hums a soft little sound into your mouth.
You cup your hand to the nape of his neck when you pull away to finish the thought. “Thought we could try them on you.”
The words are seemingly all your boyfriend needs to hear; he drops down onto the mattress so hard that he bounces a little. You can’t help but laugh at the way he scrambles to strip out of his sweatshirt, like he’s being timed, then hurriedly centers himself on the pillows, eyes glinting dark with desire.
When you first started talking to Jungkook, everything about him made you expect that he would be the one to call the shots. The good looks, the tattoos and piercings, the muscles— and definitely the motorcycle. But once you’d sat across from him at dinner on your first official date, only to watch him blush and fumble his way through a conversation, you started to suspect that maybe he preferred to follow rather than lead.
That thought was certainly confirmed the next time you saw him out in public: it’d been a full two weeks since your first date, with nothing but radio silence between you since. You were admittedly maybe a little too drunk when you spotted him out with his friends at the same bar you’d been dragged to by yours— drunk enough to have no problem walking right up to him to read him for filth, in front of all of his friends, for ghosting you.
Except he’d just blinked those big brown eyes up at you, mouth dropped open in disbelief, and quietly admitted that he’d been waiting all this time for you to text him.
One of his friends had clapped him on the back, laughing loudly as he corroborated Jungkook’s confession. “He’s been having midnight karaoke pity parties because he never heard from you. Please take this boy out again before his neighbors have him evicted!”
That night told you everything you needed to know about how the dynamics in your relationship would work out. That if you wanted something, there was a very good chance Jungkook wanted it, too.
Which is why it doesn’t surprise you that your boyfriend is already sprawled out half-naked on the bed beneath you, arms folded behind his head in a way that makes his biceps bulge, dangerously attractive.
His mouth pulls into a cocky, flirtatious grin. “Ah, so you wanna use me?”
“I do,” you murmur, straddling your thighs over his torso and leaning up to take the smooth purple silk between your fingers. He offers you one hand before you even have to ask for it, and takes advantage of the other’s last few minutes of freedom to paw at you over your shirt. His tattooed fingers seek out your breast and squeeze, his thumb flicking lazy strokes over your nipple.
You tug the knot of the restraint to tighten it, then look back just as Jungkook closes his lips around the clothed bud of your breast. The rough drag of cotton against your sensitive skin makes you hot all over, your nipple stiffening easily at the rub of his insistent tongue.
“How’s that? Too tight?”
He smirks with your tit still in his mouth, soaking a wet spot into your shirt, teeth scraping gently. “Could be tighter.”
“You are such a show-off,” you huff, more endeared than aggravated as you redo the knot, this time as tight as you can manage. Jungkook pulls against it teasingly, but it does actually seem to hold him in place, and you can feel a dull thud between your legs at the flex of his muscles on full display, the image of him already half-helpless beneath you.
“I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he says, as if in explanation, giving your breast a final playful jiggle before you tug his other hand off to tie it up, too.
“Well, Jeon Jungkook,” you retort with a smirk and a grunt of effort as you lean over him to tug the knot tight. You glance down to find him already using the leverage of his restraints to pull himself up so that he can continue to nuzzle his face into your shirt between your tits, abdominals shaking a little from the effort, undeterred despite the loss of both of his hands.
You take his jaw in your grip and scoot yourself further down his body, dipping in to plant a kiss on his soft lips.
“Are you gonna be a good little toy for me?”
“Uh-huh,” he grunts, and you enjoy the tease of hovering just past where he can reach, watching him strain up toward your mouth to seek another kiss and fall ever so short.
You can feel arousal already dripping from your folds as you slide further down the bed, slipping off from on top of Jungkook to easily rid him of his joggers and briefs. His dick smacks against his stomach, thick and hard; wet, too, at the pretty brown tip. You toss his clothes over the edge of the bed, then strip your own shirt to follow before lowering yourself between his spread legs.
The muscles in Jungkook’s thighs tighten with visible anticipation as you hover above his cock, letting the heat of your breath fan out over him, not unlike the warm afternoon air leaking in through the cracked bedroom window, the first taste of spring. You can hear the wet clicks of Jungkook’s tongue in his mouth.
“Easy, bunny,” you murmur, and then you work up a mouthful of saliva and spit it right onto the head of his dick.
He hisses in a breath at the splatter of it, then gasps a soft little sound when you take him in your hand to slip your fist down the length of him. That’s Jungkook all over; always so eager, always so sensitive.
“What do you think?” you muse, your mouth ticking up as you feel Jungkook’s hips roll into your grasp. “Think it’s ready for me, baby?”
“‘Sready,” he grunts, teeth clenched. “Use it, jagi.”
You waste no time, crawling back up Jungkook’s body to settle your hips over his, flattening your palms against his chest. He’s still squirming, thighs flexing against the bed as he rocks up in a desperate attempt to find the wet heat of your cunt, and you giggle as you work yourself backwards until the head of his dick catches on your entrance.
It’s a bit of a stretch, but you’re wet enough to take it. You bite down on a smug smile as you manage to seat yourself on him hands-free.
“Fuck, love when you do that.” Jungkook’s voice is a low growl, and you slide a hand up the firm definition in his chest and slowly start to rock yourself along his length. His cock fills you up like he was made for it; you can feel every detail of him drag against your ridges, trailing sparks of pleasure as you tilt your hips to drive him right into your sweet spot.
Jungkook’s head kicks back against the pillow as a groan rips through him. There’s a gentle crease in his brow, furrowed in the way that tells you it’s so good: the tight heat of your pussy, the slick stretch of it when you work it on him. You ride him rough, make him take it like a good boy.
Another noise stutters out of Jungkook, chased this time by a huff of breath that it takes you a second to realize is a laugh, the tone caught halfway between shy and horny. You watch the way he squirms, restless against his restraints, like he can’t help himself.
He answers before you can ask. “The way your tits— fuckin’ bounce— fuck, I wanna touch you.”
The feeling sinks in as you watch him writhe beneath you, as you shove your hips back harder to pull more desperate sounds out of him. It’s fun, not letting him have what he wants, makes you drip that much more down the length of him.
“You can’t.”
“I know,” he grunts, wrists tugging uselessly. “It’s hot— that I can’t.”
“It is,” you concede, feigning composure despite the hitch in your breath, the way you’re already close to the edge and pushed that much closer by having Jungkook like this. Tied up, all yours, free to do with as you please.
And still fighting against his fucking restraints.
“Think I could rip these?”
It’s like your body acts faster than your pleasure-driven mind can keep up with: all at once, you’re tracing the pouted curve of Jungkook’s bottom lip, then slipping two fingers past it into the heat of his mouth.
“Shh, bunny,” you murmur. He blinks up at you, glassy-eyed as you pet over his tongue, all lush and wet on your fingertips. “Toys don’t talk.”
You press down more firmly as if for emphasis, enjoying how his soft parts give so easily to your touch, and then Jungkook outright moans around your fingers in his mouth.
The needy little sound makes your pussy pulse hot between your thighs.
“Fuck,” you hiss as you take him to the hilt, changing the stroke of your hips to grind against your toy, used solely to get yourself off now. Humping, really, rubbing your clit over the smooth skin of his abdomen where he’s blooming feverglow, flushed with need. Jungkook’s eyes flicker back in his head at the way your pussy’s taking him, squeezed tight like a vice and gushing wet. Working raw sounds out of him, his jaw gone slack; you can feel the blunt edge of his teeth and his heavy, shaky breath on the palm of your hand.
Your thighs shift to spread wider and the next drag of your clit is at just the right angle that pleasure surges up in you, undeniable, overwhelming. It’s all you can do now to chase your release, to keep rocking yourself into it, Jungkook’s thick cock plugged up inside of you and drool slicking out of his mouth to drip down your wrist.
“Gonna make myself come on my pretty little toy,” you manage to gasp.
Jungkook’s eyes find yours, burning intensity, the way he gets, and then he closes his lips tight around your fingers in his mouth and sucks, as if he’s begging to be used, and it sends you over the edge all at once. Your head tips back as your orgasm kicks through you, white noise pleasure, enough to get lost in.
Hips still rolling, you grind yourself through it, the waves of your climax swelling and receding again, until you finally drop forward against Jungkook’s chest, breathless and buzzing all over.
You let your fingers slip out of his mouth, exhale a laugh as they skip over the defined ridges of his stomach when you wipe your hand dry, taking full advantage of the fact that he’s powerless to stop you.
“Shit, that was hot.”
Jungkook’s voice is hoarse with desire as you shift to find the curve of his neck under your mouth, trailing kisses until your lips brush over the pretty lines of ink just behind his ear. He’s still thick and stiff inside you, with a steady pulse-throb that tells you how badly he needs to come, how worked up he is from being used as your personal hump-toy.
“Yeah,” you echo, paired with a tentative rock of your hips that makes your cunt flutter, overstimulated, tugs a little whine out of Jungkook, too. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth as you breathe against his flushed skin.
“Think I— wanna keep using my toy. Kinda feel like being greedy.”
Jungkook’s cock twitches, shameless, at your admission, again when you flick a thumb over the silver jewelry studded through his nipple. There’s a part of you that wants to keep him like this, his leaking-hard dick filling you up while you purr nasty shit in his ear, just to see if he can come from it.
“Might ride it until I break it.” You scrape your teeth up his neck and he moans. “Gonna take all I can give you, bunny?”
His throat jumps visibly as he swallows, fights to gasp a desperate “uh-huh”. Answers with his body, too, arching up to press himself deeper into you, rubbing the slick, hot tip of his cock into your front wall in just the right way to melt pleasure down your spine. You reward his eager submission with a soft kiss, then lick along the seam of his lips, enjoying the sweet little noises that pour into your mouth when you open him up.
Still intertwined, his tongue stroking over yours, your hand goes fumbling for the nightstand, comes away with the slender cylinder of your vibrator, and switches it on before slipping it down to press between your bodies.
“Oh my god,” Jungkook groans as you nestle the shuddering bullet between your folds and find the bud of your clit. You know he can feel it too from the way his hips jerk beneath you, the steady buzz engulfing his cock as you squeeze your pussy around him, all lush sensitivity from your first orgasm. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”
“You can.” The words are hardly more than a warm exhale from your mouth to his, your lips brushing. “But I’m not gonna stop.”
You don’t give him time to respond or even heave in another gasp of air before your thumb finds the button at the base of your vibrator, clicks it once, then again.
“F— ahh!”
Jungkook’s body jolts like a live wire as he falls apart beneath you. You sit up to take in the whole of him, your free palm slipping to the jut of his hip, fingertips splayed out and pressed heavy to anchor.
Pinned down and helpless, he trembles through the hot rush of his release, dick buried deep and pulsing as it all comes spilling out of him.
“That’s it, baby,” you coo. Your nails scratch lovingly against his skin to coax him out of it— taking such good care of your toy. His breath is punching out of his chest in these ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he whimpers through the comedown. So fucking beautiful like this.
The hum of the vibrator rolls through you, strong enough with the change in angle that your eyes drop shut to focus on the feeling.
Jungkook whines when you circle your hips with him still tucked up inside of you— it’s a wrecked little noise, high and sweet, underscored by the thick squelch of his cum starting to leak back down his shaft. Your thighs tense just right from the filthy sound of it, and then it’s all throbbing velvet glow in your core as you clench up and come on his cock again.
“Fuuuuuck, bunny,” you groan up to the ceiling, your head tipped back as it washes over you. “God, yeah.”
You flick the vibrator off when it gets to be too much, let it go rolling down the mattress— the bedroom feels bigger for the silence. Sweat slicks at the back of your knees, warm spring breeze still licking through the window to flutter the sheer-gauze curtains.
You’re fluttering too, all over: the kick of your heartbeat, the breath stuttering out of your lungs. The throb of your cunt, split open and drooling out juice, messy-wet fresh fruit.
The sound of the bedsheets shifting has your lashes flickering open again, and there’s Jungkook. Dark hair fanned out on the pillow, wrists bound, and that look in his eyes. Like he can take a little more. Like he’s waiting for your cue. Like there’s this whole-heart want brimming up inside of him, making his blood run hot.
He’s still hard between your legs.
“Go on then,” you tell him. “Give me another one.”
With a concentrated growl, Jungkook flattens his feet to the bed, grips tighter to his restraints for leverage, and starts to pound up into you. You can feel an overstimulated shudder in the stroke of his hips, how his cockhead twitches, sensitive, as it rubs over your g-spot. But he doesn’t stop; doesn’t even lose his rhythm.
He fucks you like a machine, and it’s all you can do to brace your palms against his chest and tip forward, rocking yourself down to meet him thrust for thrust.
The harsh slap of body on body is almost enough to drown out the rest: your open-mouthed panting, Jungkook’s groan when your nails dig crescent moon slivers into his tan skin, the gravel edge to your words, “Yeah, like that, fuck me just like that.”
It takes you a second to notice, the sound buried beneath it all, but then it floats through— Jungkook’s sucking his breath in through his teeth now, his jaw tight. You can see the jump of a muscle working there.
“Does it hurt, baby?” you gasp, more air than voice.
Jungkook’s head drops back against the pillow, brow pinched from the focus of keeping his pace steady. He’s breathless, too, when he answers: “Feels good.”
“Feels good because it hurts, huh? Is that how you like it?”
A strangled noise tears out of his throat, and he shoves up even harder, like he wants to fuck you into the shape of him. You splay one hand over the column of his throat and watch his pretty brown eyes blink-blink back at you, and then you have to bury your moans in the crook of his neck as you come hard.
The world around you returns a little at a time. First, the tremble of your tired thighs, the dull ache that’s already started to bloom at the bend of your knees. Then, Jungkook’s body curved up against yours, hips still slow-rolling as you exhale in hot, jagged bursts against his skin. There’s the distinct drip of his cum sliding out of you, and all the sticky-wet places where it’s slicked up the swell of your ass.
“Shit,” you laugh when you manage to find the breath for it. “That was crazy.”
Jungkook shifts a little, but doesn’t respond, and then he makes this wet, soft gasp. You realize he’s shaking beneath you.
You sit up so fast the room spins; your tether is Jungkook’s face, cupped lovingly now between your palms.
“Oh, baby.”
A fat teardrop traces a path down his cheek. Another threatens the dark border of his lashes. He can’t wipe them away with his wrists tied up, but you can see him trying to hold back even as a sob shudders through him, his chest heaving.
“You okay, my love?” you murmur, swiping a thumb across his face. He sniffles, nods, hiccups a little. The tip of his nose is flushed pink. “Shoulda told me to stop, if it was too much.”
“It feels good,” he insists, and his voice cracks around the words. “It’s just a lot. But ‘m not— don’t wanna stop.”
“No? You sure?”
Jungkook sucks his lip ring into his mouth as he nods again, sniffs again. That sends a bolt of something through you.
“You’ve been so good to me,” you praise, and you tip your ass back until his softening cock slips out, smeared glossy-white with your shared release. Jungkook’s still wound-up, pulled so tight inside himself that he flinches when you slip a hand down to ease his legs apart, sliding lower on the bed to slot yourself between them.
“Can I take care of you, bun?” The question’s posed sweetly, chased with a flutter of your lashes and kisses dropped down on the flat plane of his abdomen. “I’ll be gentle.”
He whimpers— answers in the way his hips lift up to meet your mouth.
Your hands press flat to Jungkook’s broad thighs, and you can feel the overwhelmed static-shiver beneath your palms, little tremors that jolt through his muscles. Head dipped low, you drag your tongue up his length and it punches a thick sob out of him, hips stirring like he’s trying to crawl up the bed. But you just keep going, pin him down and make him take it, working broad flat stripes over the whole of his shaft, root to tip. Tasting him, salt and slick and your own heady flavor; you lick him clean.
Jungkook comes quietly this time, feet flexing restless on the bed as you tongue it all out of him. You swipe two fingers through the mess on his stomach and suck that up, too.
Humming around the digits in your mouth, you surface from between Jungkook’s legs to take him in: eyes closed, face wet with tears. You can see the rise and fall of his chest as he gasps for air, shaky, coming down from it.
“Alright baby,” you soothe, shifting up to straddle his chest, knees sinking into the sheets. “All done now, just breathe. Gonna untie you.”
Reaching up, you gently tug open the knot on one restraint, then the other, easing Jungkook’s limp arms to the mattress. Your thumbs find his wrists to massage soft love-circles in case he’s gone numb there, gently coaxing him back to earth.
“Did so good for me, bunny.”
There’s a whimper, and then Jungkook’s surging up to kiss you, forceful enough that you give a little hum of surprise against his lips.
His hands are all over you, all at once, tugging at your legs to drag them forward until you’re flat on your back on the mattress. Your sore thighs shake when he shoves them up and apart, and then a sharp buzz rolls right over the bud of your clit and you keen. Fuck, when did he even grab the vibrator?
“Wanna make you come again,” he pants, and you smile even as your spine arches off the bed. Of course. You should’ve known.
It’s Jungkook all over, you think, hyper-focused on your pleasure even when he’s out of commission, and then you feel the head of his cock push inside and you both gasp. Your cunt aches, so swollen that it’s like he’s stretching you out all over again when you take him to the hilt.
“Oh my god,” you breathe. Jungkook’s hips snap, punctuated by a strangled grunt of effort, but he keeps going, making soft little sweet-pain whines with every thrust, brow scrunched as he brute-forces his way well past overstimulation.
He’s still crying, you realize.
Tears roll down his face and drip onto your collarbone, and everything’s somehow hotter for it. His length is slick, painted in the stored-up remnants of his cum, and you can hear the squish of your folds at the base of his cock each time he fucks it all back into you, so dirty it makes your head spin.
“J-just like that, baby,” you groan, overwhelmed; you can barely get the words out. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”
Jungkook buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him shaking, dripping, still rabbiting his hips into you, and then the hum of pleasure reverberating through your body explodes. Your clit throbs with an orgasm that feels endless, dizzying, divine. Jungkook outright sobs as your walls pulse pulse pulse around him, begging for every last drop.
When it’s all too much, you swat at his hand, mumbling shapes that aren’t words until the vibrator’s switched off and tossed away. He pulls out with a thick wet sound and the hiss of his breath between his teeth.
Together, you come down slow. Exhaling staccato, limbs tangled, bodies flushed and sweat-sticking.
Jungkook moves first: flops onto the mattress next to you, entirely exhausted, the way you’ve seen him get after a particularly rough workout. Scrubs at his face with one hand, this shy laugh fluttering out of him. “Can’t believe I cried. Ah, so embarrassing.”
You turn onto your side, tugging his hand away so you can press a kiss to his open palm. “Don’t ask me why but… in the moment? Very hot, actually.” A flush colors his cheeks and you giggle. “My perfect little crybaby.”
He flashes you his signature cocky grin, eyes squeezing shut as it morphs into something nearer to a wince. “Fuck, I’m so sweaty.” A breathless gasp, again. “And my dick hurts. I think I came dry that last time.”
“Poor baby,” you coo, not quite sincere. “You really could’ve stopped at… what, three?”
Eyes closed and still smirking, he shakes his head, damp hair falling in his face. “No I couldn’t have— I’m Jeon Jungkook.”
“You certainly are.”
3K notes · View notes
justalittleficsideblog · 10 months
Text
Not so Rough!
Obey me boys x fem!reader
synopsis: after a rather hectic night, the boys misunderstand a situation between you and Mammon. oh well... right?
a/n: I have had this in my brain for like two weeks now lmao, just a funny situation i thought of!
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You rolled out your shoulders as you stepped into the dining room, wincing as you stepped down towards the table. You observed the brothers setting their table, Beel anxiously waiting for food while his other half dozed off in the chair.
“Late night at the restaurant, love?” Asmo cooed, his head tilted to the side as he gave you a once over.
You nodded, every muscle groaning in protest as you slid into the chair. You flinched as you felt your legs relax, wearily stretching them out. You sucked in a breath through your teeth as you felt one of your calves ripple.
Your back felt sore too, thanks to someone’s greedy fingers after your late shift.
“Mammon didn’t go easy on me afterwards either,” you rolled your eyes, catching a glimpse of said offender striding into the room. He was looking better than you were, damn demon blood.
“Hey! You said you wanted it deep, not my fault,” he scoffed, sliding down onto his chair across from you.
You heard a cough. Satan cleared his throat, pushing aside his tea that was in front of him.
“Yes! Deep not so rough. My body feels like it’s been brutalized.” You yawned, attempting to stretch out your back as you swung your hands over your head.
A clang from the kitchen snapped you out of your daze. Levi sure was clumsy on kitchen duty today.
Asmo was smiling in your direction, his head resting on his newly manicured nails.
“Darling, was my brother here harsh on your delicate frame after your grueling shift?” he pouted. You now noticed Belphie was wide awake, him and Beel gaping towards you.
You ran a hand through your hair. “Ugh, yes. I was already tense and sore from being on my feet all night. But he,” you pointed an accusatory finger. “—insisted on “helping me out” even though I said no—”
You made air quotations while sticking your tongue out at him.
“Mammon!” you jumped as Satan boomed out near you.
“I cannot believe this, to think you would take advantage of her!” he seethed, fingers gripping the table as he stood.
“Woah! Hey! I wasn’t takin’ advantage of anyone!” Mammon yelped, hands thrown up in defense. “I just thought I could help ‘er relax, is all!”
Asmo snorted into his drink, “Not much relaxing you could be doing.”
“What did you say?”
You noticed the brothers were bickering to each other, making pointed comments towards Mammon more than anything. The kitchen had gone oddly quiet…. When was breakfast coming? You were starving.
“Listen love,” Asmo purred, grasping your hand in his. “I would be much gentler to you than this brute.”
“Hey! Who’re you calling a brute?!”
“Well… you did have a hard time letting me go,” you shot a pointed look towards Mammon, rubbing a sore spot on your shoulder absentmindedly.
“It’s not my fault you kept squirming!” he huffed, kicking his legs up onto the table.
“Well yeah! It freakin’ hurt!” you tossed back at him.
“enough.”
You could’ve sworn the room dropped several degrees with the way everyone shivered. Goosebumps rose across your arms as you took a figurative glance towards the eldest.
His aura was damning, ominous fingertips tap tap tapping across the table.
“Mammon,” his eyes cut to yours. “MC.”
His eyes were slits, wings splayed widely as he leaned backwards into his chair, “I cannot control you as much as I would like. But please do refrain from discussing your intimate interactions at the dinner table.”
You froze.
Wait…. WHAT?
“Intimate…. Lucifer, what in the fresh hell are you talking about?”
Even Mammon looked puzzled, eyes searching his brothers for an answer. Belphie sighed, rolling his head back as he murmured something to Beel, who looked slightly alarmed when his eyes shot up to meet your own.
Satan now was sitting back down, a blank stare towards the table was his only response.
Lucifer himself pinched his nose, irritation rising.
“oh… my god.” The realization of what you and Mammon had been arguing back and forth about finally surfaced. They didn’t think you really meant… that right??
You buried your face into your hands, face flaming in embarrassment. “We didn’t do… that. My shoulders and feet were killing me from carrying those damn heavy trays and walking around so much. Mammon felt bad so he offered to rub out the knots in my shoulders and feet.”
He shrugged, “But you were so tense! I really had to work out your muscle—”
Asmo let out a cackle, incredibly amused by everyone’s astonished faces.
“So that’s how it is,” Beel chirped, returning to snacking on some sort of devildom fruit in front of him.
Seriously, what was taking the food so long…?
Lucifer let out an extended sigh, looking almost. What, relieved?
Now it was Mammon’s turn to catch up, realizing the situation while everyone was staring at him in amusement.
“N-no! o-of course it wasn’t anything like that…” he sunk deeper into his chair, head tilted down in embarrassment.
You couldn’t help but giggle. What an interesting conversation to start of the morning.
Both yours and Beel’s stomach gurgled, indicating it was getting past time to be fed.
“I’ll go check on Levi,” you stood. “I’m surprised he wasn’t freaking out over this conversation.”
You walked towards the kitchen, pushing the door open further as you searched for a familiar blue-haired male.
“Levi—oh shit!!”
There, among the flour and pans, laid Levi. Passed out.
“Oh dear,” Asmo sighed as he leaned against the door frame. “The shock probably got him.”
You groaned, stepping over him to get breakfast started.
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ventique18 · 8 months
Text
Papa 🐉 with triplets HCs
When going overseas for official duties, he prefers not to be cooped up in that weird iron bird creature (it's an airplane, hun). So he instead flies to the country in his dragon form. Imagine people's awe when this gigantic, magnificent creature lands gracefully, lowers his head down carefully, and out of his mouth hops not one, not two, but three little dragons. They're so tiny you could swear they're cute little dogs.
He always goes to meetings clad in heavy robes. More often than not though, his mysterious cloak has a peculiar feature: it produces three sets of giggling voices every once in a while, especially when the room goes deadly silent.
Once an hour passes though, three little tykes get magicked out of the cloak like how a bunny hops out of a magician's hat. The wyrmlings like to climb on and off papa's back and munch on his horns. Everyone could only glance in amazement at how strong their Majesty's neck muscles must be to withstand the weight.
The three siblings still have very small wings but would always attempt to fly. 🌸 always almost has a heart attack when they inevitably come crashing down from their disproportionate weight, but 🐉 would save them the last second with his magic. He'd laugh loudly and hug 🌸 to reassure them none of their babies would get into accidents while he's alive.
I say accident because the three would frequently get hurt on purpose anyway. Their parents don't understand why, but one of their hobbies seem to be beating each other up in any way they could think of. 🐉🌸 would often wake up in the dead of the night because one sibling hurled another off the bed, simply because he/she was hogging 🌸's chest apparently. 🌸's chest is their favorite snuggle spot.
While 🐉 frankly doesn't have all the time in the world, he strictly employs a 8-5 work hour like a regular person. He doesn't really mind working but ever since he's started a family, he believes this is finally his god-given grace so he'll do it properly. His spouse is very capable in assisting him so they never really had problems with this arrangement.
So he likes to be closer to his babies and feeds them personally while it's still normal. He kinda just force-feeds them mashed food with a spoon in a row though. "Can't you make it more fun? Like, open wide, here comes the flying broom!" "I am simply not a sappy person." "You feed me while saying cheesy shit though..." "I cannot very well say those kinds of things to my children."
When he bathes them, he makes them line up and dunks them into a pool one by one. When they're in their dragon form, he scrubs them with a brush like he's doing laundry.
He hangs them on a clothesline to dry them on a sunny day lmao. "What are you doing to our babies??" "What? They enjoy it." Fair enough, the little gremlins are giggling.
When 🐉🌸 gets one those snazzy refrigerators with a water faucet and ice dispenser in front, the siblings like to sit on top of each other's shoulders so they could steal ice cubes for themselves. Or lap at the running water like thirsty dogs.
Grim has dedicated water bowls all over the place because he finds it hard to pour from a pitcher, and the feral siblings actually prefer lapping from those than go to the refreshments table to fetch a drink. The first time 🐉🌸 saw this, they were so shocked they kinda just stared blankly.
"Are... Are they actually dogs..." "I do not know, at this point." "Did you do this too when you were little?" "We did not have any semblance of a pet so I do not think so." Lilia reveals later though, that 🐉 drank from the damn toilet once.
He likes teaching them all manners of things. He gets a bit too intense sometimes though, what with them failing over and over again on what he thinks to be simple tasks, so 🌸 has to remind him gently that they are not him and shouldn't ever be him. He lets up and smiles. Yes, this is what children are supposed to be.
He legitimately doesn't have any ounce of experience with fatherhood and was suddenly thrust with three, so 🌸 honestly thinks he's a bit clumsy when it comes to taking care of them. Really clumsy and callous, actually.
But when 🌸 chances upon their three babies curled up against him, with him napping soundly and still holding an illustrated book on gargoyles and their history (goodness, he never changes), they thought he wasn't so bad after all.
Thinking harder about it though, what with him carrying the weight of the country while carrying the weight of three chubby babies and a feral cat, he might be the best father ever, after all.
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yandere-kokeshi · 4 months
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Hi! I hope you're having a nice day
I'm just wondering if you can make a yandere ghost or price with a s/o who has a other boyfriend fic?
Thanks<3
(if you don't have time for this, it's okay)
— Such Waste
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Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, suggested age gap, swearing, talks about reader who grew up in an abusive family; current-bf is abusive/has an unhealthy relationship; reader is slightly naive, violence, and detailed blood..
A/N: this one was pretty hard for me to finish so sorry if it's dull or simply not well; I'm not very happy with it lmao. Enjoy! :]
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Inserting the key into the door with a small click!, and opening it to your usually, scattered apartment, you sighed — heavily. 
Today was grueling. Not only was your work office incredibly demanding, but it was possibly draining what was left of your very soul. Your bones and stiff muscles were hurting. Begging for you to get more sleep than having 2 – 4 hours of naps every day.
You took off your shoes by the front door and put your belongings on the table; re-footing your steps backwards, to put your keys on the bookshelf for remembrance. Though, you were rudely interrupted as your phone buzzed multiple times, and you let out yet another sigh. 
In your bones, you had a feeling — an immediate feeling of who it was.
Grabbing your phone in the back pocket, you whisked it out and typed in your passcode before seeing multiple, if not, tons of missed calls and text messages from your current boyfriend.  
Liam: Are you srsly ignoring me? It was a joke. — sent at 8:23 pm
Liam: baby, come on. You passed your break. Just answer me. — sent at 8:57 pm
Liam: answer the fucking phone! Are you dumb? Pick up the phone!!!! — sent at 9:21 pm
Liam: if you don’t answer, it's over. — sent at 11:48
You rolled your eyes, feeling anger rise in you again. You chose to send a small message. Who would’ve thought the blue-eyed, blond hair and a tooth gap combo of a man would be the best fit? Not you, apparently. 
You: Got caught up with work. Sorry, we can talk more about this tomorrow. I’m gonna head to bed. Night.  — sent at 12:19 pm
While Liam was a nice guy, he was slightly controlling and immature. Always wanted to know who or where you were, why you were hanging out with people he didn’t know, and if you loved getting unwanted attention. Sometimes, fights got so bad that your elderly neighbors had to call the police to separate the two of you for a few nights. 
Poor Lucy. Wonder how she still deals with you being next door.
Groaning, you put your phone back into your back pocket, before your hands rubbing over your face in exhaustion. 
Not only was your boss extremely cranky and rude today, but everyone was on edge due to his behavior. You couldn’t even talk to your coworkers without them using the excuse of ‘I have to leave’ whenever he steps foot into the room. Plus, the stress of bills, your current boyfriend, and the harassment was getting to your breaking point. 
God, you hated this job. But it paid your bills. That’s all you cared about, right?
You scoffed, feeling your back prick and pop in places that sounded like it shouldn’t. Looking at the fridge in your kitchen, you slumped over and walked over to it, talking to yourself as you opened it, reaching down for the leftover pizza box that you didn’t get to finish last night.
Barely eating a few pieces, you were already heading down the hallway to your bedroom, peeling off your sweaty work clothes. However, something stopped you in the tracks that made your heart jump right out of your chest and into your mouth. 
Roses. Roses were on your bed. Sure, it was beautiful. The lilac, reddening color shining in your room was gorgeous. 
But who put them there?
You stared at them. Who the hell was in your apartment? Was it maintenance? Maybe a surprise gift they gave out for people living here in the poor-run down apartments?
No. It couldn’t be. Rarely do they ever give you things — especially flowers. What and who the fuck?
“Do you not like them?” 
You jumped at the sudden rough voice, dropping your pizza on the floor and whipping around, seeing a giant man sitting in your favorite chair in the corner of your bedroom; wearing a thick, menacing skull balaclava, piercing your skin like a knife. 
“Who… the fuck are you!” you shouted. Your feet stepped back, watching him as he repositioned himself — his elbows now resting on the armrests of the chair, and leaning forward into the obvious comfy chair. You couldn’t help but judge the guy. Who wears a skull mask other than on Halloween? Was he a killer? Going to slice you—!
“I would think you’d know that with the stuff I gave you.” 
A chill ran down your spine. So was this — no, this was the guy. 
The man who left your favorite chocolate on your window seal each morning, the sweet notes of compliments, sometimes bearing suggestions on things you should wear that day. And the huge bouquet on the front door, which was soon transported to your dinner-table, that was left every Friday.
Oh, my g-d.
“Holy shit,” you gasped, finally looking at his outfit, seeing the Britain flag sewed on his Khaki pants. It’s military. What the fuck did you do? “Did I break the law?” you hushed out, terrified at the man.
However, the man in front of you snickered. “Doubt you’d have the guts to break the law, sweetheart.” 
“I– what?” you looked at him dumbfounded. Who the fuck was this guy? 
“Ya’ heard me, only have a speeding ticket,” he remarked, making you dart your eyes toward behind you to the hallway, seeing the front door before back at him. “Pretty impressive for your age, if ya’ ask me.”
Your brain short-circuited. “How… do you know that?” you posed, feeling your breathing quicken. “I have so many questions,” you added. But yet, the man stared at you with his darkening eyes. Didn’t help that your room was dimmed. You really should’ve fixed that light. 
He stared at you before speaking up. “Bet ya’ do. I’m all answering them as long as you get rid of that cunt of a boyfriend.” 
“E… ‘cuse me?” you stammered, taking another step back. But, your anger got ahead of you; your eyebrows knitted against each other. “I can assure you that he treats me well.”
Though, the man just scoffed and stood up as your throat closed at the sight of the man. Why the fuck was he so tall? “Sure. Keep imagining that sick fantasy image of yours, and you’ll wake up in the hospital with a broken nose.”
You wanted to defend yourself. But he was right. Breaking your index finger hurts like a bitch. The frequent fights were exhausting. The last time you tried talking with Liam about visiting a close friend an hour away ended up with his hand reaching out towards your wrist, twisting it with a large sprain and a large hospital bill. 
The yelling. The self-blame. The hours of constant harassment with texts and calls. The horrible smell of booze. You really fucked up your love life, didn’t you? 
“But,” he started, a thick accent voicing in as he stepped closer into your direction. “I can treat you better, love. Someone who won’t hurt ya. Treat you like the doll you are.”
You narrow your eyes at him, nervously biting at the inside of your cheeks as you wait for him to continue. 
“I’ll make sure to treat you well. Something you haven’t been lucky to feel. Your parents were mean towards you, no?” he asked questionably, and it made your heart drop to your stomach. “But, I can take care of you; better than anyone has.” 
So many questions raced through your mind as your eyes darted at the floor then back toward the man. Like a rabbit, you stiffened. Confused. Body shaking as the predator approached. 
“I don’t… even know who you are,” you replied, tightening your hand into a fist. Your heart was speeding, hands and legs shaking with fear. Your throat stiffened. He could clearly see it — and yet somehow, his eyes got softer; those brown pupils having a sad and apologetic look. Almost like a dog trying to comfort you. 
You don’t know you’re crying until you feel a gloved thumb wipe them away, causing you to flinch. Realizing that the man was now in front of you, you tried to step back, but your ankle hit the bedroom wall, securing you in a close habitat. 
But, with everything going on, you didn’t have the energy to push him away nor look up at him. Continuing to look at the floor as your mind circled around on whom the fuck was this man? 
“Look at me, will ya’?”
You hesitated. Didn’t reply. But as he said your name, a shiver traveled down your spine, and you looked at him – his predominant features coming in. Even with your anxiety and fear swirling in your stomach, you looked at the creases in his eyebrows, the clashing scars near his temple, eyes, and brows. His jarring eyes surrounded by black eyeshadow, seemingly gentler, almost like they were trying to welcome you into a trap. 
You stare up at him with half-lidded eyes. And with a gasp, you felt his hand take your chin, his palm almost eclipsing the lower half of your face, and turn your head right into the direction he wanted you to: staring at him in the eyes.
“I promise. I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassures, though, it doesn’t help as more tears drowned down on your behalf. 
And yet, you couldn’t fathom his words. 
“I don’t–” you started, taking a deep and sharp inhale, “–trust you, I don’t even know your name. How can I know you’re… not some, serial killer?” your question was weak. And stupid. But it was the only thing you could think of out of the bluster. 
His eyes narrowed at your reply before answering at your ‘plea’. 
“I suppose that’s a start,” he huffs.
You looked at his eyes, before narrowing down at the mask. And clearly, by your eyes and non-answer, he nodded at your invisible ask. 
Stepping back, the man’s hands traveled to lift the mask upwards. He revealed the point of his chin, the skin equally rough, like his demeanor. 
He didn’t stop from continuing, exposing more of his lower lip. The skin there was rugged and scarred, little creases in the flesh. Scars that made your heart thud awkwardly. At his cupid’s bow, where you saw a huge scar, it made you gasp quietly out of wincing. The thick mark going upward on his left lip, so callused and rough. It looks like it still hurts.
Finally, he pulled the mask fully off, revealing his natural-resting face, thick eyebrows, and the two large scars right above his filled brows. It helped a bit that he revealed himself, but you were still unsure how to… understand the situation.
He said your name, and it made you look at him. “Rest your worries when you’re by me, yeah?”
Those words fell into your stomach and twisted like a towel being squeezed. Though, somehow, in a way, you felt safer. A hesitant silence settles between you both, before you decide to speak up.
“Y–ou won’t hurt me?”  
Those stunning brown eyes take a moment to gaze into yours, searching something deeper in your meaning. Instead, all you could muster was eye contact that kept flickering to the floor and trying to calm your quickened breathing.
“What kind of man would I be if I did that, hm?” his voice is airy, tone-flimsy when asking his question. 
You swallowed thickly, “I want to know your name.”
“You do know my name, sweetheart,’” he coldly corrected you, “—use that smart brain of yours.”
Seconds blurred by you, trying to think – imagine what could or would be his name. But nothing came up. Nothing came to your brain, which, the man in front of you, hummed in acknowledgment at the state of your confused state. 
“Shame you don’t remember,” he started, a smirk curling on his face. “It’s Simon.”
Memories you didn’t know at the time came forward. 
Many things are given by that name — your favorite fast food being delivered to your home after a bad day, bouquets in expensive vases being delivered every week; cards given with clothes and money. And somehow, your insurance was now covering things they didn’t. 
Oh, and let’s not forget about the lingerie being sent. A note of: I hope to see you wear this tonight. Signed with initials: SR. 
At first, you thought it was Liam – but he was a cheapskate. Never liked spending money, especially on you. 
Your eyes widened, a bubble trapping itself in your throat — it was him. Police didn’t help, saying something along the lines of, ‘until they hurt you, we can’t do anything’. But when did they ever help? 
“So… what do you want, then?” you whisper, suddenly breathless with this proximity. You can see the gold-brown of his eyes clearly, the halo of honey flecks that cover the circumference of his pupil. His eyelashes flutter when he blinks, so pretty and… oddly feminine. 
“You.”
And just as he rasped that word, the banging on your front door started. The familiar yelling of Liam drowned out your thoughts, and his screaming made the two of you snap your head in the direction of the front door. 
He yelled out your name, and you flinched. Already feeling the bruising grabs, the constant screaming where your ears ring for hours. Oh god, what the hell did you do? 
“You– need to leave,” you ushered out, hands and legs shaking for the splinting images that shot through your head. 
He was banging on the door, jamming his fists; the handle being shaken so hard that it rattled stuck. It was all too much. 
Simon said your name, but you shook your head. Denying his existence. Danger was near, nobody would help save you. He needs to leave, he needs to leave, heneedstoleave—!
He grunted your name louder, and you looked at him with teary eyes; the small rivers turning into full tsunami’s. You couldn’t think. Breathe. He was here. Going to hurt you. He was going to die. So were you.
The door broke, the familiar thundering footsteps shook from across the house. And before you could react, Simon pushed you behind him — shielding you away from your abuser.  
“You—!” Liam screamed into the bedroom, a bottle of beer in one hand and his other clenched into a fist; his blue eyes burning into your stomach. You choked out a sob as he stepped further, but stopped at the sight of Simon. For once, Liam looked retched at his own thoughts. 
“Who the fuck are you?” he yelled, and the man only narrowed his eyes at Liam; challenging him with his height and quiet demeanor. 
“Get the fuck out.” his rough and dark voice sent shivers down your neck, making every hair stand up.
Liam scoffed, a plethora of curses voiced out, before he shut up. Your eyes narrowed, and as you looked at his shocked face, you saw a gun in view next — Simon’s finger gripping the trigger, aiming it at Liam’s head. 
Your heart leapt out. Fight or flight mode flicking on.
“Come on, man– we, we’re playing. Right—?” he chuckled out, and Simon grunted. 
In the dimmed room, you can see his high cheekbones and the absolute rage that is evident on his face, even hiding behind his mask. His hands are clenched around the gun tightly, finger curling even tighter around the trigger. 
“I’m not going to ask again; leave the fucking apartment.” 
Liam falsely chuckled, “O-or what? You’ll shoot me? Doubt you have the balls, my… guy.”
Within seconds, the gun went off — making you scream, closing your eyes, and covering your ears. Your fingernails scraped at your ears, making them ring. It hurt, not a single thought. Oh god, what the fuck happened? 
“—uck!” was all you could muster before you knelt to the ground, wrapping arms around yourself; teeth clenching down your lips as you felt— tasted blood. 
After a few minutes – or seconds – you open them up and find Liam, leaning on the wall for support, bleeding through his arm. There was so much– on the floor, on his hands. His eyes were widened, looking at the man in front of you; anger yet fear rising. 
He started hiccuping — more blood dripping down to the floor as he clenched his nearly wound. 
“Don’t ever let me see you again.”
Simon’s rough voice of threatening sent shivers down your body. Your breath hitched. Your body starts to shake as your eyes widen. Simon’s threat was enough for Liam to nod instantly, giving you one look before running out; not giving you a second look as it may not leave tonight with his face intact. 
You were about to say something, but the man cleared his throat and looked down at your shaking form. “Ya’ okay?”
You looked up at him, slowly nodding. In return, he said nothing, making you feel his eyes take in every detail of you. To your face and pupils, to your shaking legs and ragged breath. Yet, having never meeting you before, he gladly handed over his hand down to you. 
Looking up at his scarred hand, you hesitantly looked at it — large fingers, nails scratched and clear hangnails. You didn’t know what to do, other than grab it and strand up with his help. 
“Get your things.”
Your eyes narrowed, breath heaving. “Why?”
 He looked at you, brown pupils dilated. They were so feminine– pretty. His breath hitched, and a large hand grasped your shoulder. 
“Cause’ you’re gona’ be coming with me, forever.” 
Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, stay well!!
© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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b00kdiary · 4 months
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for the plus size project you’re doing, i feel like cassian is such a good fit. i can totally imagine him with a thicker partner, he’s def the type to always want to be touching them, especially the squishier bits lmao. he’d be just completely obsessed with a larger body, and i feel like he’d love if they were taller too, more for him to get to touch!
Hurt Me | Cassian
Cassian x Plus Size Reader
Cassian and Y/N are late for an IC meeting not that Cassian cares, no, he has two things on his mind: your body and your pleasure.
Warnings: mature themes (18 +) swearing, body-image issues, eventual smut and Cass being utterly infatuated with his thick, beautiful lady.
MASTERLIST
“Cass, we should go-“ My protests melt into moans, breathless and dizzying as Cassian plucks one of my taut nipples into his mouth, his teeth latching on firmly and tugging. “Rhys is going to kill us for being late-“
“Don’t say another male's name when I’m sucking on your tits, Y/N,” Cassian snarls, his dark eyes lifting to meet mine and I see that feral, possessive Fae instinct in him scorching in his gaze. “The only name I wanna hear on your pretty lips is mine.”
My back arches against the bed as his large hand palms my breast, my fingers fisting around the duvet for purchase, my nipples sore and the ache between my thighs growing and growing, and Cassian smirked at the scent.
“I’m sorry, Cass,” I croon, running my hand up the corded muscle of his back, tracing the dark whorls and marks there before lacing into his hair, my fingers curling into his roots. A groan rumbles through his chest as I drag him up to me, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Let me make it up to you.”
Kissing Cassian felt like home, the smell and taste of him, the feel of his mouth, his tongue, his body, it was every single comfort I loved the most. I sigh as he slips his tongue into my mouth, so graceful as he laps against me, his hands at my waist, kneading the curves there.
“So beautiful, Angel,” Cassian moans and the sound goes straight to my wet core, and as his hands roam down my body, scratching and kneading and fondling every soft, plump inch of me, I know this is his idea of heaven.
Cassian always worshipped my body, and loved my body, even when I didn’t, he always saw the beauty in me. Always willing to kiss my stretch marks and cellulite, always loving the feel of my rolls and flesh in his hands, more than willing to hold my weight and not blanche at it.
I expose my neck to him, moaning as he kisses my neck, suckling against my nerve point, biting down on the sweet spot at the junction of my throat. A mix of pain and pleasure throbs through that spot, heightened by the hard length pressing into my thigh.
“My Cass,” I sigh, hearing the breath catch in his throat as I wrap my thighs around his hips, dragging his cock to rub against me, the friction making his eyes roll and the neediest, most helpless whimper slip from his lips. “All mine.”
“I’m yours, I’m yours, Angel,” He mumbles, his body going firm under my palm as I rock back and forth, again and again, feeling his cock become slippery with pre-cum and his face melts with the bliss of pleasure. “Yours, all yours.”
I grin at the sight of Cassian’s twitching wings, sprawled high and shaking as I continue moving against him, faster and longer, and I’ve never seen him so close to finishing just from rutting against me.
“Cauldron, Y/N,” He huffs, his voice breaking as I scratch a single nail down the inside of his wing, and his body crumbles against me as I press down harder, following the pattern of one of the veins that dance across the skin.
“Are you going to come, Cass?” I whisper, nibbling on his earlobe as he begins to shift his hips faster, my hands caressing the underside bone of his wing, a point I knew was the most sensitive. Cassian’s body shook, his fingers bruising my waist. “Is the Lord of Bloodshed going to make a mess without me even having to touch him?”
“Fuck,” He curses, low and filthy, and this time, when he rolls his hips, something sparks at the touch, and he goes still. He roars, his face burying into my neck as his orgasm hits, and I whimper at the feeling of his teeth biting against my neck, anchoring himself down as the familiar warmth of his seed hits my thigh.
I smile against his cheek, loving the sound of his ragged breathing and the harsh fall and rise of his muscular chest, brushing against my nipples and the sweat of our bodies softening us together.
“Are you feeling better now, my love?” I mutter, satisfaction running through me as I tease my fingers just over the sharp talon on the tip of his wing, seeing him jerk at the feeling. Cassian laughed, short and amused, the kind that told me how cruel and lovely he thought I was.
“I would feel better if I had made you finish too,” Cassian replies and my stomach flutters in response to the headiness in his tone, his head lifting to show me the implication and temptation in his shadowed gaze. “I’m going to have to amend that.”
“Cass, we don’t have time, Rhysand is going to murder us-“ I squeal, an abrupt, shrieking sound that fades into a laugh as Cassian grips the flesh of my hips and in one easy move, flips us over. I lurch forward to press my palm to his chest, my cheeks blushing at the way he admires me- tits bouncing, sweat coating my skin and my bare core resting on his strong stomach.
“Stop saying his fucking name, Y/N, and come sit on my face,” Cassian demands, and the General in him comes out, dark and possessive, authoritative in a way that has my body weakening, as if every nerve in me was desperate to obey, to follow his command.
“I c-can’t Cass, we’re already late and-“ I gnaw on my lip as he drags me forward, those two veined hands moving me across his body like I weighed nothing as if he barely felt me atop him. “And sitting on your face, I-I don’t want to hurt you-“
“Don’t insult me, Angel,” He snarls and as always, whenever I critique myself in any way, his face twists in anger and denial. I whimper as he runs his hands down my skin, over my thick thighs and hips, running his nails over the rolls at my stomach and back, before cupping my heavy, aching breast. “You could never hurt me, and if you did, it would be the best pain in the fucking world.”
I remain silent, my chest rising and falling hard as Cassian caresses my skin, his thumb circling my nipple, his gaze unwavering upon me, and I can’t look away.
My Cass, my mate. The love of my life.
The only male in this whole universe who could love me unconditionally, who could take all the things I despise about myself and make them seem like my most desirable qualities.
“Promise you’ll tell me if I’m hurting you?” I whisper, my voice shaking and Cassian’s face melts into a victorious, pleased grin as I slowly begin to climb up his body, his hand guiding me toward the headboard. “I mean it Cass; I don’t think people will be happy if I suffocate the General of the Night Court to death.”
“What a glorious way to go, I’d happily die between your pretty thighs, feasting on this perfect cunt,” Cassian praises, nipping at the flesh of my thigh as I hover above him, and the way he glances up at my wet folds makes me clench. “But I promise to stop you since it matters so much.”
“Thank you,” I sigh and when my eyes meet his I see the care and adoration and love dancing through the hazel orbs, and I don’t resist when he guides my core forward. My head lulls at the first flick of his tongue tracing through my folds, and he groans at the taste of me. “Cassian, Cauldron-“
My fingers tighten around the headboard, the wood creaking under the strength of my hold as Cassian’s tongue whirls around my clit, alternating between slow and fast, his pressure shifting from hard to soft and teasing in a way that has my legs shaking.
“I said sit, Y/N, not hover,” Cassian grumbles irately, the feeling reverberating through my core and my body is more than willing when he yanks me down by my thighs, dropping me onto his face so that I’m smothering him, and his satisfied moan tells me that’s exactly what he wanted.
Cassian tastes me like a starved man, his tongue lapping against my swollen clit in long languid strokes, drawing so many waves of scorching pleasure from me, the kind that had me pinching my eyes shut and tossing my head back to release my sounds into the air.
“Cassian, please, please,” My hand fell down my body, curling into his dark hair, my fingers finding purchase in his roots, and as I tug, Cassian growled, his teeth scraping against my clit in the most deliciously painful way.
The sound that tears from me is so loud, echoing through the empty room and house, bouncing off the walls and likely alerting any passing person to what was happening. But I didn’t care, couldn’t care as I rocked my hips back and forth, grinding against his tongue.
My toes curl when he prods his tongue lower, easily shifting me so that his nose hits against my sensitive bud and his tongue slips into my entrance, fucking in and out of me in a way that has my entire body trembling, had any worry or control slipping away.
Cassian’s sounds are muffled by the wet sounds of him sucking and tasting and fucking his tongue inside me fervently and as his hands palm my ass, moving me back and forth, back, and forth, again and again, it’s more than I can take.
“Cass, there, right there-“ I cry out, his hands, his tongue, every brush of his nose, all at once- it ruins me.
My back arches and my body goes taut as black dots fill my vision, an eruption of flames and sparks charging through my core. My stomach clenches and unclenches repeatedly as my orgasm lasts and lasts, never-ending as Cassian laps against me, not stopping or slowing down.
“Cassian, it’s too much, it’s-“ He pressed his nose against my clit and my thighs clamped around his head tighter, a strangled gasp escaping me as he finally, finally, let go. I slump forward, my head spinning and the second his hold releases from my thighs, I lurch forward, the sound of his lips plucking back from my core so lewd.
“Now, I feel better,” Cassian muses and I giggle as I settle back to sit on his chest, legs burning and weak as I stare down at him, my heart thundering in my chest. He looked as handsome as ever, hair tousled from my fingers, eyes bright with relief, and my wetness coating his mouth and nose. “Do you?”
“You know I do,” I smile, my thumb brushing the stubble at his jaw and his fingers drawing circles at my back. “I love you, Cassian.”
“I love you too, Y/N, always,” Cassian smiles, his face serene, his eyes softening as all the shadows and hurt of his pasts dissolve into oblivion like they always did when we were together.
“How sweet,” Rhysand’s voice drawls sarcastically through our minds, and I jump at the sound, Cassian snorting at the impatience and ire radiating from our High Lord. “What I would love is for the two of you to come join the fucking meeting that started one hour ago.”
-----
@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered
630 notes · View notes
talesof-old · 2 months
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spare me | e.v. & a.s.
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pairing(s): poly!azris x fem!reader
warning(s): slightly suggestive if you squint, mentions of beron vanserra, implied torture/injuries, fear of abandonment, fear of loved ones being hurt, saying i love you a little too early maybe, nonsexual nudity
word count: 1k
a/n: this is more angst than fluff but it ends on a happier note lmao
masterlist
poly!azris + angst & fluff for my little celebration
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Being immortal was never easy.
With centuries spread out before you like the gaping mouth of some terrible beast, it threatened to consume every one of your relationships. Each would, most likely, be as fleeting as a mortal’s life. Fragile, finite.
Perhaps it was better to end things before they got too hard. It allowed for allies where there would be enemies.
But as you gazed into the amber eyes of your lover, your very soul ached at the notion. His eyes were lit with something wild, feral in the way only a cornered wild animal could be. Sorrow lined your face as you reached for him.
Beside you, Azriel lounged across the bed, his relaxed body betrayed only by the tense expression he wore. His wings were limp on the sheets: open, vulnerable.
You shouldn’t have said it. As soon as the words left your mouth you’d wished you could take them back. I love you had been easy. The frantic patter of your heart and the pain in your chest was not. Naked and satiated, tracing circles over Eris’ scars, you’d spoken your feelings.
Azriel rested a hand on the dimple of your back, supportive in his silence. You knew he’d felt the same, but perhaps he wasn’t so much of a fool to voice it.
“You can’t-“ Eris’ words brought you back to the present. He scrambled out of bed, hands trembling as he dressed. You pushed yourself up, thighs protesting, and watched as he tried to pull himself together. You gnawed on the inside of your cheek, muscles tight with tension.
“You can’t. You don’t.”
A sharp wave of anger shot through your blood. Who was he to dictate how you felt? Even if he did not feel the same.
“Don’t say that. Don’t tell me how to feel.” A humorless laugh echoed through the all too quiet room. The hair on your arms stood up, and Azriel finally allowed himself to move up from the bed.
“You don’t love me, you’re simply interested in the pleasure I bring you.” Your gut churned. Frustrated tears built up in your eyes but you will them away, voice sharp as you respond.
“You are more than a puppet to be used, Eris.”
He inhaled sharply.
The pause was all you needed, slowly removing yourself from the bed without sparing a sideways glance at your other lover. His shadows were curling around your limbs as if to keep you safe, but there was nothing to protect you from.
Eris stood still, barely breathing, as you approached. A wall of heat seemed to guard the air around him. You didn’t care. You reached for him, cool fingers making contact with burning skin, and simply stayed there. He would not push you away out of fear. And his was so palpable, the taste bitter on your tongue.
“If you don’t want this, tell me how to un-love you. Spare me the torment of wanting you but not having you.” You shook your head. “I would fight for the rest of my life for you, Beron Vanserra be damned.” His eyes fluttered shut as your hands skimmed over his chest, rising to cradle his jaw in your hands. Tension fell from him in waves.
“I can’t lose either of you.”
You sighed, stepping closer even still. Shadows slithered from your wrists to caress his pale skin. He kept his hands at his side, fists clenched as if to keep from touching you.
“My love,” you whispered. “Look at me.”
Moments ticked by. Azriel’s shadows were wound with tension, skirting over your figures in place of your partner’s hands.
Eris opened his eyes, red rimmed and glassy. You stroked the hard planes of his cheeks with your thumbs. The faintest freckles dusted the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, and you ached to still be lying in bed and tracing shapes between them.
“I’m not afraid of saying I love you, Eris Vanserra. Every fiber of my being longs for you. I don’t care if Beron himself hears me now.” He tensed all over again, even as you attempted to coax him out from behind his mountain high walls.
“You are worth it. To me, you’re worth everything.” A few stray tears fell from his eyes, though he didn’t make a sound. In a rush, you were wrapped in his embrace, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
“I’ll only cause you pain, suffering even.”
You huffed a laugh, tangling a hand in his hair.
“That’s my choice, love. Besides, it’s not you that’s causing me pain.”
He drew away, only to be swept up in the thick arms of your shadowsinger. They were much less affectionate with one another, but even Azriel understood that physical touch grounded Eris more than words ever really did. Eris, while taller, curled into the embrace.
“You’re stuck with us, fox.” Azriel’s low voice had you quirking up a brow.
“Come back to bed.” Unable to argue, Eris allowed the two of you to undress him, guiding him back to the silk sheets you’d begged them to purchase.
You curled up into his left side, pressing soft kisses to his shoulder.
“You’re worth more than you think, you have to know that.”
Eris’ fingers laced through yours, squeezing your hand gently. Azriel pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“We’ll be free one day, fox. I promise.” You glanced up, watching their exchange with soft eyes. Eris slotted his mouth against Azriel’s, sighing as he deepened the kiss. You rested your head on the redhead’s shoulder. A dark wing rose to cover your bodies, twitching as you lightly scraped the membrane with your nail.
Azriel huffed, pulling away from Eris and glancing down at you with a teasing gleam in his hazel eyes. “Needy.” You closed your eyes, nuzzling into the warmth of your partner. Even if this was destined to end sooner rather than later, at least there had been moments of love, of tenderness.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
350 notes · View notes
wheeboo · 4 days
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mine | joshua hong
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SYNOPSIS. in which joshua is the best thing that's ever been... yours. PAIRING. joshua hong x gn!reader (ft. cheol, jeonghan, soonyoung, mingyu, chan - they don't rlly have dialogue tho lol) GENRE. fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. a very very brief shirtless joshua moment LMAO, implications of reader having a toxic ex, mentions that reader's parents have a rocky relationship and separate, kissing, terms of endearment, reader and joshua have a lil argument WORD COUNT. 3.6k
requested from @staranghae: joshua + mine by taylor swift for the 2k followers event please 🩷🎀
notes: i am fluent in this song!!!! whenever my love playlist comes on and this plays i literally scream lungs out!!! and shua fits this vibe so much <3
join the 2k celebration!
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ONE. "i was a flight risk, with a fear of falling / wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts..."
Maybe you've always underestimated how the feeling of fresh air hitting your lungs makes you feel so replenished, free, like a single whiff blows away those gusts of worry in an instant.
Your fingers carry a tight, secure grip on Seungcheol's surfboard𑁋you volunteered to carry it for him so he could unload the other things from the van𑁋soft sand meeting your toes the second you step onto the beach for the first time of the summer season. Salty air tingles at your nose, the late afternoon sun baring down on your shoulders, and the expanse of the ocean opens up right before your eyes.
This place had basically watched you grow up. It carries a lot of memories that you hold dear to your heart.
You see Soonyoung already digging into the sand with an abnormally large stick, and Mingyu carrying a bunch of firewood in his arms before dropping them down onto the ground (and accidentally one on his foot, but you won't say anything about that).
However, your eyes drift and land on a figure running up from the beach shore. His dark hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, chest and arms revealed in all its glory before quickly covered up by a white, somewhat lacy button-down shirt that still doesn't do much in concealing the muscles underneath. For a moment, you nearly loose the grip on Seungcheol's surfboard.
Joshua Hong seems to spot you from even a mile away. He's running up to you before you even have the minute to breathe, a grin splitting his face that's as warm as the setting sun. Sand clings to his damp flip-flops and the hem of his black shorts as he nearly skids to a halt in front of you, chest heaving and out of breath. His shirt isn't even buttoned, dammit.
"Hey," he greets you breathlessly, letting his eyes take you in for a second. "Glad you could make it."
A soft smile of your own blooms on your face. "It's good to see you too, asshole."
A flicker of feigned hurt plays across Joshua's features. "Come on. That was so two years ago! I didn't want to push you in the water. You should know that by now."
"Wow, you care so much about me, don't you?" You nearly swing Seungcheol's surfboard playfully in his direction. "You listen to Jeonghan more than your own little brain."
"I swear, it's changed. Everything's changed since then," Joshua reasons lightly. "You have my ears for the entire night, I promise."
His words hang in the air for a moment, and there's perhaps a sliver of fondness in his eyes that you catch when your gazes meet. You feel a certain warmth spread through your chest that you try so hard to ignore each time he's around you.
You brush it off with a roll of your eyes before strolling past him, hoping that Seungcheol's surfboard was enough to cover up the slight flush creeping up your cheeks. The smile to your face still lingers as you walk towards to where Soonyoung and Mingyu are, whom dash up to you the moment they see you to engulf you in a welcoming hug.
Mingyu is almost done setting up the bonfire by the time you and Seungcheol bring all the food and supplies from the van. Jeonghan and Chan had arrived by the time the fire is lit up and crackling, casting a warm, inviting glow on the beach scene. And it isn't long when the yearly traditions of a group bonfire and beachside barbecue commence.
The smell of grilled food fills the air, mixing with the salty breeze and the crackle of the fire. And just for those moments, you forget these fuzzy feelings swirling around you as familiar laughter and camaraderie take over instead.
You've known all of your friends for different amounts of times, but being here with all of them makes it feel like time hasn't passed by at all. Inside jokes are exchanged, memories from as far as childhood resurface, and stories are told that leave you all doubled over with laughter (and Soonyoung nearly choking on a marshmallow).
It's almost natural in the way your eyes seem to search for Joshua's every single time that feeling of happiness threatens to overflow within you. The fire flickers upon his face, his eyes crinkled deeply when he smiles. Happiness looks good on him, you think. It always has.
...does his eyes search for yours too?
By the time the fire dies down, you find yourself sitting near the edge of the beach, with your legs stretched on the sand and the waves barely lapping against your feet. Seungcheol and Mingyu are already out on the ocean on their surfboards, then there's Chan and Soonyoung struggling to get their sandcastle to stay up, and Jeonghan is already knocked out on a beach towel. It's just you, and wherever the hell Joshua is.
"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"
The voice snaps you away from your thoughts, and you pick your head up to see Joshua walking up to you. A cool breeze flows through his strands of his hair as he approaches.
You blink at him. "What?"
He sits down beside you on the sand, close enough that the warmth of his body brushes against yours. "You were too quiet earlier."
You face back towards the water, cowering your head down as if guilty of some sorts.
"Oh," You murmur, somewhat to yourself. "Sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Joshua asks, nudging you lightly on the shoulder. "I told you earlier that I would be all ears for you."
You smile faintly at that. Would you still be all ears if I told you that I've been such a coward with my feelings for you?
"It's... just boy problems, I guess," You respond, though you feel a twinge of regret for wording it like that. It's more than just simply boy problems.
Joshua's jaw seems to tighten at that. "Did that jerk contact you again?"
You know who exactly he's talking about, and you let out a sigh. "No, not him. I... I blocked him a few months ago when he tried spam calling me again. Sort of gave me a good scare, to be honest."
At the corner of your eye, Joshua's hand digs aimlessly into the sand, clenching and unclenching a fistful before smoothing it out again.
"I'm glad you're okay," he says softly, gaze fixed on the grains of sand slipping through his fingers. "You deserve someone way better than him."
You chuckle at that, and a bittersweet pang shoots through your chest. It's true, you deserve better. But really, the problem isn't just jerks and bad relationships. It's the thought of falling for someone again and it all comes crashing down... again.
But it's not like you could hold back from falling when you've already fallen. The truth is undeniable at this point𑁋your heart already beats a little faster for the boy right next to you.
"Guys! Look at the sunset!" Chan's voice rings out into the cool, evening air, pointing an excited finger towards the horizon.
Simultaneously, you and Joshua bring your eyes up tot the sky together. The last rays of the sun are painting the sky in a breathtaking display of fiery oranges, pinks, and purples, like a fleeting masterpiece before nightfall takes hold.
"Wow," You mutter out in awe. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Joshua cocks his head to the side, a low hum leaving his lips. "Hmm, I could think of something more beautiful than that, honestly."
You scoff, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "You ruined the sentimental moment, idiot."
Joshua lets out an amused laugh, a sound that sends those flutters blossoming in your stomach, one you haven't realised you've missed until this very moment. A small giggle of your own escapes your mouth as you bring your eyes back to the sunset together.
Then a low yawn stifles out of you. Maybe everything that has happened the past few hours are finally catching up to you. You let out another yawn, hoping Joshua doesn't notice. But of course, he does.
"Getting tired?" he asks you.
You give a small nod. "Just a little."
A few moment pass, before you feel an arm drape casually over your shoulders. The scent of Joshua and his warmth seeps within your bones. You almost want to protest, but the words get caught in your throat, and you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
Perhaps you could spend a long time staying in this position and hope the silence is able to spill all the words you've been meaning to say for all this time, but you know it's easier said than done. Because what's the point of confessing anymore if you know it won't ever last? That you know it'll ruin everything you've built up to get this far?
You've seen it happen around you𑁋with you, your parents, hell even strangers online. It's taught you nothing but to run. That's what your mind tells you to do, but not your heart. And maybe you listen to your mind more often than not.
"Yo, Josh!" Mingyu's voice hollers out from the ocean, and you feel a certain pressure be lifted up from your head (when did he lay his head on yours?) as you catch the sight of Seungcheol and Mingyu motioning to their surfboards. "Wanna hop on?"
Joshua briefly glances down at you, and you meet his gaze, seeing the indecision in his features.
"I don't mind," You tell him. "I'll be fine here."
He hesitates. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, don't worry about me." You pick your head off from his shoulders. "Go have your boy-fun."
Joshua gives you a small smile, though there's a hint of reluctance in his expression. He shouts back to Mingyu and Seungcheol before standing up and brushing the sand off his shorts. You could hardly pull your eyes away from him as he does so.
He starts trotting away as you face back toward the ocean with a sigh, relinquishing the moments you get to have to gather up your thoughts.
"Hey, Y/N?"
You pick your eyes back up to Joshua marching back towards you. He stops in front of you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
"You look beautiful today, by the way." Then he gives shoots you a wink before turning back around. "Just wanted you to know."
The kiss you leave to his cheek later on was really worth the risk.
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TWO. "you learn my secrets and you figure out why i'm guarded / you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes..."
A picture frame of a four-year-old Joshua is staring back at you. He still has that same silly grin on his face, the one that has his own eyes smiling as well and makes your heart feel lighter every time you look at it. You reach out to touch the frame, tracing the outline of his little face with your fingertip.
Sometimes, you wish you could experience what he was like at this time𑁋to grow up with him, to know what exactly led him to meeting you. But then again, he's already here with you now, and maybe that's all that matters.
"All ready for bed?" Joshua's voice popping in makes you swiftly place back the picture frame back on his desk. You turn around to see him leaning against the doorway with a soft smile playing on his lips, clad with a simple white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.
"Mhm," You hum out in response as you settle back under the covers of his bed.
It isn't the first night you've spent with him at his place, but you seem to seek the feeling of his comfort more often than sleeping in your own bed. Jeonghan has been kind of nagging you the two of you to move in together at this point, but that's a leap you're a bit hesitant to jump right now. But the drawer of your own clothes in his wardrobe is a bit of an argument that's hard to defend.
Joshua crawls his way into the spot right next to you, slipping under the duvet and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you more into his embrace. You feel his breath meet the nape of your neck, warm and soothing against your skin, and your eyes flutter to the feeling.
You shift your position so that you're facing him. His eyes are already closed, lips pursed up slightly, and even then he still looks absolutely stunning. But you know he isn't asleep. Not yet, at least.
"My parents had uh... another argument today," You confess lowly, hesitantly.
Joshua's eyes open up slightly, adjusting his head so he can look at you better. A faint crease of concern appears between his brows, the arm around you tightening imperceptibly.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
You bite at your bottom lip anxiously. There are times you feel as if the only thing that could get you talking is always something revolving your parents, and you wonder if Joshua ever gets tired hearing about all of it. The thought courses insecurity to crawl in your veins, tightening your throat.
But Joshua's patient gaze towards you cuts through the uncertainty bubbling in your chest.
"Just same old, same old, you know?" You attempt to explain. "It just feels like they can't see eye-to-eye anymore. There's like... I don't know... nothing left between them, I guess. And it scares me that... it'll happen to us."
The last sentence suspends thickly into the air. Even then, you know it's more than the truth𑁋you've grown up witnessing and overhearing arguments from your parents that laid down this pessimistic view on the world around you.
You could feel your heart racing from all the anticipation. There's a wave of emotions that washes over Joshua's face, then he takes a deep breath and squeezes you tighter in his hold.
"Hey," he mutters. "Look at me."
You hesitantly meet his eyes.
"We're not like them, okay?" he assures you simply, bringing his hand up to cup your face oh-so gently in his hold. "We may argue sometimes. But the difference is, we communicate. We listen to each other. And we may not have all the answers to everything, but we'll figure it out together, alright?"
You swear you can feel the way he's holding your face also on your heart, like he's protecting you in a way from any doubts that might creep in. A small sigh escapes you, the tension leaving your shoulders as his words wrap around you comfortingly. The faintest, appreciative curve appears to your lips as you feel Joshua's thumb brush against your cheek.
He dreamily smiles at you as well, despite his face being half-buried in the pillow. And the thought of being able to wake up to this sight every single day suddenly feels a lot less like a leap and a whole lot more like a promise.
Somehow, the gap between the two of you disappears as your lips meets his. He kisses you so tenderly, mouth moving against yours with a delicate urgency, and the tiny sound that leaves you brings that smirk you could feel forming on his face.
You feel almost dizzy when you pull away, nothing but a shy look gracing over your features.
"Feeling better?" Joshua asks softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.
You could only gaze at him, wondering to yourself how he's even in real, how someone like him could exist with his sleepy smile, messy hair, and perfect features carved by the angels above, yet cherish you so dearly.
"Can you..." Your eyes flicker from eyes to his lips. "Can you... keep kissing me?"
It feels really silly to ask that, however Joshua just chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest as he peers at you with nothing but adoration.
"Of course," he replies, leaning back in. "Whatever you want."
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THREE. "braced myself for the goodbye, 'cause that's all I've ever known / then you took me by surprise / you said, 'I'll never leave you alone...'"
The tears streaming down your face burns through the concrete below like acid.
"Y/N, wait𑁋"
"I told you that I-I can't do this right now."
The leaves crunching at your feet echo in your ears as you walk away from Joshua, each step feeling heavier than the last. It's around two in the morning or something, and you can't remember the last time you felt this lost and broken ever since your parents' separation. It's like the ground beneath you has crumbled away, leaving you suspended in midair, grasping for something𑁋just anything𑁋to hold onto.
You've been here before, standing at the edge of this cliff of vulnerability. It's easier to leave before you get left, easier to build walls than to let someone in only to watch them walk away.
But you've come to understand that Joshua isn't one to give up easily. He catches up to you quickly, his hand gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks. You try to shrug him off, but his grip only tightens slightly as he turns you around to face him.
"Talk to me," he pleads insistently, and the subtle tremble to his voice has your chest clenching. "If you're just going to keep pushing me away, then𑁋"
"Then leave." The words leave you before you can stop them, fueled by the ache in your chest and the fear in your heart. "You don't have to stay with me when all I-I do is push you away. Don't you think you deserve someone better?"
Joshua's grip on your arm loosens at your words, but it doesn't fall. His eyes scan over your tear-stained face, the quiver to your lips, and all of it has you bracing yourself for the inevitable, final blow𑁋for him to turn and walk away like so many others before him.
But instead, he just steps closer to you.
"This isn't about me staying because I have to, Y/N," he explains. "It's about me wanting to stay because I love you. I knew what I was getting into the second I realised I was falling for you. So no, I'm not going to leave you. And I'll never leave you alone because I know you're worth fighting for."
Your breath catches in your throat, his words piercing through you like a bullet straight through the heart. Even Joshua appears out of breath himself, as if he's poured his own heart out to you in those few simple sentences. The silence stretches between the two of you.
With a quiet sigh and a faint smile, he lets the tension simmer down by trailing his eyes over you.
"When I look at you, I think... I think I fall in love with you all over again like the first time I saw you," Joshua admits shyly, followed by a sheepish chuckle to himself. "It's cheesy, I know. But I can't help it. It's hard not to look at you."
You feel the heat crawling up your face as you blink away your tears clumsily, peering up at him inquisitively. "Really?"
This just draws another laugh from him. Joshua steps closer to you, trailing a hand to cup your face and the other to slide to your back to shorten the gap between the two of you even more. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulls back slightly to meet your gaze.
"Really," he confirms, voice gentle yet firm. "I meant every word I said, darling."
This brings a genuine smile to your face as if it was the first one that night. You instinctively lean more into Joshua's touch, letting your eyes close for a moment to the simple feeling of him holding you.
"I'm sorry," You mumble, voice barely above a whisper. "for pushing you away like that. It's just... I'm scared."
Joshua takes one of your hands into his own to bring up to his lips, pressing a reassuring kiss to your knuckles.
"It's okay," he assures you. "We can be scared together."
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FOUR. "do you believe it? / we're gonna make it now / and i can see it / i can see it now."
A pair of arms snake around your waist from behind, the relaxing melody of a piano floating through the air of the kitchen. You take in a deep breath, leaning back into Joshua's embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
"Smells amazing, honey," Joshua murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
You smile contentedly, feeling the peace of the moment wash over the two of you. The enticing smells of the pasta you were cooking waft around the kitchen, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs, garlic, and Joshua's presence right behind you.
"It should be ready soon," You say, clutching the wooden spoon in your hands to give the sauce a final stir.
Joshua's eyes arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer as he sways gently to the music. You hear the sounds of his hums hit your ears as you turn to the heat off to the stove. And as you attempt to pull away from him to grab for some plates, Joshua's grip on your waist hardly budges.
You groan exaggeratedly. "Shua, I need to𑁋"
"Marry me."
You freeze immediately, and you swear time halted right at that moment. Turning around in his hold, you're met with the sight of Joshua's eyes on you. You try to pinpoint any doubt in them, any sign that this is some sort of joke, but his gaze remains unwavering, dark eyes serious yet painted with a shine of hope that tugs right at the strings of your heart and the walls of your hesitation.
There's always that fear gnawing at in the back of your mind. But beneath it all, a warmth spreads through your chest, a certainty that feels as natural as breathing.
And perhaps, you see nothing but forever in him.
You can see it in the way his eyes soften, in the way his hand trembles anxiously against your waist, in the way his lips part ever so slightly as he waits for your response. You can see it all in him. You've made it.
You kiss him just seconds later. It's a question your heart has already answered long before the words left Joshua's lips. You lean more into his touch, feeling your heart overflow past the brink of joy, and the feelings all melt together into the singular realisation that he's the best thing that's ever been yours.
When the two of you finally break away, a single word escapes your lips, "Yes."
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another note: sorry this ending was slightly rushed T-T
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339 notes · View notes
luvtak · 7 months
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jealousy, jealousy, skz
✧ pairing 0t8 x gn!reader
✧ genre/tw fluff!!! disgusting beautiful fluff, the tiniest smidgeon of angst… jealousy (obvs), just boys being cute and whiny lol
✧ w/c 2262 (around 250 each)
✧ a/n literally stayed up all night writing this lmao, hope you like it <333
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Chan: So jealous immediately. I think he feels a lot of ownership over the people he loves, not in a weird toxic way, more like ‘these are my people and I'm going to love and protect them’ way, so when anybody looks or speaks to you in flirty ways, he gets uncomfortable really fast. Tries so hard not to make it noticeable or jeopardize your good mood, but is actually so upset about the situation it’s hard to hide. His body language changes right away, all of his easy posture and quick laughs disappear and all that’s left is little smiles and taut muscles. It has less to do with someone thinking his s/o is pretty and more to do with not knowing if the person is dangerous or not, and worrying for your physical and emotional safety–last thing he wants is for you to be hurt in any way, and having someone blatantly look at you reminds him that truly anything can happen :( I don’t think he could be jealous of the Kids at all, they’re literally his children like what are they gonna do? Thinks it's so cute when they hug you or ask for help with something, and wants more than anything for you to get along, so he’s only happy when you do. Only tells you he was jealous when you’re alone laying in bed at night, talking about anything and everything and admitting to be upset about the whole experience. Genuinely so confused when you tell him you know, and never learns that he is so obvious with his emotions–whether positive or negative.
Minho: Honestly, I don’t think he really does get jealous… He seems so secure to me that I feel like it wouldn’t even cross his mind to get upset, actually likes it a little–you’re beautiful and you’re his and he’s proud of that. Except for if it’s one of the other boys, then suddenly very annoyed and possessive haha. Not that he thinks any of them would actually do anything with you, but I think it just hits closer to home–like they could. He is a little mean about it at first, but it quickly becomes sulking, like a child not getting enough attention. His hold on your thigh gets tighter and his fingers wound with yours start pressing in more so it hurts a little, I can see him spacing out a little too–inwardly thinking about all the reasons the person thinks what they’re doing is alright. Most of the time, the boys aren’t doing anything, but something specific they do or say triggers the jealousy and won’t go away. He’s a boy who won’t come clean right away (even though you know exactly what’s happening), instead he waits till you go to bed to press himself on top of you and whine about how rude it was that they were flirting with you (they were not). Needs endless validation and physical reminders of your love for him before he goes back to being himself. Always acts like it didn’t happen in the morning and will laugh at you for thinking it was possible he could have felt that way, while having admitted to it 9 hours before. 
Changbin: Very, very cute about his jealousy. Would never mention that it bothers him, wouldn’t point out someone’s stares or ask you to change anything about yourself to garner less attention. Is so proud of his little baby being so pretty they get noticed, but that doesn’t take away the fact that people shouldn’t come up to you. His jealousy would be so specific, he wouldn’t really care if it was just stares or people checking you out, but as soon as someone tries to make a move he is seething. Stares them up and down and looks so intimidating that even you are a little shocked, keeps this attitude until you leave and then needs to be coddled and loved until he will be back to normal. Loves how close to the boys you are but hates how that means he has to share you, he loves being the only one to know special things about you and gets grumpy so quick when he realizes other people know things too. Becomes so, so, so clingy when he’s jealous–hands never leaving your skin, not even for a second. His a million kisses a day becomes two million and he will be stitched to your side. Needs at least a two week recovery period where he is babied and taken care of before he can get over the silly feelings and remember how in love you are. Will not admit to it ever, it could be years in the future and he’d still say you didn’t know what you were talking about. Tries to act so tough, but is really just the sweetest boy to ever exist. 
Hyunjin: Gets jealous over silly things and will make it your problem; most of the times it's just a joke, something to get you to fawn all over him and kiss him a dozen times. But because of this, it’s hard to tell when he really is jealous, characterized by melodrama and many questions asking if you’ve ever thought about not being with him come out after someone shoots their shot with you and fails. He is such a romantic that his s/o not being as fully in as he is would be something that would really worry him. Most of the time he can see how in love you are and recognize how strong your relationship is, but as soon as there is someone getting in the way of that it would be hard for him to ignore. I can’t see him getting too jealous over the boys, but would improvise drama level monologues of jealousy if he sees you sitting a little close to one of them on the sofa. One of the only boys where I think he would try to make it up to you, while the others may need comfort from their s/o, I think Hyunjin would feel guilty for second-guessing your relationship even if it was a completely normal emotion he felt toward it. Gives slow kisses and soft sorry’s for hours before he can listen to you tell him why you’re not mad. Loves so hard and so well that jealousy is such a malignant feeling to him, that he would try to separate himself and your relationship from it as soon as he could. 
Han: Truly his worst nightmare. He would be such a cozy, sweet, domestic partner that it would probably be pretty rare to go out somewhere instead of staying in, and his mood would be demolished so fast if someone was looking at you or hitting on you in any way. Overthinking and anxiety flow as soon as he notices, and really needs to work his way up to confronting the situation. I believe he would succumb to his thoughts a little and need a lot of comfort from you to feel better about it. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, or think anything could ever happen, but it’s such a reminder of the uncertainty that life brings that it makes him sad. Another one who wouldn’t really get jealous around the boys, but there are specific situations that would bring him down a little–like say you shared a snack with Hyunjin or watched his favorite movie with Seungmin, he is about to become a murderer. Just couldn’t take you doing any casually domestic activity with anyone else that it would annoy him to see it happen. Will be in desperate need of kisses and cuddles to make him feel better, but if he is jealous enough he may pretend like he doesn’t want any just so you could insist and unconsciously give him that validation that he needs. Demands at least two days of pure movie time with you to feel fully back to normal, and will in fact throw a fit if those needs are not met. He is just a sweet, pouty baby normally so it’s not surprising that under the right conditions these traits get magnified tenfold, but it’s okay because he’s so cute. 
Felix: About to cry fr. I feel like he doesn’t like feeling any negative emotions associated with you, so when he does it hurts him beyond belief. Trusts you with his life, but as soon as he hears someone hitting on you he gets so sad. Hates that other people can talk to you lol, would rather the only people you speak to be your friends, his friends and your loved ones. He’s not possessive at all, but I do think he genuinely worries about people speaking to you and hurting your feelings or making you uncomfortable, so with the jealousy he is also just so concerned about the person's intentions. Sometimes I think he’d get really mad too, he is such a lovey person that there is no world in which everyone in the area doesn’t know he’s your boyfriend, so when anyone comes up to you he would also be confused at why they thought that was okay. Somehow gets even closer to you; fully wrapped around your bones like a secondskin, walking everywhere with you like you’re doing a three-legged race, a million kisses pressed everywhere his eyes can see. I don’t think he would get jealous about one of the boys being too close to you, he loves you all so much and trusts everyone that it wouldn’t even cross his mind to be jealous about it unless he was making a joke. He is definitely the fastest of all the boys to admit to it, he is so emotionally intelligent and kind that he’d let you know as soon as he felt it was a good time. In conclusion, he is a precious angel and we all know it. 
Seungmin: Genuinely the most annoying little gremlin. Turns it on you immediately as if somehow you asked the person to keep sneaking peeks at you. Literally starts making fun of you, mockingly saying ‘wow you’re sooo pretty’ to cover up how upset he actually is about it. I feel like he gets confused when other people find you attractive, not because you’re not, but because you’re his and he just doesn’t think anyone should be looking at you for too long. Will not listen to you that maybe if he actually acted like your boyfriend in public people wouldn’t hit on you haha, he doesn’t see how never touching you and constantly teasing you doesn’t read boyfriend. If it’s one of the boys he’s jealous of and not just some rando, god save them; the meanest glares and most biting jokes he can come up with. Fronts so much in public, but as soon as you’re behind doors he is all over you–kisses all over and a dozen reminders about how much he loves you. Laughs in your face when you ask him if he was jealous, ‘do you want me to be?’ with the biggest side eye. Although I do think he is secretly a huge sap when it comes to his s/o, and will not accept you thinking he doesn’t care even if pretends he doesn’t, so apologizes really quickly if he sees you getting hurt by the nonchalance. Even though he won’t admit to it for at least a week, (everyone knows he was upset about it), he’s taking that to his grave–at least until you look at him for a little too long and he gets freaked out and cops to it lmao. 
Jeongin: The fussiest little baby. Like seriously, pouting/stomping feet/crocodile tears fussy baby. See’s someone looking at you at a coffee shop and immediately begins overthinking: ‘do they like them?’ ‘Is that person cuter than me?’ ‘They know we’re a couple right? Right?!’ This all happens in a series of five minutes. Now, he isn’t the most touchy in public–mostly just a hand on your back or fingers intertwined in your pocket, but it should be obvious enough that you’re there together. Immediately stares at the person, all while pretending he isn’t upset, but you can tell right away. For one, the hand on your back suddenly wraps around your tummy to press your back against his front and his head leans down to curl into your neck. Secondly, and most importantly he starts whining about how pretty you are. Not in a cutesy way, like he’s genuinely frustrated that you’re good looking, so pretty that other people notice it too. His bottom lip is jutted out and his eyes are so wide, and you just know. You won’t say anything until you get home for fear of embarrassing him, but he’s noticeably more touchy throughout the day; holding you to him around the boys and glaring at any stranger who looks at you too long. Gets jealous even faster if it's about one of the Kids, has no idea why Chan would be talking to you that long and tries to will him away with his mind–is so embarrassed when you tell him what you were really talking about lol because it was definitely him. When you finally ask him about it later he’ll laugh and act like you’re crazy, as if he hadn’t been acting like a lunatic all day, until apologizing and yelling at you for being too beautiful. All in all very cute and pouty and very charming <3 
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© luvtak
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k-hotchoisan · 7 months
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Hi loving you and your writing 💗but right now I am craving for a wooyoung fic based on chase Atlantic "slow down" love u 😘
Coming right up Angel 🩷 and thank you for compliments and the request! I’ve been so bias wrecked by him I wished it’s funny 🫠
Hope you didn’t mind that I sort of cut off the drug usage present in the song because I’m not comfortable with it (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)
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Slow down? Yeah fucking right.
Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, backshots, unprotected sex, !mentioned alcohol use (drink responsibly please), cream pies, slight manhandling(?), light bondage, established relationship, slow to fast (LMAO)
Word count: 2K
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When Wooyoung’s a little more tipsy than usual, he dances between the scale of going slow or about to rearrange your fucking guts, and it’s a fucking surprise every single time it happens. Not that you were complaining of course. No matter what he does, it just drives you up the wall, just constantly begging for more.
He’s had a few drinks tonight, destressing himself for the weekend after a long week of work. You walk over to him, and take the glass from him, pouting. “You shouldn’t drink so much, Woo”, you scold. Wooyoung doesn’t get mad—why would he get mad if it was you? He smiles at you as his arms snake around your waist as he leans into you, spoiling you with kisses on your clothed waist. You settle the cup on the table, away from his reach. His flushed cheeks already an indication that he’s already getting pretty tipsy. He breathes in his body wash that you use when you stay over, and he loves how it smells on you.
“Hi darling”, he hums as his hands trail past under the dress shirt you’re wearing, tickling your thighs, playing against the band of your panties, tempted to just pull it down, his eye contact never breaking with yours. It sends electricity up your spine. “Could I have you instead?” He asks.
You’re wondering if you should tease him a little and deny him of that request just for the sake of your amusement. Your fingers caress his chin and Wooyoung feels himself shiver in anticipation even though you know he’s going to be the one flipping the tables.
You push his hands off you, which takes Wooyoung back by surprise, and cease any form of physical contact with him, before pushing him back against the sofa, then taking the glass of alcohol to the sink. Wooyoung is left confused and half hard on the couch.
You know he’ll come crawling soon enough, because that’s how you’d always lure him in anyway, especially when he’s in such a state. You take your time to walk into your shared bedroom with him and as expected, he catches up so fucking quick, and it’s always by surprise when his pace catches up with yours. He grabs you by your shoulders in such quick motion, as he kicks the door shut, and you squeal as you fall onto the cold sheets. It tickles your nipples as the cold envelopes you.
Before you could muster the energy to get up and face him, Wooyoung’s weight presses against yours from above, and fuck, his erection is just pressing against your legs.
“Darling, why would you leave me hanging like that? Got my feelings hurt”, he whispers too calmly, sending shivers down your spine.
You turn slightly, giving him a mischievous look. “How would I know if you’re sober enough to consent?”
Wooyoung scoffs. “You know I’m always sober enough to fuck you dumb. I would never drink more than I can take.”
You could barely muster a reply as his hands hike up your thighs and hooks onto the band of your underwear, and he tugs down oh so painfully slow. Once the garment is removed, he pulls it taut, looking at the pretty wet spot you made on the fabric, and he smiles, satisfied as you fight every cell in your body not to turn shy.
“Besides, why the fuck would I want to forget every time we make love? That would be such a waste, wouldn’t it?” Wooyoung continues, his finger tracing the curve of your spine through the thin fabric. You don’t dare move a muscle, because you know he’d could just do about anything to you, and that now the real thing truly begins. He slowly pulls the strap of your dress all the way down to your ankles, and tosses it onto the ground, his gaze tracing every single dip and peak of your body as you take shallow breaths.
Wooyoung has a piece of long fabric that he probably picked up along the way chasing after you, and he props your ass up, not forgetting to give it a light spank, causing you to cry out.
“I won’t let this ass go to waste, baby. I promise.” Wooyoung hums as he soaks his fingers with his spit before giving your clit some attention. Your face buried in the sheets, loving how sensitive it feels as the arousal travels up your body. You feel Wooyoung pull your hands behind your back and the fabric going through it’s rounds on your wrists.
He leans in from behind, kissing the nape of your neck, before he says, “tell me if it hurts okay?” You nod, feeling your cunt already dripping from the anticipation.
He loops the rest of the fabric to your wrist to restrain them—just how he likes it. He stands back, admiring your ass, as well as the way your fluids are leaking out from your hole—and he hasn’t even started yet.
“Fuck. You’re one pretty little slut”, he inhales, taking the sight of you in like that, and that only makes your cunt flutter at the air. Wooyoung smirks before diving right in, licking a stripe, making sure his tongue flicks against your clit, drinking in your juices as well as your moans. His fingers are still slicked up, and he doesn’t waste time to spit into your cunt before pushing in said two fingers.
Your eyes roll back in bliss. Fuck, it feels so good. No matter how many time the both of you did this, it always feels like a whole new experience, something you ended up craving so much because Wooyoung does it so fucking well. The combination of the pads of his fingertips press against your bundle of nerves consistently as his tongue sending pleasure to your clit pulls a knot in your cunt as your cried fills up the room.
Wooyoung laps you up as if he hasn’t tasted you before, taking note of how your walls are clenching against his fingers. “Cumming soon babe?” He asks, and you barely could answer him, only a soft “yes” leaving your lips. He finger fucks you even more, your g-spot sensitivity hiking up exponentially and your cries growing louder.
“Wooyoung, I’m close. So fucking good. I’m gonna cum-“ and his tongue on your clit increases in speed. The knot in your stomach snaps as your orgasm washes over you so intensely, your hole pulsing against Wooyoung’s fingers, some of your arousal leaking out as you cream on his fingers. Wooyoung doesn’t relent—he sucks on your clit until you squeal from the overstimulation as your high dies down. He gives your cunt a wet kiss before wiping his stained fingers on his slacks before pulling them down.
You could barely catch your breath before you feel his cock sticking between your folds. He doesn’t enter just yet, but he’s enjoying how cunt is so fucking wet that he’s slipping his cock past your throbbing cunt. The alcohol is slightly fucking him up as it slowly bleeds into him. He sighs as he pushes inch by inch into you, and his cock only grows harder when he hears you cry out in pleasure as he goes in deeper.
“So fucking tight”, he groans as he bottoms out in you, and more sobs come out from you. He lets his cock stay in you for a couple of seconds or so to let you adjust, before pulling back—and soaking in your groans—and then pounding right back into you.
Your moans and cries are on top of the wet sounds of skin slapping each other echo in the room. Wooyoung grips the fabric restraints as he fucks into you, pulling you closer to him so his cock reaches in deeper. He groans as you clench around him. You’re crying out Wooyoung’s name as if your life depends on it, creaming so much on his cock, as drool seeps past the sides of your lips. Your eyes were so blown out from the pleasure that nothing else seemed to matter anymore.
“Damn, you’re so fucking loud, baby”, Wooyoung grunts as he gently pushes your face into the pillow, muffling your voice. He releases you quickly, and opts to land his hand on your ass, the sound bouncing around the walls. Your body shakes in surprise and your cries get cut short, replaced with a squeal as your hole squeezes against Wooyoung’s dick, causing him to groan again.
He leans back to look at the mess—the way he’s cock is just slipping into your hole as you continue to cream and pulse on it, the squelching sounds only heightening the arousal as he uses his thumb to tug against your hole, admiring the way you take his cock so fucking perfectly. Fuck. He could really do this all day.
Your mind was really getting hazy as the knot tightens in your stomach. Your body now has a mind of its own as your hips push back against Wooyoung, feeling yourself almost bounce on his dick at this point frantically.
“Slow down, princess”, Wooyoung says, as he strokes your sides, and you deduce that this round of alcohol was making him more relaxed than aggressive this round. You wonder how you should push him to start rearranging your guts.
Through half lidded eyes and uneven pants, you manage to taunt, “I’m pretty fucking sure you can do better than that, babe.”
Wooyoung raises an eyebrow. The alcohol is definitely hazing his senses, so he definitely takes it at face value. Sometimes it’s too fucking easy to get him wrapped around your finger. Not to mention, since he’s half drunk already, the fabric he tied around you was getting loose, and he doesn’t notice your hands slowly pulling the ones around your wrist taut to loosen it.
“You could go harder if you wanted to. Why hold back? You know how much you and I like it fucking rough right?”
Something snaps in Wooyoung, and his hands grab your hips and pulls you in. Then one hand on the restraints, and the other pushing your head into the pillow, as he fucks you into the mattress. Star burst in your eyelids as you could barely keep up with his pace of fucking. Your cunt is gonna be so abused and sore by the end of this but fuck, it was always worth it.
“Say that again, princess”, he hisses as his cock drags along your cunt, sending sparks of pleasure all over your body. You don’t bother, because your mind was turning into straight up mush thanks to his fat cock.
“That’s it. That’s fucking it”, you barely cry out, your thighs shaking as your second orgasm —which you barely could even process—hits you hard. Wooyoung’s moans mount an octave as he feels his cock being squeezed so perfectly around you.
“Oh my fucking god. I’m cumming” his voice coming out a lot less deeper, as his load is emptied into your cunt in erratic spurts, and his grip on your ass doesn’t lighten until his balls are emptied. He releases you when he’s feels that he’s fucked out, rubbing your lower back in smooth circles.
Your wrists release from the restraints as it falls onto the bed, and you heave against the now, warm, sheets. Wooyoung decides to be playful and falls onto you, knocking out the breath out of you. He rains kisses down your temples, cheeks and on your neck before quickly getting up to turn you to lie on your back. He then heads to the closet to grab a towel to clean you up despite the exhaustion biting him.
He lies beside you, and pulls you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste every part of your before sleep lulls him down. As he pulls back, he flicks your head delicately.
“Babe, I told you to fucking slow down, didn’t I?”
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satoruxx · 7 months
Text
HAUNTING ME TONIGHT.
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✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 0.6k words
✧ SUMMARY: this is a coping mechanism for today's jjk leaks so...SPOILERS AHEAD, blood, mentions of death, ANGST, gojo centric, vague af, hints at canon manga events, he goes back and forth between his past and present self, overall confusion bc he doesn't understand what really happened to him, it's bittersweet ig, idk man my emotions are all over the place rn
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: looks like it's a trend for me to write a gojo drabble every time the leaks fuck me up lmao. somehow after weeks of writer's block i managed to spit this out. here's part 1 from back in june when the neck slice happened. this and part 1 don't connect all that much but it's sorta hinted and i wrote this as a continuation. this can be read alone tho. whatever i'm so fucked up rn i'm gonna go back to crying...
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satoru thinks there's blood in his mouth. he can taste it, metallic and coppery as it fills his pharynx and seeps into his throat.
he tastes it even when his body is free from scars and sunlight warms his skin.
it’s comforting, he thinks, the feeling of carefree youth he hasn’t been able to experience in almost ten years. the grin that's stretching across his face makes him forget the blood.
he’s choosing to focus on them instead. focusing on the faces he hasn’t seen in so long. he’s not really sure what he’s telling them, but satoru has always been good at rambling about things like death.
for a second he feels like a teacher, preaching about dying alone, but then he remembers that he’s probably still a student. young and stupid and carefree.
but for some reason, the expression on suguru’s face makes him feel oddly nostalgic.
satoru likes this. he thinks he’d like to snapshot nanami’s expression. it's strange, but it feels like he hasn’t seen him in a long time.
but that’s ridiculous because he’s still a student. he’d seen nanami in class the morning prior.
something about that is wrong. he can’t quite put his finger on it.
he’s in the middle of annoying principal yaga when he catches sight of you.
you're making a face, one that he’s never seen before. it’s half angry and half wounded, like you’ve never been so hurt in your life. the expression unsettles him, and somehow he knows it’ll haunt his nightmares from now until the end of time.
your features crumble, and satoru notices you’re going in and out of focus, so he tries to blink you back into clarity. it doesn’t work.
briefly he wonders if you’re even real.
you glare at him, eyes shining with tears and every bit of hurt in the world.
“you promised.” you hiss, shoulders drawn high and taut as your body trembles with something he doesn’t quite understand.
promised what, he wants to ask, but he finds that he can’t open his mouth to speak to you.
the taste of blood comes back again, pooling in the back of his throat. metallic and coppery.
you bite down on your lip, hard, before turning away from him.
satoru doesn’t know how to reach out to you because his body is rooted in place. it feels like his brain isn’t connected to the rest of him, neurons firing but muscles not working in coordination.
he inwardly curses.
when he looks back, haibara is grinning at him in a way that reminds him so much of someone else. he briefly thinks haibara would suit pink hair. when he catches nanami’s tired eyes, something in his impassive expression tells satoru that he agrees.
there’s a fleeting silence, and the sound of a clock ticking quietly scratches at his brain. he looks at suguru, who’s smiling at him knowingly, skin clean of any stitches, and satoru decides he should commit the sight to memory.
there’s a restlessness in his stomach now, and he feels his torso burn.
he turns back to look at you, the taste of blood now extremely strong on his tongue as he watches your figure slowly start to fade from existence.
for a second, he smells smoke, unpleasant but oh so familiar. he remembers the sound of medical textbooks turning and the echo of an annoyed first grader’s voice. a few barks of a dog follow.
through the taste of blood, he can smell bedsheets. he can smell overly sweet coffee in the morning. he can smell the shampoo you use.
he closes his eyes, smiling ruefully to himself.
you’re right.
he did promise you after all.
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skyeslittlecorner · 2 months
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The little kings scenarios you have are the best! Here's a cute idea: you know how kids think you're the best when you do things they couldn't do? How about a scenario where they think you're the absolute coolest after rescuing them from...idk, something 😅 Like it's hard to imagine them being in grave trouble (maybe except for levi my poor bby) but for the sake of this ask, the little kings ran into trouble and the mc, in all their human capacity, saved them in the nick of time.
These little guys are a thousand times more powerful than their own subjects, let alone humans. Time to give them a problem they can't solve by force (or at least they shouldn't). It's good that in the eyes of children the smallest problems can be the weight of a collapsing world, and it's good that we are here to save them.
A small spoiler for ch5 in Mammon's part.
Satan will do anything to avoid going to the dentist, even as an adult, let alone as a child. But if you go with him, maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe. It's not even about the pain, he just doesn't like it when someone picks at his mouth. It's true that you won't find a magical solution, but you can hold his little hand. And let him squeeze you when he hurts. Also, you can buy him a dog chew. Either way, you will be his most favorite human in all worlds.
Mammon, as a child, had a big problem with too much power in too small a body. When he appeared at the door of your room at night, barely holding back his tears, you didn't think twice and just lifted the covers. He climbs onto the bed with you, and you feel how stiff he is. Help him massage his cramped muscles. The pain will soon pass, and he will hug you like the greatest treasure in the world.
Beelzebub is the easiest one, you just save him from Bael lmao. Not that he's hurting him, but he won't let him sneak out to Paradise Lost, and Beel has such a terrible urge! Take this little king on a trip to Gehenna and you will be a hero. Plus, you'll kill two birds with one stone, because little Satan won't be bored either. In fact, you can try to collect them all like Pokémon and feel like a full-fledged royal nanny. 
Leviathan looks like he's even afraid of his own shadow. At first, he doesn't even trust you, but the more time you spend with him, the better he feels. His comfort zone will become the zone around you. Barbatos thinks he's constantly levitating somewhere close to you, like a planet around the sun. There is no threat in his palace, but in Levi’s eyes, nothing will threaten him only thanks to your presence.
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astermath · 9 months
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touché.
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.4K
notes: inspired by this ask, got just a bit carried away and... well here we are lmao. rlly enjoyed writing this one, hope u guys like it!
tags: best friends to lovers, confessions, difficult feelings, comfort, steve being worried he's hurt you, normal sized font below!
lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further steve harrington related content!
send in some touch starved prompts!♡
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Steve has been your friend for as long as you can remember.
The two of you have always been close, being childhood friends and remaining so even when your high school friend groups could not have been more different. You’d seen Steve through all his phases, some better than others, and he was seeing you through one of yours.
One of the worse ones, apparently.
Truth be told, you had a crush on Steve. It was a recent development, and though you love him, you really, really do, you don’t know if you want to ruin what you have right now.
Things became especially hard when he’d talk about the unsuccessful dates he went on. It was always the same, how they’d pretend to be interested in what he was talking about, how they were all shallow and just wanted a piece of “King Steve”, how he tried showing people he wasn’t that guy anymore… And every time you told him he’d find that special someone. That they weren’t worth his time, that he deserved someone better.
He agreed. He did deserve someone better.
Someone like you.
But you’d been so distant lately. You blamed it on work, saying your boss had been giving you all the late shifts and that by the time you were home, all you wanted to do was sleep. You barely had time to hang out with him or Robin anymore, and it was concerning him greatly.
He tried to call you, ask you if you wanted to hang out, but you either didn’t pick up or had an excuse ready, which was so unlike you.
So he simply took matters into his own hands.
Which lead to him standing in front of your apartment door, holding a bag of snacks and a tape for an impromptu movie night. Just like you used to. Before you started acting so… Weird.
He raises his hand to knock, but stops himself right before his knuckles connect with the hardwood of your front door. What if this is a bad idea? What if you were giving all the signs to just stay away?
He doesn’t know what he did wrong, he wishes he could ask, but he’s afraid the truth will hurt more than just believing he can still make it work. Make the two of you work. In whatever way you want, as long as you’re still there with him. He’d cancel every date with whatever Heidi or Tiffany came his way, just for a single hangout with you.
And he decides that that makes it worth it.
So he knocks. And he waits, longer than usual. He raises his hand to knock again, but stops himself once he hears the familiar shuffle of your socked feet against the carpet of your apartment floor.
He doesn’t mean to sound rude, but the sight of you does seem to reflect your recent state of mind. Your eyes are puffy, your hair is messy and you’re wearing one of his old shirts and a pair of sweats. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, he’s just surprised you didn’t opt for your usual cute pj’s.
“Steve?” Your voice sounds a bit coarse, and it makes him even more concerned than he already was. You, sweet, pretty, so put together and always there for him you, was really going through it. And that really breaks his heart.
So he drops the bag of snacks onto the ground, not caring about the contents inside for the time being. Instead, he envelops you in his arms, holding you so tight you’d think he was scared you might disappear if he didn’t.
He was.
You tense up entirely, not daring to move even a single muscle. A minute ago you were crying your eyes out about a guy you shouldn’t date, you couldn’t date, and now, as if called by some sort of higher being, he’s at your doorstep.
And now he’s hugging you like both your lives depend on it. And you don’t know how to react.
Slowly, your limbs move and wrap around him, your head leaning on his shoulder. Familiarity creeps back into your mind. The contrast of his soft sweater and his rough denim jacket. The scent of his body wash, fresh yet soothing. The tickle of his hair against your cheek.
It’s everything you needed. And suddenly, it’s also way too much.
Your eyes fill with tears at how much you’ve missed this. How much you’ve missed him. How tragic it is that you let your own jealousy and reservations pull you away from your favourite person in the whole wide world.
Steve feels you tremble slightly as you start sobbing softly onto his shoulder. All he can do right now is comfort you, lord knows you need it. His large, warm hand soothingly rubs your back, his head leaning down to press a soft kiss onto the crown of your head. He hates to hear you cry. You look so pretty when you do, but it breaks his heart that he wasn’t there before to help you out. That you wouldn’t let him.
After a moment or two he moves his hands and cups your face, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs to rid them of your tears. Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t seen you in a while, or he just always believes so, but he thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world in that moment.
“Geez peach, how long has it been since someone hugged you huh?” He teases, but it’s not mocking. It's filled with care and concern.
The nickname brings an, albeit slightly reluctant, smile to your face. A feeling of pride swells in his chest at the sight of you not being able to withstand his charm.
“I don’t know… I don’t know what came over me, I just— I’ve been closing myself off and, and I didn’t expect you here and—“
“But why?”
His question catches you off guard. Truth be told, you were only halfway there with processing your feelings, with “getting over him”, and now he’s asking you questions you don’t even really know the answers to.
Or, well— you do. You just don’t want to admit them.
That you’re in love with your best friend.
“Can we… Can we talk about this inside maybe?”
Steve freezes for a moment, before realising that you’re very much still situated in the doorway of your apartment.
“Oh! Yeah, of course, sorry I just—“ a not so subtle blush starts to creep up his face, “I missed you, I guess. I don’t know what came over me.”
You turn, both to go inside and to hide the smile that appears on your face when hearing those words. He missed you. Missed you so much he came to your apartment, unannounced, holding your favourite snacks and nearly leaping into your arms when you opened the door. That’s got to count for something.
Maybe admitting to it wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.
The two of you sit on your couch together. The same couch you have movie nights on, the same couch he sleeps on when he doesn’t want to go home after a party, and the same couch he lays on while complaining to you about Lauren, Sarah, whoever’s turn it was that week.
The air is different now. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, just— strange. You both know there is something to be said, but neither of you know who should say it first. You were never good at breaking the ice.
"It was really nice of you to stop by--"
"I'm really sorry if I did something--"
The two of you speak at the same time, staring at each other for a moment before breaking out in a burst of giggles. It felt like the first time you laughed like that, since... Well, since you last saw him. He had this way of cheering you up no matter what. Seriously, you're sure the world could be on fire, and Steve would still find a way to make you smile. It's like air to him.
"Sorry, uhm," you smile a little awkwardly, clasping your hands together. "You go first."
"Right," He gives the same thin lipped smile back, reclining back onto the old couch he once helped move into your apartment. It's strange, he was here so much, it felt like it was his already. He usually felt more relaxed here than at his own place. Your presence definitely helped.
"I was just, worried, really worried, that I did something wrong, and you just wouldn't tell me. Which is weird, you know, you not talking? Like at all?"
You scoff, a sort of unamused laugh as you hear him out. There's that unabashed humor you missed again. "Go on."
"It's just like-- you tell me everything. You tell me about your shitty ex boyfriend, the stupid customers at your job, how you can't stand how your mom always comments on how you dress, and how your dad is somehow always working, and-- and it's just not like that right now." He pauses, both to catch his breath and to stop himself from rambling on too much. So that's how Robin feels all the time...
"And like, either the thing you don't want to talk about is just that bad, or I've really fucked up your trust. Either way, I'm-- I'm here. And I want to be, seriously."
You don't really know what to say. Not only are you surprised he remembers all the things you've complained about, but that he thinks this is his fault. You've made him feel like you don't trust him.
'Oh Steve.'
"Oh Steve..."
'I love you.'
"It's not your fault, it's just--"
'I love you.'
"My mind doesn't know what it wants right now, and-- and I wouldn't even know where to begin to explain, and--"
'And I love you.'
You sigh deeply, trying to suppress the voice in your head that's practically screaming at you to tell him those words. It feels like an ache, just climbing up your throat, begging to be said, to be heard, to be accepted and returned. And you just can't take that risk.
But it's worse to lose your best friend over a lack of trust, than over a misplaced love confession.
Your eyes slide shut, and you bring your hands up to rub over your face, groaning loudly.
"Is it really that bad?"
"Yes." You say, muffled behind your hands.
"Come on," he shuffles over, hands coming up to pry your own away from your face, "let's see that pretty face."
"Steeeeve, seriously," you start giggling, trying to pull away from him. You lean back against the armrest of the couch, his frame caging you in between it and himself. "I can't."
"I know you can, come on," he finally gets your hands off, holding them in his own, and you're pleasantly surprised by how close he is. His face is cheeky, excited in anticipation of whatever deep secret he's about to hear from you.
"I--" you nearly choke on your words, quite literally getting lost in those brown eyes of his for a moment or two. "Steve, I," you gulp, "I think I'm in love with you."
A pause rests between you two as he lets your words sink in. A painful, excruciating silence. He blinks. Once. Twice. His mouth is slightly agape, and you can nearly hear the wheels turning in his mind.
"You think?"
"Steve!" You think of knocking him off the couch in that moment. To your surprise, he simply chuckles in return.
"Took you longer to figure out than me, that's for sure." His nose scrunches up slightly, and if you weren't so busy experiencing emotional turmoil, you'd point out how cute it is.
"I'm sorry?" Your eyebrows raise. "You knew I was in love with you?"
"No!" He chuckles again. "That I'm in love with you."
Another pause. This one, less painful. More so comedic.
"Oh. I don't know if that makes this more or less awkward."
"Me neither."
"But... Then why all the dates? You know, with all those girls you always complained about?" You shuffle back to sit upright, but the close distance between you two remains the same.
"I don't know, why all the sudden avoidance? Why the ignored calls?"
"Alright, alright. Touché." You chuckle, leaning your head back. "So... What happens now?"
He leans back as well, positioning himself besides you in the exact same way. His pinky is just touching yours where his hand rests, and that alone sends shivers over your whole body.
"I think we just... Do whatever we always did. But now we can also do what we really wanted to do as well."
You scoff out a short laugh. "Oh yeah? Like what?"
He turns his head to look at you. "I could think of a few things."
"Really?"
"Mhm." You can see every freckle from how close he is, every twinkle in his gorgeous brown eyes, every crease in his face from that stupidly pretty smile.
"Care to share?" You resist the urge to grin.
"Well," he leans in even closer, lips brushing gently over your own as he speaks, "if you insist."
His lips slot perfectly against yours. Like they were meant to fit perfectly together.
Like it was always meant to be like this.
His hand moves to cradle your jaw as you move closer to him, frame leaning into his own. His other hand comes up to rest on your waist, a touch you've only silently enjoyed before. His lips move so delicately against your own, the kiss blooming a feeling inside the two of you that now, you've finally grown to accept.
It's hard to pull away, but eventually, you do. Your foreheads lean together, and Steve is the first to open his eyes and speak up.
"You wanna know something funny?"
"Always."
"I've wanted to do that for ages already."
"Yeah, well," you peck his lips again, "you got a lot of years to catch up on then."
"You're right," he leans in once more, this time with more confidence, "better get started now."
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