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#especially if its just both of them being stupid
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"A Kiss?"
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Sirius Black x Reader
"It's not that you don't like Sirius, you do, that's the problem.
that's why being chest to chest with him in a cramped storage closet is not the most ideal situation for you right now"
Masterlist
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It's not that you don't like Sirius, you do, that's the problem.
that's why being chest to chest with him in a cramped storage closet is not the most ideal situation for you right now. Especially when you can smell his woody cologne, the leather of his jacket, and the lingering scent of the cigarette he smoked earlier.
How I got in this situation? A Marauders prank gone wrong. You never really cared about the pranks they loved to pull because they never concerned you. This one went wrong, very wrong, Hence your current situation.
There were only supposed to be a few fireworks outside apparently, of course you didn't know that when loud popping noises disrupted you in the middle of your walk to charms. Professors all came running out of their classrooms, students were shrieking and ducking down, you were just plain confused because, what the fuck? No really, what the fuck?
You were even more confused when Sirius Black, of all people, came hurdling towards you and virtually flung himself onto of you hurdling you both towards the ground. Narrowly avoiding an off track flaming firework that went off into a dazzling explosion resulting in colorful sparks just mere feet away from you. Covering the hallway in a thick fog that made your eyes water.
The shock of it all made you not fight when two strong hands plucked you up off the floor and pushed you into the nearest storage closet.
When you finally come back to your senses and realize, really realize, that you're practically glued to a guilty looking Sirius's chest, lets Just say you flip out to put it lightly.
"What the fuck was that!"
"Those were fireworks."
"No fucking shit Black, why were they inside?"
You don't hear him sigh as much as you feel the breath softly brush against your neck
"Because Remus messed up the spell that he's been working on for months and gave James the wrong instructions causing the prank we have been planning for months to fall apart. I honestly can't believe them, I for one would have never-"
"Sirius! I Don't care about your stupid prank! I care about the fact that I just got tackled to the ground like I was in a quidditch match, burst both my eardrums from the noise, and went blind for at least 2 minutes out their, and you're complaining about how your prank didn't work? Are you serious right now?"
He smirks, and well you pretty much walked yourself right into the next thing he's going to say. It doesn't make it any less annoying.
"I'm always Sirius" he says with the goofiest, boyish grin on his face, and if it weren't for your situation right now, you probably would have smiled back considering Sirius Blacks smile is as close to a beam of sunlight as humanly possible.
you internally scream and give him a deadpan look. He goes back to looking sheepish.
Now that you are calming down, or at least not absolutely fuming anymore, you get a chance to really look at Sirius. You notice the freckle on his cheek, the slight crease in his eyebrow, the scar on his upper lip. He's very pretty, though you'd never say it to his face. Not willing to inflate is already massive ego.
You find yourself slowing your breathing slowing down to match the breaths you feel him taking against your chest. And god his chest, its firm against your body and now you are picturing all the times you saw him by the lake in the warmer months in nothing but his swim trunks and- god is it hot in here? when did it get so hot?
there really isn't much room in here.
Sirius must sense the sudden shift in the room because he opens his mouth to say something, then immediately shuts it.
"Have you seem Sirius, James, Remus, or Peter? I know they had something to do with this. Once I find them they are dead meat. All of them. Detentions, perhaps for the whole year. Find me immediately if you see them. That goes for all student, If you see something say something! I will get to the bottom of this!"
You feel siariuss chest start to shack against yours and muffled giggles Strat coming out of his mouth until he can't hold back anymore and starts cackling
What are you doing? its like you want to get caught! Sirius be quiet I'm not kidding they are going to hear you!" You quickly give up your antics when you realize they are no use to sirius's implacable case of the giggles
So you take your hand and promptly slap it over his mouth.
His eyes widen, but then go back to their normal devious state of unmistakable mischief and he licks your hand. He. Licks. Your. Hand.
"ugh" You snatch your hand away immediately and wipe it down on his shirt without thinking. The problem with not thinking? You're rubbing your hand that was over his mouth on his chest. You are rubbing Sirius Black's Chest.
When you look back up you expect to see his teasing gaze ready to poke fun at you for touching his "Magnificently toned pecs" but his face is, pun not intended, serious. His cheeks are even tinted a little pink, and that just can't be right because Sirius doesn't blush. He gets flirted with by the hottest girl and boys at school and doesn't even bat an eye. There is just no possible way you could have made Sirius black blush, but yet here you are.
Looking up into his eyes you find him staring right back at you.
"You know your eyes are really pretty up close, its kinda hard to see them from across the classroom in potions" Sirius says quietly, voice almost a whisper
and you practically melt on the spot because that was such a nice thing to say. And he said it to you. Perfectly average you.
"Thank you" you breathed out "your eyes are very beautiful too."
"Are they now?" he smiled and quirked his eyebrow
you roll your eyes, "In that case I take it back-"
"No! You can't just take it back, I'm sorry! How can I make it up to you?"
"Make up what?"
"My awful teasing, and me being part of the reason you had to miss charms class and be stuck in a closet with me for twenty minutes"
"being in a closet with you wasn't that bad but I can think of a way you can make it up to me"
"Anything."
"A kiss?" you whisper
He smiles. "I was hoping you'd say that" and he leans down to softly attach his lips to yours.
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leathfaic · 1 year
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gaz and ghost's relationship is super interesting, we don't really get anything on it except for the fact that they seem to know each other (there are cutscenes they're both in in warzone and gaz pulls ghost up as they escape the prison).
and i think in the beginning that's about it. ghost being ghost he knows the man, works with him and isn't super pissed off because kyle is a competent sergeant. like most his relationships with lower rank.
gaz probably thinks the lieutenant a little eccentric with the whole mask and redacted everything bit he has going on but in the end the results of his work are what matters and they are frighteningly good.
he probably tells soap the little he knows about ghost before they get sent out to al mazrah, tells him the man is cold, scarily efficient and a bit weird but values good work. maybe even tells soap that he's not sure if the friendly approach is the best here, just keep it tactical and professional.
that alone is enough to make soap double down on it of course.
but when ghost and soap get together that's when things start to go sour between them. both have their reasons both rational and emotional. gaz is worried for his best friend, doesn't want him to get hurt in a relationship with someone as emotionally stunted as he thinks ghost is. he doesn't really think ghost deserves someone like his brilliant loving friend. and frankly free time at base is limited and he used to spend all of it joined at the hip with soap who is now dedicating a meaningful portion of that time to ghost too. especially in the early days of the relationship it takes a toll on him.
ghost for his part notices the animosity, is scared for that new and wonderful thing he has with soap because he knows gaz has a significant influence on soap. and especially at the beginning he really craves all of johnny's attention and affection. doesn't like the way soap is physically affectionate towards gaz as well and insists on spending time with him alone sometimes. he has yet to learn to trust in this new relationship. and trust really is an issue with him.
and soap? soap is probably just done with them both.
sits them down together and explains that he loves both of them and refuses to lose out on either relationship because they both decided to be idiots about it.
they don't have to like each other but he demands them to at least keep acting professional for his sake. but also if they both want more time with him they'll have to suck it up and spend time with each other too.
in a rare moment of agreeing with each other both gaz and ghost find that they'd both much rather brawl it out, but johnny is not having that, it would get so much worse if one thought they'd "won" this whole thing. so he gently reminds them that he's a human being not a toy being fought over and neither of them can really say something because rationally they know they are being assholes right then.
soap's dictated peace starts of super tense, two men tolerating each other like two big cats that are forced to close. and in the middle soap who acts like nothing is wrong, who's the sole reason that they are both so tense and at the same time keep grinning and bearing it.
in the field its worse, because that's where rank really comes into play which is not healthy in their dynamic. especially once gaz starts dating price and they get into a weird rank deadlock. but neither of them is willing to escalate. because that would make soap sad and that's the one thing they can agree on not to let happen.
so they keep tolerating each other. keep working together. keep helping each other in the field thinking "fucking hell can't look soap in the eyes if something happened to this idiot."
eventually it shifts from not making soap sad to making soap happy. ghost brings takeout from a quick trip outside base and brings some for gaz too because hanging out with him makes soap happy. gaz plans something fun for the weekend and to make soap happy makes sure it's something ghost can also come to without feeling too uncomfortable.
and soap loves it so much both his beat friend and his partner can't help but share his happiness. it's infectious.
so they get to know each other and slowly come round realise that the only threat to their relationship with soap is their relationship with each other. thus it progresses back to its neutral starting point and then steadily becomes more. they spend too much time with each other not to become friends. not that they would admit it. yet they laugh at each others jokes and sometimes even find themselves accidentally hanging out without soap.
both of them are so offended when they find themselves realising it, how the fuck could that even happen? and then soap waltzes in. who's been even happier ever since they started behaving themselves normal around each other again. soap who's love is too strong for them to stay enemies about it so instead they just accept that they never really had a chance to do anything about it but become friends.
some manly huffing noises are made and then they get on with it because soap decided its movie night.
price adamantly keeps out of it, even once things with gaz start happening. won't even talk about it except with soap when they both need to blow off some steam. i could probably (and might) write an equally long piece how that affects them all.
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halforcdad · 2 years
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kate rightfully deserves all the fanfare and love she's getting for stepping back into confident whistler mode to win her girl back, but without lucy pushing through and admitting she loved kate, there is likely no chance of romantic reconciliation between them
if 1x20 ends with "you ruined everything, you broke my heart into a million pieces," it's a sign to kate and the audience that the hurt is insurmountable, that lucy will always associate kate with pain and anger, that she’ll always see kate as the person who broke her, but instead she confesses "I loved you, Kate"
maybe because she wants kate to feel the level of hurt she’s feeling or really understand the magnitude of what they’ve lost or maybe she just can’t hold it in anymore, but the confession is what makes everything click into place for kate and what gives her the resolve to chase after lucy and fight to salvage this, makes her think ‘hey lucy did something huge admitting that to me after everything that’s happened and i have to show her the same effort and honesty” even if it means stepping out of her comfort zone and making a grand gesture in front of everybody they work with
it's about two people finally being brave enough to put themselves fully out there, to be completely open and utterly vulnerable to the person who's most capable of destroying them and deciding to meet each other halfway regardless because its worth it and you love them
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sleepii-moth · 3 months
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the internet sucks because no one else watched the same 3 hour long video that provided in depth analysis and nuanced takes about something and now everyone is just spitting out the same 2 opposing points in an attempt to debate without ever having a chance to get the other person to consider their views at least slightly which has caused the discourse to devolve into needless guilt tripping and i need you people to SHUT UP!!! OKAY!
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alstroemerian-dragon · 10 months
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the tough thing about writing realistic narrative conflict is that. when there aren’t larger sweeping stakes, something like 80% of narrative conflict is predicated on miscommunication or the withholding of information, big or small. and as someone who is both fairly autistic and well trained in conflict resolution, my brain is screaming “WHY DO THEY NOT SIMPLY DISCUSS THINGS OPENLY!!!!!!”
its something im practicing but BOY its hard fkdhfjdhfjs. im having to go “okay what would i say in this situation. now. would this character actually admit that? no. fuck. okay how can i hint towards it without them straight up saying it”
#personal#its an awkward balance to have especially with particular characters#its not necessarily an issue when im writing hajime#both because hes ALSO autistic. and because post shutdown (at least in my brain) hes much more blunt and straightforward#who give a shit about being polite or dancing around words when youre basically a war criminal right#now fuyuhiko is a balance to strike. because when talking to ANYONE ELSE he will say NOTHING about how he really feels unless hes pissed off#or really stressed and running his mouth on accident#now with hajime hes a lot more willing to Discuss Hard Things. however. there are still things he would Never Fucking Say. unless forced#and hajime will force it. eventually#akane is similar to hajime in that shes also very autistic and also just doesnt really care or pay attention to what other people think#but she also has a hard time tackling or discussing more intellectual topics solely because she just. doesnt get them. and also doesnt care#SHES NOT STUPID!!!!! SHE JUST DOESNT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT PHILOSOPHY OR WHATEVER AND THATS FINE#sonias an interesting one because. as a princess she has a LOT of experience talking around things#and so i think she does it just. habitually. pasting on a smile and a pleasant expression and everything is fine#but shes trying really hard to be more open because of hajime and the others. knowing these people are safe to just be her around#its hard bc she spent a year and a half being a military dictator acting on and forcing other people to act on her every sadistic whim#so now shes like ‘i have to be soooooo nice and never cause problems or i’ll die! i’ll simply die’#now kazuichi. kazuichi would never admit any kind of shit under penalty of death#except for the fact that he can not keep his mouth shut to save his life#so whether he wants to or not he will say what he is thinking at the least opportune moment possible#okay i was gonna say more and i wrote it all out but i reached max tags without finishing#so im just not going to say any more <3 love and peace#i have the most experience writing these five but im slowly expanding#i need to get better at kyoko makoto and byakuya bc theyre vital to the first week of recovery#and i. unfortunately. do not care about the first game very much#so im kinda flying by the seat of my pants with them#i need to make byakuya MORE OF AN ASSHOLE. but in a somewhat affectionate way. bc hes had a little time to grow#but hes still. byakuya togami. so he is an Asshole.#i think ive got naegi down. kyoko’s proving the hardest
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moon-rivr · 5 months
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Every day I wake up and want Miguel O’Hara, a man who can cherish me with all my heart but also fuck my brains and yk what so hard to the point it’s mush /j
That aside, I’d looove to see jealous Miggy railing the shit out of Y/N all bc an old classmate from high school/uni was all being handsy and Miguel didn’t like that bc he didn’t get the hint 😏
celoso
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pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: situationship, jealousy, mentions of verbal abuse, reader gets pinned against wall, semi-public sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, biting, marking, unprotected p in v (be safe 🤨🤨), doggy, brief choking, spanking
a/n: so i was thinking of making this into a relationship fic buttt my hand slipped (whoops)
word count: 4.3K
"Wey, you're gonna end up breaking that cup."
Miguel looked down at the glass of champagne he was holding, his knuckles starting to turn white from how forcefully he was holding it. He couldn't help it though, especially with the way Flash wrapped his hand around your waist while he made you laugh. "Not like they don't have more cups," he responded, looking back over to his brother who had a knowing smile on his face. "I don't get it, you both like each other so why not pursue something?" Gabriel asked him, the same question that had been tormenting Miguel these last couple weeks.
The only reason that Miguel had even agreed to come back to the reunion was because of the way that you looked at him, clearly excited to see how everyone's life had been going so far. He didn't care that much about the people that used him for test answers but he wouldn't miss the opportunity to spend some time with you. "We wouldn't be seen together but as long as the two of us know we're there together then who really cares?" You had told him, his plans wrecked by the bomb you'd dropped. He ended up going to the event regardless because no matter how hard he tried, he could never find it in him to deny you anything.
Flashing disco lights mixed with the loud music was supposed to provide an ambiance full of enjoyment but it did nothing more than just torment Miguel. He hated the fact that his eyes seemed to find you in every room you were in without putting in much effort like a siren capturing its prey. All the event did was remind him that he no right to be feeling possessive over you, that he had no authority to be feeling jealous at some other man having his hands all over you.
He knew that you didn't want to pursue a relationship, but he couldn't help the feelings that he'd developed towards you. So in attempt just to have you present in his life, he'd agreed to keep this no-strings fling with you. The lines kept blurring every so often though, with the two of you going on dates and being each other's confidant. He was moderately happy with the arrangement that the two of you shared, but seeing you getting so comfortable with another man made him wish that he had the balls to ask you for something more.
"We're both fine with the no-strings thing we have going on," Miguel told him, loosening his grip on the cup before taking a sip. Gabriel raised a brow as he reached over to grab a champagne glass from the table. "Ya estas muy viejo para andar con estas mamadas," Gabriel retorted, standing next to him as he patted him on the shoulder. (you’re too old to be doing this shit) "Ni tan viejo, solo 27," he grumbled, his brows furrowing even further as he saw you place your hand on Flash's shoulder. (not that old, just 27) "There's people here who are already married," Gabriel offered, letting out a laugh as Miguel’s scowl deepened further.
You were talking with some friends in the middle of the gymnasium floor, trying to avoid eye contact with Miguel as your friends tried to recognize the people around them. "Wow, he's so tall and hot," Sasha, your friend, pointed out and you didn't even have to turn around to know she was referring to Miguel. "Isn't that the guy who used to wear those stupid glasses? I think his name was Manuel or something," your other friend, Jenna, remarked once she stopped kissing her boyfriend long enough to see who you were all talking about. You bit on the inside of your cheek to avoid correcting her, not wanting to drag any suspicion to yourself.
You listened to your friends talking as they excluded you from the conversation, wondering why you even put up with them back in uni. You excused yourself though you weren't sure if anyone really cared about your absence and headed to the bathroom. You were about to enter when you suddenly felt a strong grip on your arm, turning around to be faced with Flash. "Why'd you leave so early, pretty girl?" He asked you, his mouth reeking from the vodka he'd been drinking all night. "I just need to fix my makeup," you responded, trying to get him to loosen his grip but he pushed you against the wall.
"I've been thinking.. we were really good during university so what do you say if we rekindle that flame?" He asked, clearly oblivious to the fear sparking up in your eyes. "Dude, get off me. you're hurting my arm," you tried to plead with him but the grip around you only intensified. He leaned into kiss you, your knee hitting him in the groin once he got close to you. "STUPID WHORE!" He screamed after you ran away from him. You weren't too focused on where you were going, just making the effort to get away from him as much as possible.
You didn't realize you'd bumped into someone, your eyes flickering up to meet Miguel’s red ones. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his gaze softening a bit as he looked down at you. "Oh thank goodness I found you," you mumbled, just burying your head in his chest without caring who was around. His hand came to hold yours, only stopping when he felt you flinch underneath. "Who did this to you?" you could tell that he was trying to remain calm as he asked that question, some venom still managing to seep through. "Flash Thompson," you responded, holding his arm before he had the chance to storm off.
"Can you just stay with me, please?" You asked him, tears brimming on your waterline. He let out a small sigh, almost like he was conflicted but he nodded and went with you to the football field. The two of you sat on the stands, sounds of cicadas around filling up the silence. You leaned against Miguel’s shoulder, finding comfort in just being around him despite the rough facade that he'd built for himself. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, seemingly wanting to keep you away from any further danger that would come.
"It's so stupid, I actually thought that he was an okay partner during our time in university. Like sure, he was verbally abusive towards me but he was nice during these short periods of time," you spoke out, feeling Miguel’s eyes bore into you as you did. "Is that why you're so avoidant on being in a relationship?" He asked you, his hand tracing small circles on your shoulder. You took a couple seconds to think about his question, wondering if Flash had really had that much of an effect on you and your future relationships. "It's part of the reason why, I think seeing everyone around me in unhealthy relationships kind of set in stone for me."
"I don't think it's wrong what you're doing, but are you sure you're not closing off opportunities just because of that fear?" He inquired, his hand coming down to your waist as he held you close to him. The truth was that you did allow yourself to wonder about the 'what-ifs' but they always ended up in the worst result. "I just don't see the whole point of putting myself through the pain of being in a relationship, y'know? Plus, you're pretty good company," you responded, flashing a small smile towards him.
Miguel didn't say anything, but he didn't need to in that moment. All you were looking for was for someone to hold you, to make you feel like you were okay again. You got up when you heard your phone buzzing, a message from your friend asking to come back to the party. "I'll come meet you later tonight," you told Miguel before you left, leaning over to press your lips against his cheek. You couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach as you saw your lipstick mark on him, practically marking him as yours. "Don't think I forgot about all those little touches by the way!" He yelled after you, a small chuckle escaping from his lips while he waited for you to leave.
You walked back into the party, seeing your friends still standing in their spot without Flash. You grabbed yourself a drink from a table nearby, listening in to the conversation happening around you. You let out the small occasional 'hm' and 'mhm' in response to their conversation, not willing yourself to feign more interest than that. If your friends had noticed something off, they hadn't bothered to mention it. Your eyes glanced over to Gabriel, seeing that Miguel still hadn't come back from the field. You found yourself growing a bit worried for him, taking a sip from your soda to try to calm down.
Miguel saw Flash as he walking back from the football field, unable to hold himself back the longer he looked at him. As Miguel approached him, he could tell that his frame clearly overpowered his, but Flash still tried to pretend like he was the one in power of this situation. "What the hell do you want, nerd?" Flash asked him, speaking to him like he didn't matter much more than the dirt below his feet. "What I want is for you not to put a hand on her again," Miguel spoke calmly, despite the storm that was brewing up inside him. "And if I don't?"
The whole thing had happened in a blur, one minute Flash was laughing in face and calling him a nerd and the other he was on the floor screaming for help. Miguel had to mentally restrain himself as he punched him, his fist leaving Flash with a crooked and bloody nose. "That's what happens if you don't," Miguel responded, wiping away the blood on his handkerchief before walking away. He stepped away into the restroom, his hand throbbing as he washed away the blood flash leaked onto his hand. Your concern for Miguel was quickly replaced with shock when Flash came into the gymnasium, blood spilling onto the white shirt he had on.
You’d almost missed Miguel walking in behind him as he tried his best to blend into the shadows while he walked back to Gabriel. Your attention was brought back to the group when they let out a collective gasp once they noticed Flash walking over. "What the hell happened to you?" Sasha asked him, a tone of amusement in her voice as she spoke. "Bumped into a door," he responded, grabbing some ice from the bowl nearby and placing them into a napkin. You noticed he kept his distance from you this time, giving you only the occasional dirty look.
Gabriel looked up from his phone to look up at Miguel, taking a look at his throbbing hand. "Don't ask," Miguel grumbled, placing an ice cold soda against his knuckles. "Wasn't going to. How's the other guy doing?" Gabriel asked before he looked over where Miguel was staring, noticing Flash's bloody nose. He let out a small hiss as a response, clapping Miguel’s shoulder. "Well at least he looks worse than you. I was gonna text you after you abandoned me, met some girl that wanted to dance with me," Gabriel spoke before leaving Miguel alone in the shadows.
You watched as Jenna danced with gabriel, despite the fact that her boyfriend had only just left the event. The group decided to join her on the dance floor and so you did the same, dancing to the rhythm of the song that was playing. Your eyes met Miguel’s as you danced, your hips moving sensually to the rhythm of the song. You could feel other people staring at you and the way that you moved, but your eyes couldn't leave Miguel’s no matter how hard you willed yourself to try. His stone cold facade broke down when he clenched his fists by his sides, a clear sign that you were affecting him.
You looked at him as he pulled his phone out, his thumbs rushing across the keyboard as he tried to write the words out to the best of his ability. You felt a buzz in your purse, seeing a text message from Miguel to meet him in the restroom. You placed your phone back in your purse, taking a small gulp as you walked into the restroom after him. "Second stall," he spoke up once he heard the door close, your heels clicking across the bathroom floor while you walked to him. "What if that'd been someone else?" You teased him as you walked into the stall, closing it immediately to avoid getting caught.
The words soon enough died in your throat as Miguel unbuttoned his pants, his cock hard under his boxers. "You see what you do to me, beautiful? Couldn't stand all those others staring at what's mine," he told you, bringing your face up to his as he kissed you. The kiss was rough, like he was just desperate to get a taste of you. His mouth travelled down to your throat, leaving a small mark on the side of your neck. "You're all mine," he whispered, his touch featherlight as he kissed your neck. You got down on your knees, palming his cock through the boxers.
You slid them off, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. You wrapped one of your hands around it, starting to stroke him as your mouth went towards his thighs. You left small kisses on his thigh, making your way up to his cock. You placed a small kiss on the tip of his cock, your lipstick leaving a mark as you did. You opened up your mouth, swirling your tongue around the reddened head with your eyes locked straight on his. His hand came back to the back of your head, holding you in place as you got started.
You took more of his cock in your mouth, never growing quite adjusted to the size of him. Your cheeks hollowed as you made your way down his shaft, your tongue running down the underside of his cock. His hips bucked forward, your gags filling up the empty bathroom. "So pretty, all stuffed with cock like that," he murmured, your eyes watering slightly as you tried to control the tears streaming down from your cheeks. Your hand wrapped around the base, pumping what your mouth couldn't reach and the other one went to play with his balls. You held his heavy balls in your hand, tugging them slightly and massaging them in your grasp.
"Oh fuuuck, just like that," he moaned quietly, soft groans erupting from his chest as you continued to suck on his cock. You pulled away, spitting on the tip while the liquid travelled downward. Your grip on the base tightened as you moved your hand up and down his cock, looking up at him in anticipation. You brought your mouth back to his cock, your lipstick smeared across and your mascara dripping down your cheeks. "Tan hermosa que eres," he groaned as he felt your tongue running along the underside of his tip, the sight of him looking so disheveled making your panties wetter by the second. (you’re so beautiful)
You felt your pussy clench around nothing as you sucked him off, your panties damp from how much you were affected by this. You felt his legs shaking underneath you, his groans becoming louder as he approached his orgasm. "Where do you want it?" He asked, his voice cracking a bit from the sensation he was feeling. You opened up your mouth, sticking your tongue out as your hand pumped him at the same rate you were going beforehand. "Just like that, don't stop," he told you, biting into his hand as he approached his orgasm. White ropes of cum filled up your mouth, some of it landing on your cheeks and chin.
"I look horrible," you noticed as you looked at yourself in the mirror, your lipstick barely clinging on. "Well I think you look pretty," Miguel responded, wrapping his arms around your waist as he peppered your neck with more kisses. You wiped away at the mascara dripping down from your cheeks, deciding to give up on that aspect and just fix up your lipstick. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you saw the mark on miguel's lips, handing him a piece of tissue paper to clean up.
Once the two of you had fixed up the slightest bit, you left at separate times. You waited for Miguel to text you the okay before leaving the bathroom, walking back over to your friends. "What's up with you? You keep disappearing," Jenna pointed out once you came back, the darkness of the gym hiding away the hickey blooming on the side of your neck. So much for them not noticing your absence.
"Just drank a little too much soda," you responded, keeping your voice even so they wouldn't notice your little fib. You looked around, noticing that Gabriel was standing off to the side once more. "What happened to dancing with him?" You decided to change the subject, receiving a small shrug in response. "I don't know, he's too sweet? His brother, though, definitely looks like he's a freak in the sheets," she pointed out and you couldn't help but feel a bit of possessiveness over Miguel. You decided to ignore her little comment, letting her go back to talking with the rest of the group.
Miguel walked back over to Gabriel, finding him sulking alone in the shadows. "It's funny, almost every girl I've been with chooses you for some reason despite the fact that you're an asshole," Gabriel spoke up, Miguel’s chest tightening up a bit as he spoke. He'd never meant to make his brother feel inferior, never meant to make him feel like he was something less. "The girl you were dancing with had a boyfriend so I wouldn't wallow too much over that," Miguel responded, approaching Gabriel slowly. "Yeah, you're probably right," he responded with a small sigh, still feeling down.
Soon enough, another woman had approached Gabriel and asked him for a coffee, without offering Miguel as much as a second glance. Miguel looked down at his phone, checking the time on his phone before walking out of the gym. You came out right after he did, stepping side by side with him. "How's your brother doing? Jenna’s kind of.. a lot so I’m sorry," you spoke up first, looking up at Miguel. "He's alright, he found someone else to get over it. How do you feel about getting back to my place?"
On the drive back home, you couldn't help but feel aroused at the sight of him behind the wheel. He just drove so eloquently, his muscles flexing in the thin button down he had on with every movement that he made. You spread your legs, noticing Miguel looking at you through the corner of his eye. You tentatively played with your folds through the thin material of your panties, looking over at Miguel as he struggled to maintain his composure. "It's like you want me to crash, little minx," he muttered, looking straight at the road. You took off your panties slowly, bringing your fingers up to Miguel’s mouth.
He wrapped his mouth around them as he kept his attention on the road, covering them in his spit. You brought them back into your weeping hole, sticking them in. You started off slow, your slick combining with his spit each time you pushed them inside. Miguel’s hand around the steering wheel tightened, letting out a grunt as he heard the squelch from your pussy. You began rocking your pelvis against your hand, riding your two fingers as soft moans escaped from your lips. Miguel brought his other hand towards your clit, rubbing the nub as he continued to drive across the empty streets.
Just as you were about to cum, Miguel pulled his hand away despite your protests. "You'll only be coming around my cock, understand?" He told you, the car coming to a stop. You looked around, noticing that the two of you had arrived to his penthouse. You felt your pussy clench up at his promise, your shaky feet barely taking you out of his car. Without a word, miguel picked you up with ease and locked up the car before taking you inside.
The two of you had barely gotten through the door when Miguel started kissing you, his mouth engulfing around yours like he was afraid you'd go away. "We should go to the bedroom, yeah?" You suggested to him in between kisses, his hand grabbing yours as he led you up the stairs. The minute the two of you had made it back to the bedroom, his lips were back on yours as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth like it was the first time doing so.
He wasted no time in zipping down your dress and taking off his clothes, a pile quickly building up underneath the two of you. "Get down on your hands and knees," he told you, your body obliging almost immediately. His hand rubbed the globe of your ass cheek, a sharp smack taking all the breath from your lungs. "I want you to count for the amount of times he had his hands on you," he spoke, his hand gently soothing the sting from the previous slap. "Okay!" You exclaimed, letting out a moan as his hand came down to smack your ass once more. "One!"
The process continued for four more times, Miguel’s hands gripping your hips as he pushed his cock inside of you. "You only belong to me, I don't care if it's official to you or not, it is to me," he spoke, a small grunt escaping from his lips as he felt your pussy clench around him. No matter how many times he'd fucked you, the process was still a stretch every time. You gripped onto the pillow below you tightly, his cock moving inside of you slightly as he tried to fit in.
He retracted his cock, slamming into you in sharp thrust. "All mine, understand?" He told you, leaning in slightly as his chest hit your back. "All yours!" You responded, the words not feeling like something you were just saying in the moment. The grip around your waist tightened, his cock retracting out of your pussy much faster this time. Drool rolled down to your chin as he sped up, his thrusts almost punishing you for letting another man touch you. Your back arched, stomach against the bed as he rocked you back and forth.
He brought you back up, your back plush against his chest while his hips snapped into yours. You held onto the headboard, the wooden frame hitting the wall with every thrust that he took. One of his hands held your waist as he fucked you to his will, the other wrapping around your throat. He provided enough pressure to make your vision blur at the edges but not enough to the point where you were suffocating. The blood rushed up to your head with every thrust that he took, your mouth parted in a 'o' shape as you moaned out babbles of what seemed to be his name.
He tilted your head back to his directions, leaning in as he kissed you with such intensity that it made you dizzy. You weren't too sure if it was from him or the momentary oxygen loss, but you couldn't get enough of how well he was fucking you. You went back to being on your hands and knees, almost feeling his cock in your throat from this angle. One of his fingers circled the rim of your ass, never willing to do that without your proper consent but he liked to toy with the idea every so often. That hand went down to your clit, rubbing your clit and flicking the nub to the rhythm of his thrusts.
A new wave of your slick coated his cock, some of it rolling down to the covers beneath the two of you. Your mind was erased from every thought that didn't include coming around Miguel’s cock. Your walls clamped around him once more, a moan erupting from your throat while your release coated his cock. He continued with the same pace, fucking you through the orgasm as he sought out for his own release. His thrusts stuttered slightly, becoming off-pace as he reached the brink of his own orgasm.
His head came down to your shoulder, biting down on it as white ropes of cum coated your walls. His fangs gently grazed against your shoulder blade when he removed his mouth, waiting for his cock to soften up so he could remove it. He slid out in one swift motion, getting a rag from the bed stand. he cleaned in between your thighs, his touch light as he did. "Can you stand up for a minute? I'm not letting you sleep on those sheets," he asked you, helping you get up from the bed.
After he'd changed the sheets, you couldn't help but look up at him curiously. "Was that talk about me being yours just something out of the heat of the moment or..?" You asked, trailing off since you didn't want to make wrongful assumptions. "No, it wasn't. I only agreed to this stupid fling because I just wanted to be with you. I'm sorry if I'm acting rash or anything, we can go back to normal," he responded, willing to put aside his feelings for you just so he'd have these moments. "I don't want things to go back to normal, I want to be with you."
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i-cant-sing · 4 months
Note
I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.
No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.
Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.
Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.
Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).
The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"
And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.
You didn't like either nickname.
Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.
Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.
And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.
Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.
Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.
"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"
After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.
The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.
It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"
Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.
Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.
You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.
You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.
It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.
"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."
She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.
She died on the spot.
Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.
She wasn't a fucking Wayne.
If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.
But you didn't.
When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.
"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"
You sighed. Might as well get this over with.
You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.
"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."
Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"
"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."
"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.
"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.
"But I don't want you to move-"
You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"
Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.
"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"
Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"
"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.
-
They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.
He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.
Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.
"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.
"What now?"
"Where are you going?" Tim asked.
"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.
"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?
"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.
"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.
You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-
They were all dead serious.
"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.
"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.
"Bruce-"
"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."
"I'm fine-"
"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."
You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.
Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.
After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.
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luveline · 5 months
Note
we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333
ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k
“Spencer, are you coming in?” 
The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in. 
“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.” 
He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last. 
You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long. 
“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?” 
Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?” 
“Shot at.” 
“Is it bad?” 
Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?” 
He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring. 
You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.” 
“Does it hurt?” 
“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?” 
“I'm looking at you.” 
“You know what I mean.” 
The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died. 
“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.” 
Of course he knows that. 
“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry. 
“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.” 
He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you. 
Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems. 
Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken. 
He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself. 
Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.
“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.” 
“It's not your fault, Spence.” 
“What would you call it?” 
You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer. 
“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly. 
He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs. 
“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.” 
Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time. 
“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully. 
“I told you it's not your fault.” 
“For not being here to hold your hand.” 
Your hand curls in the front of his shirt. 
“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?” 
“What was I supposed to think?” 
He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.” 
This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off. 
They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back. 
“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses. 
“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.” 
He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.” 
“Forever, then.” 
For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush. 
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signedkoko · 5 months
Note
Heyo! I return!!!!
Could I get a mammon, blitzø and alastor (separate) with a wife reader who’s really oblivious and ditzy? Sorta like a bimbo?
🦷 anon! <33333
Alastor | Blitzo | Mammon [Romantic]
In which their partner is extremely oblivious and ditzy.
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Well, that's what he was here for, isn't it?
To make it look like you know what you're doing, to be the reason or you little 'show'
According to the public eye, if you're his partner then theres no way it's not a character, Alastor would NEVER date a clutz, let alone have the patience for one
Alastor found these little whispers amusing
Everyone thought they had some idea of what he was, but they were always throwing darts at the wrong board
All the better for him, he gets the joy of you making every day new and exciting as well as the strange rumours people came up with about the two of you
Everyone else was just so boring, so pitiful to the overlord
Either kneeling to his every wish, or putting on a face until he left them alone, or the rare run away screaming
But when you bumped into him on the street, you asked him if he was that 'one guy who tortured people and put it online' before you even apologized
Then you asked if he would kill you, and when he said yes, you asked if he could not
Oh yes, that made him laugh alright, you were such a cracking star
Anytime you might ask something stupid, he turns it into a joke and explain it to you later behind closed doors
Falling? tripping over yourself? He catches you and makes it look like a romantic dip, or a small dance
To him, you're cluelessness has its charm, because you've always been so honest and forward about everything that he doesn't ever feel like he has to pull secrets from you
You also amuse his every little quirk, which everyone else just finds weird, so that's a major plus
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Oh my god he is so stupid
But you make him look so smart it's insane, just add you to the room and suddenly he's a genius
At first, it was just by comparison, but now in order to compensate for you he is always trying his best to be the smartest he can be
Especially in his line of work, Blitzo doesn't like the idea of making a mistake that could cost your life
So instead he trains to make sure he can save you when you need it
You guys are very damsel in distress/knight in shining armour
Except this kind of backfires because him being so serious starts to get him caught a lot...and you always manage to get him out (usually by mistake)
Like that one time you busted into a room full of 20 armed demons and dropped your gun when they came at you, but it went off and landed in a crate of explosives
I mean both of you were very injured but you both got out soooo
" You really are the dumbest slut I know, my sweetie-pie. "
He gets really defensive about you, though
Sure, he’s your husband so he can make fun of you
But if anyone else calls you anything along the lines of stupid or useless he blows up on them
Sure, you're a bit oblivious, but they don't know your talents, and all the things you teach him behind closed doors
He won't let anyone get away with being cruel to you
A little bit of a roger rabbit and jessica rabbit duo
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Honestly exactly his type
Extremely wealthy husband and his bimbo wife?
The newspaper headlines go crazy for you guys and your strange duo, and a lot of photos of the two of you together are popular
Sort of funny looking tree man and his dolled up wifey
He's not really the brightest either, not when it comes to simple things that don't have to do with money or his status
So you are both very oblivious to things that aren't entirely straightforward and always have to whisper back and forth about a topic until you can figure it out
Two idiots in love
Nevertheless, he loves your dependance on him
He likes that you are always by his side in case you need help, so you are safe and sound
He's just as clingy as you are, he always has one arm around your waist
Calls you all sorts of sort of derogatory pet names but in a loving way
Dolly, sweetheart, gorgeous, legs, etc etc
Honestly though you are also probably explaining as much to him as he is you, just in different topics
But he has the confidence to go with his lack of knowledge and obliviousness
And confidence gets you far
" Yeah, like, the moon is full once a week or some shit "
" Isn't it once a month? "
" No doll, that's how often a blue moon occurs. "
" Ohh! Like once in a blue moon? "
Anyone overhearing this shit is fucking rolling in their grave 
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Author's Note - Hiii welcome back tooth anon!!! Sorry this took a hot min, for some reaosn this prompt was so hard for me but I REFUSED to give up (Never sleep never what!?!?!) Thank you for requesting, and I hope you enjoy!
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captain-joongz · 2 months
Text
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Tits out
Pairing: best friend!Wooyoung x f!reader
Genre: bffs to ??, college au, pure smut, barely any plot, fluff, humour
Summary: When talking to your best friend about your nipple piercing during movie night backfires in the most spectacular way possible and Seonghwa's new couch gets caught in the crossfire
Word count: cca 7k
Warnings: reader is chubby, there's no discussion, they just jump into it, titty sucking, nipple and nipple piercing fixation, unprotected sex (this is pure fantasy, be careful in the real world), a little bit of body insecurity about body hair, fingering, doggy, squirting (let me know if i missed anything)
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I had met Wooyoung back in the first year in uni and now four years later we were still going strong. The man that walked in confidently into a lecture hall, bee-lined straight for the empty space next to me and was sitting down before I even comprehended his question of “is this seat taken?”, who then proceeded to talk my ear off and invite himself for lunch with me, was quite easy to befriend, believe it or not. After sitting next to him a few times and going for lunch later, I’d managed to get out of my shell a little too and soon we were two merry extroverts steamrolling through university hip to hip. He’d become one of my best friends, one of my closest friends and a person that understood me almost perfectly. We knew we could count on each other completely and trusted each other blindly.
I was introduced into his friend group, and he was into mine and we often hung out together in huge groups of rowdy younglings, going dancing and spending weekends eating too much junk food and watching bad movies someone had put on, but no one really paid attention to besides the occasional joke about its stupidity. I couldn’t count how many times I’ve done something extremely stupid while hanging out with them and was heavily encouraged by both Wooyoung and San. It was the most fun I’ve had though, and that’s what really mattered.
Now I was already out of school, but Wooyoung and most of his friends were continuing with their studies. Due to this, we tried to hang out every Friday, but a lot of the time it ended up being just me and him or even just me sitting in their living room watching Netflix waiting who makes it home first. It was like my second home at this point, and no one was phased when I showed up out of the blue and sat on the couch like I owned it. Especially since Seonghwa bought the new one, that one was extremely comfortable.
Usually, Friday night was a hang out and movie night for me and Wooyoung anyway, but today I was a woman on a mission. A few months ago, I had gotten a nipple piercing. It wasn’t my first one (though it was definitely the most painful one) so I wasn’t extremely worried about it, but lately it has been acting up a little. It usually didn’t hurt but sometimes there would be this slight discomfort around it and I’ve even noticed some slight scabbing even months later. I knew realistically that it was most likely okay, but my anxious nervous little brain had managed to convince me that I’m going to lose my tit or something. That’s why I needed a second opinion. And that’s where Wooyoung came in.
Tonight, I was making my way towards their flat knowing I’m about to ask Wooyoung for the weirdest favour one ever could, but it should be okay, right? We were such close friends, it definitely wasn’t a big deal, right? You normally asked your friends to take a look at your tits and tell you whether there’s something weird about one of them, that was just a usual Friday, no?
I checked the group chat again and confirmed that it would be just me and Woo tonight and then made my way to their building’s door. They lived on the fourth floor without an elevator, which would normally be a minus, but since it was an old warehouse made into an apartment building, their flat was actually massive and housed all of them without a problem, so I graciously sacrificed myself and stomped up the stairs a few times a week to see their faces (and eat their food).
Upon arriving to the flat, I found Woo busy making something in the kitchen, humming lightly while whipping cream like a 50s housewife.
“What you up to?” I asked casually strolling into the room, making Wooyoung jump with shock. “Jesus fucking Christ, you sneak in all the time and yet I still get scared by you,” he said and put his hand over his heart. I slapped his shoulder and peeked at what he was making.
“You literally gave me the keys, Wooyoung, I’m hardly sneaking in,” I said and rolled my eyes at him. He just laughed and pushed me out of the kitchen. “Shut up and start choosing the movie or I know we’ll just end up scrolling through Netflix for hours like always,” he shouted over his shoulder and went back to whatever snack he was making.
As I sat on the couch, I was steeling myself for what I was about to ask him, trying to figure out how to bring it up. No time like the present, right. I mindlessly scrolled through the movies, but really I was waiting for Woo to join me in the living room. Then finally he came in through the door, a plate of little cheesy snacks in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other. I was just about to open my mouth, but he cheekily winked at me and made his way back to the kitchen. When he returned, he was holding a little tray with two cups of hot chocolate, the coke and two glasses.
He finally joined me on the couch and for a while we both just sat there, arguing about whether we want to watch a comedy or a thriller, while I was thinking how to broach the subject. But in the end, I didn’t even need to do that. In the middle of my sentence about how I’m not watching another stupid horror movie about nothing, Wooyoung suddenly turned to me and just gave me this look. And I knew I was done playing around. I stopped in the middle of talking and stared at him. He grinned.
“Okay, just spill it,” he said when I stayed silent for too long.
“What do you mean?” I attempted to stray away from the topic until I was ready, but he’d already saw through me. “Really?” he asked incredulously, “I’ve known you for years, you think I don’t recognise when you want to talk about something? Just spill the beans already.” I heaved a deep sigh and then turned on the couch to face him. He was still grinning.
“Okay, this might be really weird, but just bear with me for a while, okay?” I started. While I was slightly worried about the piercing, I also couldn’t help but fear Woo’s reaction, after all this wasn’t exactly a normal thing to ask your friend. I knew worst case scenario he’ll just say no and laugh it off, but still. He looked a little more serious for a moment, but then I continued talking. “I need you to look at my tits, okay?”
Wooyoung looked at me shocked for a moment and then bursted out laughing. I just glared at him annoyed. “Hear me out-“ I started but he cut me off. “Is this about like being insecure about them? You want me to look at them and say they’re okay? Y/N, you know your tits are amazing-“ he was going on and on, but this time it was me who cut him off.
“God, no, nothing like that,” I shut him up embarrassed. While it was true that I was slightly insecure about my plump figure, I loved my boobs, I knew they looked great. They were simply just right, it was one of the things I loved about my body. Wooyoung sensed that it must be something more serious and gestured for me to continue.
“You know I got the piercing, but lately it started to act up a little and I’m getting nervous and I just need you to look and tell me it looks fine,” I got out in one breath and he just stared at me. “Okay…? Why don’t you look into the mirror?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I have, but since I’m getting so nervous about it, I need a second opinion,” I explained, “Come on Woo, I know it’s a super weird and gross request, but help me out here.” Wooyoung laughed again and smirked at me.
“Gross and weird?” he repeated, “Not only I’ll see a nipple and a piercing, but I’ll also see a boob and a nipple with a piercing, that’s like some of the best things in this world combined together.” I slapped his shoulder again, but we both laughed this time.
“You’re the worst, god,” I said laughing, “I’m surprised you haven’t died over being such a fucking horndog all the time yet.” He laughed too and then gestured to my top.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just shut up and pull your tits out,” he joked and made himself comfortable on one end of the couch. I wasn’t particularly shy about showing my body, so it wasn’t that hard to bare myself like this. Hell, me and Woo have probably seen each other naked a few times but just didn’t care enough.
I pulled the two straps of my top off my shoulders and bunched the fabric around my waist, then reached around to my back to take off my bra. When it hit the floor Wooyoung’s full attention was suddenly on my chest, and it flustered me a little. I fought the instinct to cover myself with my arms and instead just sat there, topless with my best friend intensely staring at my boobs.
“So?” I asked anxiously, “What do you think?” He suddenly straightened up and it brought us quite close to each other. “That you have really great tits,” he said absent-mindedly, his hands raising on instinct as if going to squish them. I flushed and swatted at them. “Yeah, I know,” I said annoyed, “that’s not what I asked though.” That seemed to break him out of it a little bit and he hunched down so his face was on level with my chest. I face-palmed and hoped no one would come home unannounced, cause this would be damn hard to explain.
“No, yeah I think it’s okay,” Woo said after a while, “I mean, the pierced one looks a little different, but that’s to be expected. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.” I relaxed at hearing him say so and felt the tension leave me at once. But I just needed a little more to feel completely at ease.
“Can you like… touch it to see if it’s weirdly warm or if there’s some weird texture or something?” I asked embarrassed and quickly looked to the side when Woo’s head whipped up to look at me. “You want me to what now?” he questioned me flabbergasted.
“I don’t know, dude! You’re the one that gets into contact with tits, you’ll know if there’s something wrong with it!” I started hurriedly explaining myself, growing more flustered by the minute. Wooyoung stayed quiet for a moment and then sighed. I thought this was finally the line that was too far for him, but then his hand suddenly flew up and stopped just millimetres from my nipple. We both just sat there, holding our breath, not knowing where to look, when he slowly brought his fingers in contact with my skin. I gasped quietly, but in the silence it was still audible. I flushed in embarrassment and refused to look anywhere else except for the wall by the TV.
Wooyoung’s fingers messed around a little, pressing down on the nipple and gently squeezing it, also lightly touching onto the piercing. Surprisingly enough, what I felt wasn’t pain like I feared. With every soft brush of his fingers over the sensitive skin, a little bolt of pleasure shot through me and I had to fight to keep myself from gasping more or arching into his touch. I felt the blush spreading over my face and completely mortified I noticed beginnings of a scorching wet heat between my legs.
Then suddenly his hand was gone and he was clearing his throat. The silence that set between us was broken and we both started shifting around, not knowing what to do with the situation we found ourselves in.
“I think it’s totally fine,” he said, his voice somewhat hoarse, but I was so embarrassed I barely even registered it.
“Oh thank god, I was really getting nervous,” I said and laughed a little awkwardly. Wooyoung wasn’t saying anything and just sat in front of me tensely, so I assumed it was good and he just needed a moment to shake off the sudden awkward atmosphere, and turned around to find my bra. That was a rookie mistake though. The moment my eyes left Wooyoung, he striked. As I was searching the floor with my eyes, suddenly what felt like a lightning strike went through my whole body. My back arched on instinct, and I toppled backwards onto the couch with a loud moan.
Wooyoung’s mouth has attached itself onto my pierced nipple and he sucked again, another shock pulsing through me and pleasure suddenly flooding my senses. My hands flew to his shoulders, but instead of pushing him away I just pulled him closer. I myself wasn’t sure of what was happening or what we were doing, but it felt too good to dwell on it and I definitely didn’t hate it.
Wooyoung moved closer and made himself comfortable between my spread thighs, his mouth busy sucking and licking around my piercing. I was letting out tiny breathy moans, my legs instinctively pulling him closer to my core, hoping for a little friction.
“What… what are you doing?” I finally gathered my wits and asked breathlessly. I looked down to see the top of his head moving around. He peaked up to look at me and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I’ve never been with a girl that has a nipple piercing, I couldn’t help myself,” he explained, and I rolled my eyes at him.
“You damn horndog,” I muttered, but didn’t push him away or stop him. That gave him confidence to continue, and he smirked at me, as one of his hands brushed down my front until he was slightly pushing on my clit through my clothes and I arched again. He moved to the other nipple and played with it a little, while his unoccupied hand moved to my other breast, touching it teasingly, squeezing it slightly and thumbing the piercing.
“It’s so sensitive,” he murmured and watched his hand completely fascinated. I was about to retort something, but he chose that moment to bite at my breast and move up to leave wet hot kisses on my neck and a loud moan came out instead. It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone, and I was starting to worry I might utterly embarrass myself. One of my hands sneaked down between our bodies, trying to encourage him to touch me properly instead of just gently pressing, but he caught it and pulled it up to my shoulder. Suddenly he was towering over me, smirking at me and just generally being a menace. I arched again, this time trying to push our lower halves together, but he avoided me with a laugh.
“God, please, Wooyoung just touch me,” I begged him as the desperation from the scorching heat cursing through my veins was taking over, throwing everything into the wind and fully committing to getting fucked by my best friend. He kept smirking and propped himself up over me on his elbow.
“Touch you, huh?” he said and suddenly his hand was back to teasing my clit, this time with more force. I keened and pushed up into him, suddenly embarrassedly realising just how wet I’d gotten from such small ministrations. He chuckled watching me, head diving to take my pierced nipple into his mouth again, gently playing with it with his tongue and scraping his teeth over it. I jerked and my hands flew into his hair, holding him in place so that he’d never stop, my mouth falling open on a silent moan, too overwhelmed by the sensation to properly function. He slowly moved up to my neck, peppering kisses and small bites along the way, while his fingers moved in little circles over my clothed clit.
I was so turned on I could die, I needed him to touch me properly – like stuff me full of his long beautiful fingers. And I told him as such. And he laughed at me.
“Aw, such a little desperate angel, aren’t you?” Wooyoung whispered into my skin. I whined his name, hoping it would speed him up. He scoffed at me playfully but moved away to pull my shorts off, grabbing them with one hand and pulling them down in one swoop; leaving me a little breathless and only in a bunched up top around my middle, while Wooyoung was still fully clothed. I started pulling his shirt off and he obliged, flinging it to the other side of the room eagerly.
Woo sat back on his heels between my spread thighs to take me in and I started to feel shy again, hands moving to grab onto him and pull him back onto me, but he pushed my arms back into the couch and held them there for a moment, before sitting back again.
“No, no, angel, I’m looking at your pretty pussy,” he teased me, hands grabbing at my full thighs to keep them spread wide. I looked down and suddenly an insecurity reared its head again. About two years ago I had stopped shaving in my intimate area, only trimming it a little, cause it irritated my skin too much and the last time I was about to get some, the guy called me disgusting. Wooyoung was currently watching me like a starved man in front of a feast, but still I nervously covered myself with my hands. His eyes flicked up to me, questioning, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Sorry,” was all I said, mad at myself that I couldn’t even properly get out why I was suddenly so uncomfortable, and he looked at me all confused. “What are you sorry for?” he asked, but then realisation lit up his eyes and he moved to stand up from the couch, “Did you change your mind? You know it’s okay to tell me.” I looped my legs around his waist to pull him back to me and he fell forward with an “oof”. This pressed his erect cock to my core as he held himself up with his hands right by my head and we both moaned at the contact. My legs kept encouraging him to grind into me and for a moment we both just breathlessly moved against each other, Woo releasing little moans and sighs into the heated air between us, and I watched his half-lidded eyes slowly become hazy with pleasure, utterly fascinated.
“So I guess no changing of minds,” he chuckled on a small groan as his hips started thrusting a little harsher against me, losing all rationality and just chasing pleasure. “No, nothing like that,” I whispered back and pulled him for a kiss for the first. As soon as our lips touched, we started hungrily devouring each other, moaning into each other’s mouths and our hands grabbing onto each other desperately. I ended up helplessly grabbing onto his back and most probably leaving red scratches in my wake.
After a moment Woo pulled away, sat back on his heels again and I whined and tried to pull him back, leading him to laugh at me once more; but his fingers went straight for my pussy, spreading it open and sliding through the wetness there. As if placated, I immediately stopped whining and arched my back more, begging for his touch.
“What was that about before?” he asked slightly breathless and I could see he was being serious, even though his finger started slowly circling my clit and playing around. I could barely concentrate on explaining as I was too busy drowning in the liquid pleasure spreading through my entire body.
“Just a little… hng- a little insecure about- about my hair,” I answered while writhing around, simultaneously wanting more and hoping he’d stop so that I could explain properly. His eyes immediately flicked down between my legs just as his finger slid down and slowly slipped into me. I moaned loudly, hands grabbing and squeezing the couch. His gaze was trained on my hole as he pumped his finger in a few times and then quickly slid in a second one.
“Fuck, you’re so wet..” he whispered, still watching his fingers slowly fucking into me, his other hand going to squeeze his erection still tenting his sweats. My mouth was hanging open, eyes unfocused, noises just pouring out as I was finally feeling full for the first time. But then suddenly he pulled his fingers out and focused on me again. I actually sobbed out, trying to close my legs to keep his hand from leaving, but they were still kept spread by his hips.
“Why would you be insecure about it?” Wooyoung whispered and it took me a moment to remember what we were talking about before. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him, sitting between my spread legs with an obvious erection in sweats stained by my wetness from our grinding before. I flushed again and tore my eyes away from his cock, only to catch his smug smirk. I schooled my expression and said: “The last guy I was with called it disgusting. Said he’s not Columbus to be exploring the rainforest.” Wooyoung scoffed.
“What a fucking asshole, who even comes up with shit like that?” he asked incredulously, “Well, clearly he’s a fucking coward, but thankfully… I’ve always liked a little bit of adventure.” He said the last bit all flirty, winking like an absolute sleaze and I just knew something awful was coming. “Besides,” he said while pressing himself into me again, “the rainforest is the perfect place for my anaconda.” I groaned, but this time from pure embarrassment at his jokes while he cackled like a madman. I pushed him away and started to turn around so that I could stand up.
“God, I changed my mind, get off of me,” I said morosely, but he just grabbed my hips and used the momentum to turn me around and get me on all fours, then pressed us together. A bolt of arousal shot through me, and my arms buckled under my weight, my face pressing into the couch while my ass stayed propped up by Wooyoung, pressed into his hips.
“Actually, this is quite a good idea,” he said grinding into me, “I always knew you’d love to be fucked like this.” He bent over me, his chest pressing into my back as he whispered straight into my ear. “Pressed down like this, taken from behind quick, rough and dirty,” he murmured, “Put nicely in your place…” I moaned unabashed, hips pushing back onto his cock on their own and lust making itself painfully known again; in response I could feel Wooyoung’s hands tightening on my skin and suddenly he pulled back to hurriedly tug his sweats down. His hands made their home on my hips, squeezing and pulling, keeping me pressed into him, his cock slotting between my thighs and sliding along my wet pussy. I keened and attempted to grind back, but he held me as his hips pulled back.
“God, please,” I begged, “Please, Wooyoung, give it to me…” He held himself with one hand and I heard him chuckle. “You want it?” he teased. I felt the head of his cock gently teasing around my hole, slightly pushing in and pulling out again. I sobbed exasperated and nodded, face mushed into the couch and hands grabbing onto the throw pillows, my whole body just fucking screaming for his cock to spear me through and through, cunt spasming and tightening around nothing.
“Yes! Yes, please!” I cried and he finally slid inside in one slow thrust. I moaned with relief and sagged into the couch a little, finally getting what I’ve been wanting this whole time. Wooyoung groaned behind me and his hands dug into the skin of my hips, pushing us impossibly together. The feeling of fullness satisfied something wild and primal in me and I found myself struggling to close my mouth, too blissed out to do anything.
He stilled for a moment to get us both accustomed to the feeling, but clearly both of us were too horny to wait even a little longer, because the second I pushed my hips back into him, he started slowly grinding in small circles and it wasn’t long before it shifted into shallow thrusts punching out little gasps out of me.
I only had to whine out “please!” once to get Wooyoung to speed up and pound into me in a much faster pace, to both of our reliefs. Woo’s cool had quickly melted away into a desperate quick pace that had tiny whiny moans spilling out of him. I wasn’t fairing much better, the slide of his cock along my walls from this angle was absolutely heavenly and within few moments had me absolutely losing my already frayed mind. With my head turned away from the cushions I found myself unable to close my mouth, moans freely slipping out and bouncing off of the walls of the living room. Embarrassingly enough I could feel a string of drool coming out of the corner of my mouth onto the couch, but I couldn’t force myself to care when Wooyoung was fucking me so good.
It quickly became obvious we were both too horny and turned on to keep any kind of decorum, so we descended into a messy filthy fucking, Woo eventually bending over me and plastering his chest to my back, mouthing and biting at my neck in between grunts and groans. Just thinking about how deliciously I was filled with his cock had me moaning loudly, Wooyoung chuckling as if he wasn’t the same, losing his mind over the tight wet heat enveloping him in a torturous hug.
I found myself quickly spiralling, the molten pleasure pumping through my body at an alarming speed. I reached back and pulled at Wooyoung’s hips, forcing him to shift his leg a little closer and putting his hips a little higher over mine, giving him perfect access to that one spot deep inside of me with every thrust. I lost all control over my body then, taken over by the all-consuming pleasure, the moans coming out higher and louder with every thrust.
“God- ah aah-“ I panted out, hands digging into the pillows looking for any kind of purchase to withstand the onslaught of sensations, “I- I’m cumming so-soon.” Wooyoung giggled breathlessly into my shoulder and his hips suddenly gained back a little more direction, aiming to hit the spot with every slam into me, slowly speeding up until he was railing me like a madman, the wet squelch of my cunt and slapping of skin on skin accompanying the cacophony of our joined pleasure. I wailed, unable to keep up with the mounting climax, almost screaming on every thrust inlaid with little gasps, groans and cut off gibberish pouring out of my mouth. It felt as if my entire body lit up, the bliss becoming a little too much for me to properly register beyond “Oh god! Oh yes!” ringing through every inch of my very being.
Then Wooyoung’s hand moved to my tit again and squeezed and pinched the pierced nipple few times, even giving it some light slaps. My whole body seized up on a lightning strike of pleasure and the orgasm hit me like an actual truck, getting thrown over the edge so unexpectedly and with such force that I gave one last wheezing cry, mind blanking out and all I could register was the white ecstasy pouring through me, out of me, as if my entire body was made out of it, every nerve screaming with it.
Distantly I registered Wooyoung’s startled cries and moans, his hips jerking against mine quickly and erratically, his hands back on my hips tightening until I could feel his nails biting into my skin and was sure I’d have a nice set of imprints for at least the rest of the day. Then he stilled over me, cock pushed as deep inside as it could go, pulsing and throbbing as the cum poured out in thick spurts. His deep groan of satisfaction reverberated through my whole body since he was still pressed into my back tightly, letting me enjoy the moment with him.
As if invisible strings were cut, we both collapsed into the couch and hazily I realised I only stayed upright because Wooyoung was holding me so he could fuck me harder. After few minutes my mind slowly started coming back, body tiredly catching up, registering the pleasurable ordeal it just went through. I could feel my pussy throbbing, hot and wet from being thoroughly fucked and filled with Woo’s release, my hips hurting from the pounding. I was almost expecting to see bruises all over me.
For a few moments only laboured breathing was heard through the room as we both recovered, the haze gradually lifting, allowing us to come to terms with what had just happened between us. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel awkward at all. It may have been because I was still lying boneless, unable to speak from the force of the orgasm with Wooyoung’s softening cock still wedged deep inside of my pussy, but I found myself quite comfortable squished into the couch, feeling his shallow breaths in the crook of my neck and his thumping heart against my back. I wondered if he could feel mine, as it was beating just as wildly.
But the comfy silence was broken by the man himself, when he whistled and said: “Wow, I had no idea you could do that.” There was a little teasing undertone to his statement, but mostly I could detect only giddy wonder and pride.
“Do what?” my words still a little slurred, because I was still recovering the functions of my brain and fighting sleep, so deeply sated I could barely hold a full thought.
“Squirt,” Woo stated matter-of-factly, his hands beginning to gently caress my sides to help me come down. “Huh?” I said eloquently and turned to look at him. He just gave me a soft grin, eyes squinting in joy as he took in my state. “I did what?” the question was more rhetorical and I wasn’t even really talking to Wooyoung, rather I started to squirm trying to look down as if my pussy held the answer. And in some way it did. When I managed to lift up my hips a little, my whole body protesting and Wooyoung behind me grunting at the jostling of his soft cock, hands digging into my hips to try and hold me still, I saw that the couch beneath us was absolutely soaked. Slight panic seized me, I didn’t even know why, it was just a natural reaction of my tired brain to the information that apparently Wooyoung, my best friend, had made me squirt for the first time in my life, all over Seonghwa’s lovely sofa. Well, at least it did explain why the orgasm had been so fucking intense, feeling as if the soul left my body and astral projected into a parallel universe.
The squirming dislodged Wooyoung from me and a splat of his cum joined the already huge stain on the furnishing. Now I winced, realising that there was no way either of us was surviving this. Unceremoniously I plopped back down into the mess and turned to Wooyoung, who was sweaty and rosy-cheeked, watching me with amusement.
“Seonghwa is going to fucking murder us,” I muttered tiredly, already back to fighting sleep off now that I was lying again. I let my eyes fall shut and only heard Wooyoung’s answering laugh, only felt him get up from the couch and gently roll me over on my back. There was shuffling, rustling of clothes and footsteps around the living room, but I couldn’t find the strength to look at what was Woo doing, letting myself drift on the high and the aftershocks that were still coursing through me.
Wooyoung was humming somewhere in the apartment and then there was a gentle touch on my hip. I whined but let him do what he needed. A warm wet towel was pressed onto my stomach lightly in lieu of warning and I slowly opened my legs again, feeling the strain and the burn that just hurt so good. Woo tenderly cleaned me up with soft unhurried strokes, then helped me sit up against the pillows to try and put some clothes back on me.
I blearily opened my eyes and blinked at him. Wooyoung was kneeling on the floor in front of me wearing only his sweats and holding his black tee. When he saw I was back in the land of living, he slowly pulled it over my head and helped my arms into the sleeves. I was feeling all warm and fuzzy from his sudden softness, thoroughly enjoying this after-care, suddenly found myself overtaken by the violent need to cuddle and sleep it off, so I was just about to suggest that, when he suddenly sprung to his feet and pulled me up with him. I let myself be man-handled with only a slight surprised yelp, but suddenly standing I realised my legs still weren’t in working order, if my shaking buckling knees were anything to go by, so I just grabbed onto his shoulders and hoped he wouldn’t let me fall.
He didn’t. Another nicely warm towel was now wiping my butt of anything I had been sitting in, his hand gently patting it before putting me back onto the couch in the area that was dry.
I wanted to sleep, but I was too amused by the picture of Wooyoung standing in front of the huge wet stain with a deep thinking expression on his face, wracking his brain for anything to do about it. When a giggle escaped me, suddenly his eyes were on me with a mischievous glint.
“You made the mess and now you laugh at me when I’m trying to save our lives?” he asked jokingly, amusement lacing his tone. I giggled again and curled around one of the pillows, fully committed to watching the comedy unfold. Wooyoung just sighed and looked at the couch as if it murdered his first-born.
“I gotta come up with something before-“ his voice was cut off by the door suddenly opening and a commotion coming in. There were three voices happily chattering something and I could recognise the guys from that. With terror I met Wooyoung’s eyes the moment we registered Seonghwa as one of the voices. Before any of us could even move a muscle, the three men walked into the room and promptly froze in their tracks.
“Holy shit!” It was San who shouted that, but we were focused on the cacophony of emotion going through Seonghwa’s face seconds before he cried out “MY COUCH!!” on the top of his lungs. There was genuine anguish and betrayal in his voice before his eyes redirected from the stain to us with pure fury.
“Okay! Time to take a shower!” Wooyoung shouted and pulled me up, but ended up supporting my entire body when my knees buckled and I was balancing on shaking legs like a new-born fawn. From this angle I could see the pure amusement and approval on San’s face right next to the disgusted traumatised Yeosang. I blushed furiously and let Wooyoung drag me off to a bathroom, where he sat me gently on the toilet.
“I’m going back out,” he whispered with determination as if he was about to walk into a battlefield, leaving his wounded comrade in the safety, knowing there was only death outside. I snickered at him and he theatrically waved at me from the door, before walking out and shutting it behind him.
I could still fairly clearly hear everything go down though, especially when only moments later Yeosang popped in to give me my clothes and stuff I left on the table and didn’t close the door fully after him. My phone was vibrating like crazy, which could only mean San was already blessing the group chat with all the piping hot tea. I unlocked it and clicked on the notifs.
Mountain man: lolol woo and y/n fucked on the couch and completely ruined it
Princess: ew fuck you wooyoung
Muscle baby: i’ll never fucking use the living room again
Brat: 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️
The situation unfolding in chat was interrupted by the scene that was going on in the living room in the real time.
“Calm down, I’ll think of something,” Wooyoung’s voice carried through, trying to console Hwa only to be followed by another shriek of “BUT MY COUCH!!”.
“Wow Wooyoung, I really thought better of you,” Sannie teased, adding oil to fire and I could clearly hear his laughs. No signs of Yeosang, but he was probably just standing there watching it all go down.
“I spent months picking it out!” the level of hysteria was steadily rising in Hwa’s voice and I really slowly started fearing for Woo’s life. “I’m gonna have it dry cleaned or something,” the said man offered only to be met with more shrieking.
“You better fucking throw that thing out, there’s no way I’m sitting on it after this,” San added very unhelpfully to the conversation, “especially since I saw the state of it.” There was a beat of silence during which I imagined Wooyoung was throwing daggers at San with his gaze for stirring more shit into it.
“I’ll buy a new one,” was his final plea and while it was met with some more grumbling and fake-crying, I could hear the situation calming down.
Captain: what the fuck is happening there when i’m not home
Mountain man: fornication
Demon angel: disgusting
M o t h e r: MY COUCH
M o t h e r: my amazing couch in the perfect shade of blue that i was looking for
M o t h e r: DEAD AND DEFILED
Puppy: i’ll help you look for a new one, hyung
Mountain man: wooyoung already agreed to buy a new one since he was the cause of the *suspiciously* large stain
Captain: no details
Captain: never any details
Captain: first rule of fight club
xoxo from hell: 🤔🤔
xoxo from hell: i think
Princess: oooh she breaks her silence
xoxo from hell: that a certain man here in this chat should rather shut up considering last week i walked in on him fucking a girl on the kitchen table
Brat: oop-
Mountain man: Y/N
Mountain man: NO
Demon angel: 🤮
Muscle baby: RIGHT WHERE WE EAT???!!!
Puppy: eat pussy apparently
Princess: nice
Captain: don’t encourage him
“MY KITCHEN TABLE?!” Seonghwa’s scream sounded through the flat just as Wooyoung slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him with a wide grin. Distantly I could hear San’s pleading and general chaos as Hwa no doubt started raining fury upon him.
“Nice save,” Wooyoung smirked at me and started ridding us of clothes so we could finally take the shower we both desperately needed. The feeling of the hot water hitting my spent and pleasantly aching body relaxed me and I sighed with content. I was basically ready to melt into a puddle right there, sleep slowly rearing its head back up, so I just went with the motion and let Woo soap us both up and rinse us, I let him dry me and put a fresh tee on me that I didn’t even notice he brought with him. I was just watching him with eyes half closed and a doped out smile on my face.
“You’re so cute like this,” Woo muttered as he led me through the hall to his room, amusement and fondness filling his voice with uncharacteristic gentle sweetness. Upon entering his room I immediately beelined for the bed and burrowed myself between the blankets and pillows. Woo rummaged around in his closet for a moment, but it was the only sound I could hear as the apartment suddenly fell almost eerily quiet.
“If I’m so cute now,” I finally mumbled out from underneath the cozy pile, “maybe you should fuck me more often then.” That had Wooyoung turning around to face me with a mischievous grin. “I fully intend to do that,” he said devilishly and jumped in with me. It took a bit of shuffling to get into a comfortable spooning position, but we were no strangers to cuddling each other, so it went rather smoothly.
Just as the sleep was claiming me and I felt myself getting pulled under, Woo suddenly perked up and said: “You don’t think the silence means hyung murdered San and now Yeosang’s helping him get rid of the body, right?” I snickered gently, but just swatted at him to lay back down.
“Well, he probably deserved it,” Woo muttered and snuggled in closer to me, letting the exhaustion finally lull us to sleep. And it was the most comfortable sleep I’ve had in a while, even if San potentially paid for it with his life.
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Divider from the amazing @saradika-graphics 💜
A/N: hope you enjoyed yourself, don't be shy I'm always open to comments and asks!!
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overtail · 1 month
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ATLA Headcannons - Dating Them ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
These are all MY headcannons, and you dont have to agree on them :3
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Aang ༄
-since you two are so young, it tends to be awkward at first
-hes very touchy, but he'll try his best not to show it
-he'd love to hug you by wrapping his arms around you waist and bringing you tight. the feeling of your cheek against his chest makes his stomach flutter
-if you're a non-bender, he'll be very protective towards you. if you were ever taken or lost, he'd behave just like when appa was stolen by the sand benders
-he spends most of his free time daydreaming about you
-'you've got, nice, uh, ears?'
-horrible at compliments
-you hear whenever he asks Sokka for crappy advice
-absolutely adores when your hair is down (fem)
-when it comes to liking guys, he prefers longer hair (masc)
-blushes when you ruffle his grown out hair
-he'll take you on rides on appa when you're feeling down
-'i'd love to try, but there's meat in the stew..'
-if you were a bender, he'd always be begging you to teach him moves and tactics even if you didnt know how to be an instructor
-loves skin to skin contact, and will press his bare chest against your back when sleeping
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Sokka 𖦹
-the BIGGEST nagger
-can't ever stop moving while sitting around the fire
-won't keep his lips off yours when you're alone
-will fall head over heels for an angsty teen boy (masc)
-especially mean to you when he likes you, and teases you while dating
-thinks your aggression is hot
-very protective of you, even if you're strong/a warrior
-'shit- i mean uhm.."
-cussing problem
-both of you guys are stupid together, so when you were thirsty and dehydrated in the desert, you both got high on cactus juice
-'heh.. you see that flying shark cat?'
-loves seeing you embrace your feminine side (fem)
-love language is cooking for you, even if he sucks
-crappy pick up lines work but just because you think his attempt is cute
-'did i hurt when you fell from heaven?'
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Zuko ☄
-not very open about his emotions in the beginning
-when he gets comfortable with you, he'll sometimes cry in your arms at night
-arm across your shoulders or around your waist CONSTANTLY.
-and when i mean constantly, i mean constantly.
-when hes fire lord, he'll have a designated room for whatever hobby you're passionate about
-'the greenhouse is just outside-' 'A GREENHOUSE?!'
-thinks stretch marks are the most beautiful thing
-can stare at your face for hours on end because hes so lost in your eyes
-loves doodling you in his notebooks
-if hes in an angry mood, he'll always have a soft spot for you
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Katara ≈
-jealous jealous jealous girl
-love splashing you with water just to bother you
-runs her fingers through your hair at night to calm both of you down
-embarrassed when you catch her singing
-she hates it when you leave a mess
-super cuddly when tired
-loves stupid nicknames
-'whatever you say, princess.' 'what did you just call me?'
-loves telling stories you've heard 1000 times over and over again
-SUPER big hugger
-will elbow you when she can sense you're annoying someone
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Toph ᨒ
-will always find a way to wind in an argument
-constantly using being blind as an excuse
-'i can't clean up the mess if i CAN'T SEE IT.'
-super giggly when you tell jokes, but only when its you
-jumps around with joy when she hears that you're gonna be joining the gaang on a mission
-hates when you hold her in your arms because she can't feel the floor
-women with deep voices make her weak in the knees (fem)
-unsurprisingly, fighting is one of her love languages -- she likes competing with her favorite people
-loves when you tell a story in detail, especially the juicy ones
-holds your hand whenever walking somewhere
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Suki ❀
-loves spending time outdoors (picnic dates, walks, exploring)
-she loves putting you in makeup because you look ridiculous (masc)
-very inexperienced when it comes to romance
-'why are you kissing my neck? That's not where my lips are..'
-loses things CONSTANTLY and always makes you help her look for it
-loves dancing with you
-pathological liar, but only when it comes to stories
-'one time, i saw the unaki eat a child.'
-listening to rain and cuddling in front of a window makes her feel so happy
-loves taking care of children with you, and looks forward to having kids
-loves your corny jokes
...
BONUS!!
Sexuality headcannons..
Aang: unlabeled
he just sorta loves who he loves
Sokka: Bisexual with a preference for women
Says hes a ladies man, but will fall for a boy from time to time (*cough cough* zukka)
Zuko: Gay
Im sorry ladies but just LOOK AT HIM.
Katara: Pansexual
I love kataang with my whole heart so i couldn't really see her with anyone else, but if Aang wasn't in the picture she'd date a few girls
Toph: Lesbian
like cmonnnnn
Suki: Straight
im sorry but im a sucker for strong straight females
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nathaslosthershit · 20 days
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Everyone's Favorite Uncle (TD!OP81)
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(Part 6 of Teen Dad [Can be read on its own]) Summary: The 1st time Logan met the Piastri twins and the 3 other times he cemented himself as the favorite honorary uncle. Warnings: Mentions of the 'Tensions Rise' fight. But mostly a whole lot of fluff
1. First Meeting
At 3 months old, the twins hadn’t met anyone who wasn’t family, their parents being extra cautious about bringing them around new people. As expected, these first 3 months as parents had been far from easy for 19 year old Oscar and 18 year old Honey. Especially now that Frances, their daughter, had started teething earlier than usual. Being as it was a painful experience for the newborn, Frances had been non stop crying, causing her brother, Hudson, to cry in return. After days of minimal sleep, the house was a mess and so was everyone in it.
After weeks of asking, Oscar had finally let Logan come over to see the twins. Had he known what the state of his home would be at the time, he probably would have pushed back the visit even more, but Logan refused to let Oscar cancel for something as trivial as a messy house. But he was unprepared for just how messy the home he was entering was going to be.
Fortunately, when Logan had arrived, all seemed well in the house. The twins were awake and not crying, and Honey had gotten a quick power nap in while Oscar tried to clean up the living room. Logan had noticed the lack of energy his long time friend seemed to have when he entered but he had brushed it off as the first few months of fatherhood having drained his energy. They talked for a bit while Honey fed the kids in the other room, all seemed well until…
“Oscar, she is crying again and I just fed and changed her. She isn’t due for a nap either. God, I think it's her teeth again. Can you go get the teething ring? I think it's in the fridge.” Honey asked as she barged into the room, clearly stressed.
Oscar immediately got up to check the fridge while Honey offered a quick hello to Logan. After a few minutes of silence and Oscar making loud banging noises that only made Frances cry harder, he came back in, empty handed.
“It's not there, love. Could you have placed it somewhere else?” He asked, starting to panic as Frances’ cries got louder.
Logan felt awful watching this go down. He knew it wasn’t his fault but guilt ate away at him while he stood there, not knowing what to do.
“Crap, I don’t think I washed it. It may be next to the sink? I'll go wash it while you get the soothing gel. Um… Logan, can you hold her?” Even though Honey had phrased it like a question, Logan realized it was not as she shoved the baby in his hands. Thankfully he had held babies before so he wasn’t so helpless, but this pressure to not hurt the screaming child did make him shake a little.
Sitting down on the couch, he readjusted the baby in his arms, starting to sway her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He watched as his two friends hurried off while he noticed Frances starting to quiet down. Minutes later when both parents barged in, they witnessed magic. Their previously fussy daughter was now cooing and giggling while in the arms of their long time friend. 
“How?” Honey asked, too shocked to get out a full sentence.
“I-I don’t know she just stopped crying and started staring at me.” Logan replied with the same amount of shock in his voice.
“You are a miracle worker.” Oscar said. At this, Logan looked up at the two teen parents, taking in their disheveled states. He would have laughed if it wasn’t so sad. 
An idea came to his head.
“You two go clean yourselves and rest a little, I’ll watch her. Maybe bring Hudson in so I can meet him as well.” Logan demanded. He wouldn’t have used such a commanding tone if he didn’t think they would fight him on this. As much as they needed the extra time to themselves, they were far too humble, maybe even stupid, to ask for help.
With a few quick ‘are you sure' and ‘you are a lifesaver’, the two parents slowly backed out of the room after bringing their son in.
They got two hours to shower and nap before it was time to take their kids back from Logan. 
The twins might have been too young to realize it at the time, but this was the moment he became everyone’s favorite uncle, especially Honey and Oscar’s.
2. First words
Ever since Logan had met the twins a year ago, he had frequented the Piastri household to see the family. It was Valentine's day and Logan, having no plans or someone to spend it with, had stepped up to offer to babysit so the two parents could get a break. While he was happy to watch the kids, he also had ulterior motives for visiting.
For the past few months, ever since the twins turned 1, Oscar had been stressing about how long it was taking them to say their first words. Honey was less stressed than her boyfriend, as she knew she took much longer than most kids to say her first words and ended up fine, but it was getting to the point where she started to get a little cautious. What they didn’t know was that for the past few months Logan had been trying to throw his name into the mix. While Oscar tried to sound out the word “Dada'', and Honey pushed “Mama”, Logan had secretly been trying to get them to saw “LoLo”. He had gotten a ‘Lo’ from Hudson so far but he still wasn’t satisfied. 
“Don’t worry, I have done this so many times already. Go out and have a reasonable amount of fun, two kids is enough for you both for now.” Logan joked as he started pushing Honey and Oscar out of their own house. He didn’t feel the need to sit through a 45 minute lecture he had been given far too many times already. 
Once they had left, Logan began his master plan. While he changed, fed, changed again, washed, and played with the twins, he kept repeating “LoLo” hoping they would finally bite and say it. Sadly though, there was nothing but the usual gibberish from the two.
He felt defeated as he opened the door to Oscar and Honey, who had clearly had a fun night as they came stumbling in. The kids were still up as they had napped late and Honey wanted to put them to bed once she got home.
“Thank you SO much Logan. You are a gift from God as usual.” Honey slurred as she went to change, leaving Oscar and Logan alone to talk.
As Logan packed up to head to his apartment, Oscar said hello to his kids. Just as he walked out the door, Logan heard a very clear and very distinct “LoLo” from behind him. As he turned around, he was met with Hudson reaching out to him and a completely stunned Oscar holding the one year old. 
Realizing he had been caught, Logan entered fight or flight mod.
“Logan, what have you done?” Oscar asked in a stern tone.
“Nothing”
“Logan, talk.” Oscar had really mastered the Dad voice, he realized. Logan was a 20 year old man, he didn’t need to explain shit, but he still crumpled as Oscar looked at him.
“For the past few months I have been trying to teach your children to say “LoLo”. They hadn’t said it yet, I swear, this was the first time.” He rambled as if he was a kid that had been found with his hand in the cookie jar.
Oscar mentally facepalmed at the confession. 
“Alright. Fine. I am mad but I will be even more upset if Honey finds out. Under no circumstances can she know that you did this, or that your name was her son’s first word. Got it?”
Without saying a word, Logan saluted the Australian in front of him and quickly left the household, shaking off the fear Oscar instilled in him but also thrilled he had been Hudson’s first word. 
3. Logan saves the day
Hudson and Frances had been sick for the past week due to a virus they had caught at a playdate. Sadly, as the three year olds got better, their parents got worse.
As Oscar and Honey tried to push through the day, they became miserable due to the fact they couldn’t shake this virus off and that it was a beautiful day out that their kids had to miss out on because their parents were stuck inside. But after both twins gave their best puppy dog eyes to their father, pleading to go out, Oscar had no choice but to call in reinforcements. 
45 minutes later, Logan had both twins in the backseat of his car as he drove to the nearest ice cream parlor.  
Two hours, some big scoops of ice cream, and one park visit later, Logan carried two sleeping toddlers in his arms as he reentered the Piastri home.
4. Distractions
(This takes place during Tensions Rise so if you haven’t read it yet, I would advise you do so)
Wanting to give Honey a moment to collect herself, Logan walked the twins to his driver’s room where he had a very comfortable couch he knew they would fall asleep fast on. He gave them water and tucked them under some extra blankets he had and right before he got up to leave he heard Frances speak up.
“Lolo, does daddy not love us?” the three year old girl asked.
“Franny, why would you think that? Of course he does.” Logan did not feel equipped to have this conversation and started to panic, wondering if he should call for Honey. 
But he knew she needed a bit of space.
“He didn’t have breakfast with us when he said he would and he made mommy cry outside when he didn’t come.” Hudson answered for his sister. 
Logan took a deep breath as he tried to come up with some kind of answer.
“Me and Osc- your dad’s jobs are hard and take up a lot of time. Sometimes things happen and plans change, but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less. Everytime he is traveling for work, he is always showing me pictures of you guys and telling stories. That is all he talks about!” Logan said, putting smiles on the two twin’s faces. “You know, when he and your mom found out they were having twins, I was one of the first people he told. We were teammates and he had such a big smile on his face during a team meeting that I forced him to tell me. Ever since then I knew he loved you both so much. Even if he hasn’t been around too much, I have no doubt he adores the two of you.”
With that, he gave the two kids a kiss on the forehead as he walked out of the room, hoping to cheer up their mother as much as he had helped them.
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dilatorywriting · 1 year
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Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons
Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.0k
Summary: In which your friends are idiots who think gallivanting around a haunted castle surrounded by lava is a great idea. And then there's a dragon.
ie. Or, I watched Shrek this afternoon and could not stop thinking about the memes of the Prefect being Donkey and Malleus as the Dragon.
[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]
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‘Treasure beyond your wildest dreams!’ Ace said.
‘Knowledge long since lost to time!’ Deuce corrected.
‘Yeah, okay, but what is it,’ you asked.
And neither of them had an answer.
Abandoned castles suspended over a sea of bubbling lava were not your preferred holiday destination. You’d told Ace this several times. You’d begged, pleaded, to please just be normal for once. But noooo. Both the snarky, ginger, bastard and the other half of his singular brain cell had apparently decided that suicide ala boiling rocks sounded like a perfectly lovely plan for your Saturday evening.
“I’m just saying,” you huffed as the rope bridge swung worryingly beneath your feet, “taverns are a thing. Faires. Market runs. Casual side quests that won’t wind up with us being flambeed alive.”
“But there’s treasure!” Ace complained, the muddled light off the lava below illuminating his pout in a way that made it look especially punchable. “I heard there’s this really awesome magical sword! Or maybe it was a shield or something—”
“Or something,” you grit out. “What if it’s a book, huh? You can’t even read.”
“We can try!” Deuce returned, a spark of that familiar determination zipping through his blue eyes.
“Or we can sell it,” Ace said, which was certainly the more likely option of the two.
One of the rickety, wooden, slats cracked beneath the low heel of your boot and tumbled down into the lava below. Maybe it hit the gurgling pool of death with a hiss, or a whump, or some other cool sound. But all you could hear was the ringing in your ears.
“Oh my god. I’m going to die.”
“I mean, maybe,” Ace shrugged. “But at least you’ll have a cool new sword propped up at your grave or something.”
You managed to make it all the way to the other side of the horrible death bridge without plummeting to your doom. Except now you were standing at the foot an equally horrifying castle. It was massive—grand on a scale that seemed entirely impossible for something constructed in the heart of a volcano. Its dozens of ebony spires clawed at the sky. The walls crawled with grey ivy and thickets of thorns so dense that you couldn’t see even the barest hint of brick beneath. It looked evil in the way that cursed tombs felt evil—eternal, and still, and oppressive. Like a creature in its own right rather than just an agglomeration of black stone.
Ace drew his sword and Deuce readied his axe. You sighed and plucked at the strings of your stupid fucking lute, and wished once more that you’d had the foresight all those moons ago to take the cushy internship position Lord Crewel had tried to offer you. But, no. You’d wanted to be an adventurer.
The massive double doors of the entrance swung open with an eerie groan. A pair of stern looking gargoyles stood guard as the three of you cautiously made your way into the castle. You swore you could feel their eyes following you—that you’d seen them flex jagged claws into their stone perches in an aborted attempt to dive after you.
The inside of the looming fortress was no more welcoming than out. Dark, emerald, stained glass windows lined the walls—smothering any of the warmer light from the volcano and tinting the entire hall a sickly green-grey. The stone floors and walls were elaborately carved with the faded stories of dynasties long since passed, but what had once surely been immaculate craftsmanship had shifted and cracked with age—crushing floors into tight slopes and littering already narrow walkways with heavy debris.
“We just have to find the tallest tower,” Ace hummed, swiping at a few dangling trails of thorns with the blunted edge of his blade. “And then the highest room in that.”
“The treasure is never in the highest room in the tallest tower,” you complained. “You just heard that in a drinking song once.”
“Is that true?” Deuce frowned, looking terribly betrayed.
“No way!” Ace snipped. “I told you! An old crone read my fortune in her bone dice, and she said to always check the highest room in the tallest tower! Because that’s where I’d find my greatest treasure!”
“Maybe the greatest treasure is the friends we’ve made along the way?” Deuce suggested helpfully.
“No.”
So you split off from a grouchy Ace and dejected Deuce to try and find some stairs. Every room in this stupid castle was swimming in so many shadows that you could hardly tell right from left, let alone if there were any kinds of secret doors or passageways that may lead to an equally secret tower. The chamber you’d found yourself in now was gigantic, and each tentative step you took echoed discordantly through the ashy gloom. You kicked miserably at a loose rock and it skittered off into the darkness with a dull thunk. And then something… odd, began to happen. That darkness began to move—to rise and unfurl like a great set of wings on a beast. And—oh. Oh no.
“Would you look at that,” Ace whistled under his breath, neck craned all the way back as he squinted at what was most definitely the tallest of all the towers this creepy castle had to offer. “Guess what, nonbelievers. I found the—”
“DRAGON!”
Whoosh went the great swathe of emerald fire as it exploded down the barren hallway and nipped at your heels. You dove out into the open courtyard just in time to avoid being roasted alive, and the gargantuan monster behind you let out a roar fit to shake the earth. A quick tuck-and-roll left you crouched behind a fallen pillar, and the dragon’s bright, green, glower turned on you and your garbage hiding spot with a rumbling snarl. Its rows of sharp, white, teeth closing just above your head—missing its mark by barely a hair’s width.
“Gotcha!” Deuce snarled, his armored fists dragging the dragon away by its tail. Or, well, tried to. Because the dragon was a hundred feet long at least, and your blue haired friend probably looked like nothing more than a pesky rat darting between its feet. It turned and snapped at him irritably, taking a great, big, step forward in a bid to get a firmer stance to attack. You threw yourself in the other direction to avoid being trampled.
“Go!” Ace called, charging in from the other side. “Quick!”
Because at the end of the day, they were still both your brave, tanky, warrior, friends. And you were just a very, very, squishy bard who really would not fare well against a particularly motivated goose, let alone a dragon. So you skidded through the rubble and onto your feet, and started to sprint back into the castle’s halls—hoping maybe you’d be able to find a bit more cover.
There was a great clatter, and both Ace and Deuce yelped. You looked back hurriedly to see the pair of them clutching onto the dragon’s tail for dear life as it whipped them back and forth through the ash and debris cluttering the ground. With one, final, great, sweep, the dragon pitched them into the air and sent them careening through the roof of that ‘tallest tower.’ You muttered a hasty incantation and the sparkling outlines of soft feathers danced along your fingers. You hoped you weren’t too far. You were probably too goddamn far. But you hummed frantically under your breath nonetheless and entreated your middling magic to give them a soft landing.
And then there was another wave of green hellfire raining down over your head and you turned and ran.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—
Even if you’d been a champion sprinter, there was little good it would have done you against a beast whose stride was longer than you were tall. You made it back into some hall or other, and into another cavernous room, and then you were pinned into a corner—the dragon looming over you like a vengeful wraith come to take its due.
It was gigantic. Probably the biggest creature you’d ever seen. And it was sleek—all lithe muscle and glossy rows of black scales that glittered oddly in the dull, grey, light. Its wings spread wide behind it, spanning the entirety of the vast chamber. They looked like the sort of wings that could stir up a hurricane. The curling horns atop its head seemed sharp enough to gore a man or twenty, and the purple crests lining its skull were tapered down flat in a way that reminded you a bit deliriously of a pissy cat pinning its ears back before it swatted at you.
Its lips curled back over pointed canines as it snarled at you, and you were showered in a swathe of hot sparks.
“Oh, what large teeth you have,” you squeaked, and when the dragon dipped closer to bellow into your face, your reeled back with a splutter. “I—I mean white, sparkling, teeth!” you rattled, nearly incoherent. The dragon’s snout twitched away, almost like you’d startled it. “I mean, I’m sure you hear this all the time from your food, but—wow! Just! Very lovely! Definitely the prettiest smile I’ll ever be eaten by!”
Slowly it lowered its great head, and you could see the neon glare from its narrowed eyes.
“Not that you have to eat me,” you added hurriedly, hoping to whatever Gods could hear you that your smart mouth could finally be useful for more than just talking circles around assholes in bars or weaseling your friends out of shitty contracts. “I’d very much like not to be eaten. But all the same, we did intrude in your home—and it’s definitely a very nice home—so I’d totally get it. And I guess if I did have to die today, knowing that my life would be in the hands of something so magnificent is certainly reassuring.”
The dragon seemed to preen a bit at that. You could see the sharp crests beneath its horns soften as tension bled from the beast’s posture. It ducked in close again, and this time you felt a sharp pull of air rush past your cheeks as it sniffed you. Its nostrils were the size your head—bigger even, maybe. You didn’t want to think about it, but the dry heat of its breath puffing into your face made the entire thing a bit hard to ignore.  
“Did I mention what a charming home you have?” you rambled on. “Very aesthetic. The gargoyles at the gate were a lovely touch.”
The dragon made a low, warbling, noise in its throat that wasn’t quite a growl, but wasn’t particularly… reassuring, either. It made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.
It ducked away—not far, just enough to reach one of the large, carved, walls at the outskirts of the room. Its long neck slithered out before pausing pointedly over an archway. It took you a long moment to realize it was gesturing to something. Another gargoyle from the looks of things—this one almost entirely crumbled away under the strains of time. You could just barely make out the shape of its square jaw and taloned fingers.
You nodded so hard you nearly gave yourself whiplash.
“Yes! I see! Very beautiful! Such fine craftsmanship!”
The dragon cooed at you. Swear on your life and all the money in your back packet. An actual, honest to God, coo. Fuck, maybe you’d managed to charm your way out of imminent dismemberment and death after all.
It ambled closer once again, a curiosity lighting its eyes and warming those neon irises into something that was less poisonous-hell-fire and more mellow-evening-in-the-forest.
Amidst all the rippling waves of ebony scales, your eyes caught on the smallest smear of crimson. Just a touch of red—right along the spikes of its tail. Carefully, cautiously, slower than molasses, you stepped forward with your hands raised. You whispered a handful of familiar words under your breath and your palms glowed fuzzy and blue. Dragons were supposed to be inherently magical, right? So this one would certainly understand that the string of syllables you’d babbled out were good, and helpful, and not at all a provocation. The dragon was looking down at you with lidded eyes, its gaze a bit unfocused. You gulped.
“I’m sorry my friends messed with your tail,” you apologized, gingerly holding your fingers out to hover over the abrasions without actually touching. “They were just trying to protect me. If—if that makes it any better.” The minuscule wound began to knit itself back together neatly beneath the pulses of your magic. “I do tend to need a lot of protecting—I’m not much a warrior, if that wasn’t completely obvious by the everything about me—so I can’t really blame them for being a bit gung-ho about it.”
After a moment or two, the scratches had faded back into solid, matte, black and you drew back with a content hum.
“There! All fixed!” You gave your most winning smile. Please don’t eat me, your brain chanted on endless repeat. Please don’t eat me please don’t eat me please don’t eat me—
The dragon reared back and settled on its haunches with another heavy puff of sweltering breath. You could feel the heat of it prickling all the way up your arms. After a long, long, moment of silent consideration, the dragon leaned forward again and rumbled deep in its chest. When you only stood there, properly petrified, it huffed again and bumped its nose against your sternum, nearly toppling you over.
“I don’t—” you started, nervous. “I’m sorry. I don’t really get what you’re trying to say.”
With another sigh that sounded entirely too put upon, the dragon lowered its great head. The air itself seemed to grow heavy against your shoulders, and you could taste the cloying bitterness of strong magics on the back of your tongue. Black miasma oozed from beneath the dragon’s talons and melted along its scales. The caustic scent of ash and petrichor burned along your nostrils, and you had to pinch your eyes shut and cover your nose to keep from coughing. You managed to sneak a peek past your fingers just in time to watch the shadowed outline of the beast collapse. And out of that puddle of black goo emerged a man­. He was tall and lithe, just as the dragon had been, with glowing green eyes that were terribly familiar. They were framed with thick, dark, lashes and sat perfectly on a face that was nearly too handsome to be human (well, it really wasn’t human you supposed, so that little tidbit probably accounted for said inhuman beauty well enough). Recognizable eyes and stature or no, the curling horns atop his head would have sealed the deal plenty well enough on their own.
He shook off the shadows twining around his ankles with a lazy twist of the hand and then turned to you with a curious little hum.
And holy fuck Mister Dragon apparently had no sense of shame, or maybe just no qualms about social niceties and practicalities, because his human self was wearing about just as many clothes as his lizard form had been.
You squeezed your eyes shut with a squeak, and then double covered them with your hands for good measure.
A chuckle rolled through the air—as dark and pleasantly rich as the finest of chocolates. And then there was a clawed finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back, and back, and back until you were at least half-way sure it would probably be safe to open your eyes again without infringing on his decency.
“You are fascinating, Child of Man,” it—he—hummed, low in his throat. His thumb dragged down to hook beneath the curve of your jaw and support the finger tucked up under your chin. “And it’s been so, very, long since I’ve been fascinated by anything.”
“Uh,” you replied, like a perfectly functional human being.
The dragon’s lips curled up over his pointed teeth—still just as sharp and white as they had been when he’d been so much bigger and scalier.
“I think I’d like to keep you,” he said with a nod to himself, as casually as one may talk about picking up extra groceries from the market.
“Uh,” you said again.
“You did mention that you needed protecting,” he continued, tapping a clawed finger against his own chin. The small smile quirking his lips twisted into something smug. “And that is certainly something at which I would excel.”
Your head was swimming.
“I—I mean. I’m honored that you—that… you—” You couldn’t even think the words, let alone get them past your brain and out of your mouth. You cleared your throat and fought to keep your eyes level with his clavicle and nowhere else. “D-Don’t you think you’re moving a bit fast?” you laughed nervously. “I mean, I’m sure my friends will probably be on their way back down soon—and—I mean, we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. I don’t even know your name.”
He blinked, slow and serpentine.
“Oh. I suppose you wouldn’t.” He canted his head to the side, long strands of that inky black hair of his spilling across his shoulder. An amused sort of grin worked its way along his mouth. “Dragons are not keen to give out our true names so readily, but you seem like a clever one. Tell me—what do you think I’m called then, hmm?”
You glanced up quickly at the horns atop his head and couldn’t help yourself.
“Tsunotarou?”
He let out a bark of laughter that seemed to shake the walls.
“Oh,” he trilled, looking positively delighted. The hand not curled beneath your chin reached down to snag your own, and he brought your wrist up to his lips. You could feel the imprints of his canines against the soft skin there. “I’ll definitely be keeping you.”
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astraystayyh · 9 months
Text
Somebody else
Hyunjin x reader. Exes to lovers. Miscommunication. Hints of past toxic relationships. Flawed characters and happy ending :)
Inspired from Somebody Else by The 1975, highly recommend listening to it while reading!
You and Hyunjin have broken up, guilt and blame simmering between you both. He doesn't care anymore, or so he thought. Then why does it hurt him to see you with someone else?
skz song series masterlist.
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Strobing lights, vibrant streaks of blue and red ricocheting off your skin. Bodies pressed to yours, trying to fray themselves a passage to dance in. Someone bumps onto your shoulder but you don't care enough to even glance at them. Your eyes are fixated on Hyunjin.
You broke up two weeks ago, you don't even remember why. Petty arguments and even pettier reactions from both of you, your egos holding you back from saying what you truly feel. 
You hated arguments, especially with him. Because they reminded you of how much you cared for him, immensely so, how you regarded him as a part of your soul, one you couldn't part with. The mere thought of his departure left you feeling like a seashell washed ashore- hollow and condemned to echo the sounds of the ocean it was forcibly separated from. 
So, in the heat of the moment, you let anger pull you in her fiery hold- she's all encompassing, wrapping around you like a steel shield, making you less vulnerable in Hyunjin’s hands. But she also clouds your senses, and you find yourself uttering stupid nonsense, such as ‘Maybe we should break up’.
You’ve never thought about it, let alone wanted to end things with him. You wanted to take those words back as soon as you said them, to rewind the seconds and erase them from both of your memories. But then Hyunjin agreed, so easily, as if he was eagerly awaiting the bait you just threw at him. 'You know what? Maybe we should' and he left, slamming the door of your apartment. 
You stayed up all night, waiting for him to come back. He knew you didn't mean it, right? Surely, he understood that it was your feeble attempt to guard your wounded heart. It's been stomped on carelessly, thrown around enough that he must know you were just afraid.
But you haven’t seen him since.
And now you're both here, at the party that Changbin organized. He's your mutual friend and he insisted that you'd come as well. "Binnie, I don't want to."
"You both are just idiots who'll get back together. You’re coming," he silenced you, and you sulked in your place. But his words ignited something in you- a childish hope, that maybe he was right and Hyunjin still cared about you.
But all of it was shattered as you set foot inside Changbin’s house. It was easy to find Hyunjin, sitting in the middle of a couch, legs slightly spread apart. He was wearing a white shirt, its top buttons undone. You watched as he easily captured the attention of everyone around him, as they hung into his every word, admiring him. That's the thing with Hyunjin, it's easy to admire him, to crave being near him, because he's enchanting, and his laugh makes you want to make him happy ten times fold.  
You scoff bitterly, as someone places their hand on his arm and he doesn't move them away. He leans onto their touch and a surge of bile rises in your throat. Perhaps this is what you fought about- anger that cowardly hid behind it your insecurity at dating someone so sought after. It was foolish after all, to believe that the sun would get attached to a mere speck of light.
"You're here alone?" a voice interrupts your train of thought, and you turn around to find Chan. You smile at the familiar face, a welcome respite from the dull ache settling in your heart, making itself a home within your veins. 
"Our friends are all over the place," you explain, and he nods in understanding. "Changbin made me come but I don't know where he is," he whines, leaning closer to your ear so you could hear him over the pulsating music. 
"So, we're all here because of Bin?" you giggle and Chan's laugh fills the air, his dimples proudly on display. There was this comforting aura surrounding him, which made it much easier to breathe in his presence. And you needed to feel safe somewhere at this party, where all you saw were glimpses of Hyunjin and the hurt he inflicted on you. 
"Do you want to dance?" you ask, and Chan's grin widens in response, so you grab his forearm leading him to the makeshift dance floor.
Hyunjin silently watches as you and Chan dance with one another. He can’t see you properly, hidden by the swarms of bodies pressed together. But he gets glimpses of you each time someone moves a bit away. You appear to him like a mirage- something he once had and yet so unattainable right now.
I don’t want your body, but I hate to think about you with somebody else
Hyunjin is fine with the fact that you left him, that’s what he tells himself as he downs his drink. He’s used to people leaving after some time when he’s no longer enough. He did think that maybe things with you would be different, that for once, someone would stay. That you would shatter this idea ingrained in his mind- that he’s easily disposable, as someone told him a long time ago.
But you wished to leave him too, and for the first time in his life, Hyunjin wanted to beg someone to stay. He thought of pulling you in for a dizzying kiss, so you’d second-guess your decision, so he’d show you that he’s still good at something. But he swallowed this pathetic want and he left.
He walked slowly, thinking that maybe you’d follow him. You’d shout his name and then he’d turn back and run towards you. He’d throw his pride over his shoulder and he’d apologize.
But you didn’t.
So, he’s okay with it, or at least that’s what he thought. He doesn’t want you anymore. So why does it hurt to watch you with Chan?
Our love has gone cold you’re intertwining your soul with somebody else
An ugly thought rears itself into his brain. You’ve liked Chan long before you broke up with Hyunjin. Maybe the time you've spent with Chan, working on your musical project made your heart gravitate towards him, and you were simply awaiting the right moment to end things with Hyunjin. That’s why you’re smiling so effortlessly at Chan. That’s why he’s spinning you around, and holding your arm to move you away from a drunk couple.
Hyunjin lost you before he realized he lost you. Maybe when he laid next to you in bed you were thinking of Chan. Maybe it was his touch you longed for whenever Hyunjin hugged you. You wouldn’t be the first to do this to him. 
I’m looking through you while you’re looking through your phone and then leaving with somebody else
You’re laughing hard, and your hand is on Chan’s shoulder as he steadies you. But then you look up and your eyes lock with Hyunjin’s. He can only watch as the happiness slowly drains from your face, as you whisper something into Chan’s ear who then leads you outside. 
Hyunjin's heart sinks in his chest- he couldn't recognize you anymore, the affection once present in your eyes diluted to a mere semblance of indifference. And you still looked so beautiful to him, despite it all. He felt as if you were stabbing him with a rusty knife, and yet all he focused on was how soft your hands looked holding the bloody blade. 
Hyunjin gets up to pour himself another drink, shrugging away the hand of the person who was sitting next to him. He doesn’t want you anymore, he doesn't care that you're probably kissing Chan right now. But he secretly hopes that if he drinks enough, the faces all around him will blur until all he sees again is you.
No don’t want your body but I’m picturing your body with somebody else
"Are you okay?" Chan asks, his voice soft and concerned as you draw in a deep, shuddering breath. It feels as if there was no room in your heart anymore for oxygen, the ache for Hyunjin taking it all up.
"Is it bad that I miss him so much?" you ask, your voice sounding frail to your ears. 
"He misses you too. You know that, right?"
"He left, so easily. I don't think he does after all," you smile sadly. It hurt to utter those words out loud, because it made them feel much more real, intensifying the raw pain within you. 
"I’ve never seen him look so sad before," Chan points out and you know he's just trying to help, but it just further tears you apart. You don't want false hope, you don't want to build yourself a world where Hyunjin still wants you, only for it to be shattered afterward. 
"Can we talk about something else?" you plead and he nods, before sharing with you the ropes of his latest project. He's working on a ballad for once, and you listen attentively, allowing yourself to be absorbed in the intricacies he describes. It provides you a temporary solace, which then makes a frightening thought dawn on you. 
Is this how it will be from now on? Seeking distractions from the people surrounding you, in the hopes it will quest the thirst of the ache threatening to drown you? 
Oh, come on baby, this ain't the last time that I’ll see your face
"Yn!" Hyunjin calls out, breathless, watching you abruptly stop in your tracks. It's foolish and pathetic, but he couldn't resist following you when you bid goodbye to Chan. He was sick of the tumultuous thoughts swirling in his head. He wanted to hear them from you. It'd make accepting them easier.
"Leave me alone," you shout back, walking even faster and away from him.
"Fine, leave again. That's all you fucking do anyways," he yells angrily, frustration seeping into his words. It makes you pause once again, and you suck in a deep breath before marching back to him. 
"What's that supposed to mean?" 
"Chan? Out of all people?" he scoffs, ignoring your question. That's the only thing he kept thinking of. You and Chan, laughing, talking, dancing, the way you used to with him.
And come on baby, you said you found someone to take my place
"Fuck you Hyunjin," you spit out, turning around but he stops you, a hand wrapped around your forearm. Despite the anger cursing through him, his hold on you is still gentle. You can free yourself from him, easily.
"So, it's true, then? You replaced me with him?" Fresh pain swims in his eyes, and he makes no attempt to conceal it anymore. He was tired of pretending he was okay with you leaving.
"What is it to you, huh? You left me," you shout back, jabbing your finger forcefully into his chest. 
"I left? You're the one who said that it'd be better if we broke up!"
"It's not like you disagreed, huh? You probably felt so relieved that I handed you this outing, didn't you Hyunjin?" 
"Don't twist this on me," he says firmly, gripping your finger to halt your repetitive jabs. "Am I that easy to forget? Did I matter this little to you?" He questions, voice cracking with his every word. 
"Let me go," you plead, tears brimming in your waterline. 
"Answer me. That's the least you could do for me. I need to hear it from you." Hyunjin has never been this unguarded with you, searching your eyes with an intensity that shakes you to the core. He's asking and yet it feels as if he's just expecting you to say yes, to reiterate the idea drilled into his mind, to prove everybody right once again. 
"I didn't forget about you, is this what you want to hear?" you whisper, voice laced with excruciating exhaustion. "You're all I thought about for the last two weeks. I heard your voice in my mind more than my own. I even kept your opened drink in my fridge just in case you might come back for it." 
"You're killing me, yn," he shuts his eyes closed forcefully, as if your words physically pained him. "Didn't you tell me that we should break up?" 
"You don't understand," you shake your head, a bitter chuckle leaving you. "Everyone loves you Hyunjin. Everyone would fight to be with you. You must know it, and it's dangerous when someone knows they can easily replace you. I have no one to protect me so I tried to protect myself. I didn't think I’ll survive if you left me too."
"Everyone loves me?" he repeats, as a newfound emotion shines in his eyes. "Are you in this everyone too? Do you love me, yn?" his voice wavers, as the weight of his question hangs in the air. 
You feel as if the world around you stills, holding its breath for your response. You know that any possible future with Hyunjin rests upon the words you'll choose to speak. You already know the answer, even though you decided to not tell him. Out of all the emotions you've ever experienced, love still scares you the most. And you're afraid of what your confession will entail, of tipping the balance towards a crueler reality- one where Hyunjin doesn't return your feelings. 
"Please let me go," you beg, as a singular tear trails out of your eyes. 
"Look at me," he urges, desperation lacing his words. But you shake your head, unable to meet his gaze, afraid that he will peel all your defenses with it. "Baby, look at me," he calls softly, as he gently wipes away your tears. The nickname sounds so familiar coming from his lips, and it further crumbles your shaky resolve.
"Don't call me that if you're leaving, please," you beg and he smiles softly at you, hooking a finger under your shin.
"Can't you see I'm too in love with you to go again?" he whispers, the tenderness in his voice washing over you, casting a flicker of hope into your heart. 
"I'm scared too," he speaks again, placing your hand on top of his widely beating heart. "I'm scared and so tired, yn. Of feeling disposable to everyone around me. When you... When you told me it'd be best if we broke up, it felt worse than anyone leaving me before. Because it was you. And I really wanted you to stay." 
"I didn't mean it, I never thought of it even, I promise you. I'm so sorry." The words tumble from your lips in a rush, an earnest attempt to keep the hope alive, to prevent it from withering down. "Please stay. I love you, I truly do," you plead, no longer caring how vulnerable you sound in that instant. You curl your hand around his, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing them gently. And you feel as if the universe exhales in relief, resuming its usual course. 
"I never wanted to leave either. And when I saw you with Chan I thought I lost you for good," his voice is softer now, as if embarrassed of his own admission. "It hurt, more than I imagined it would." 
You press your forehead against his, closing your eyes to relish in the feeling of being so close to him once again. 
"Really?" you tease gently, a glimmer of a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "You looked perfectly fine to me."
"What do you even know,” he mutters quietly, before pressing his soft lips onto yours.
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