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bits-and-babs · 6 months

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✦ 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 ✦

simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader (delta) | smut, 18+ | 4.1k

summary: you, soap and gaz make a silly bet at ghost's expense for an invaluable prize.

cw: mw3 spoiler free. 141 ridiculousness, humour, attempts to remove the mask resulting in life threatening (not really) injury, mild exhibitionism if you squint, very talkative ghost, 'interrogation' wink wink, unprotected p in v sex, reference to f receiving oral.

ghost mlist | main mlist | taglist

"Y'know, I'm sure as shit that L.t's got brown hair," Soap pipes up in the middle of the silence that had settled inside the safe house.

The members of Task Force 141 glance up one by one, querying eyes cast Soap's way as the guesstimated observation hangs in the air. It's louder than chopper blades, thudding against your skull and roaring in your ears as you attempt to recall the information you have on Ghost, what little physical attributes you can attribute to him. Each time, you hit a brick wall. The only image conjured in your minds-eye is the black voids of the mask's eyes and the piercing amber of his irises.

The wind howls outside, battering the windows with Wyoming snow and creeping in through the cracks in the panes. It makes a yowling sound as it slips through the crevices, carrying your memories of Ghost's appearance with it. He truly was like an apparition, there one moment, then gone altogether.

Gaz's brows crease in the middle, little crevices in the skin showing his mind working over the sentence.

"He doesn't," he eventually retorts, eyebrow cocked while shaking his head, "He's blonde."

"What makes you say that?" Price scoffs at his colleague's certainty, "You ever seen his face?"

The silence that follows makes the Captain chuckle. A wordless 'that's what I thought'.

"You willin' to bet on that?" Soap pushes Gaz with a lopsided smirk. There it is, that ridiculous playfulness that the Scotsman continuously let slip over coms. Simon had once reprimanded him for how it would get him killed– you were almost certain if he continued down this path in particular, he'd be in a box by daylight.

"I am," Gaz counters thoughtlessly, a smug lilt to his tone as he leans the crown of his head back against the rotting wooden wall, "He's got blonde eyelashes. He's gonna have blonde hair."

"What're ya gettin' so close tae him for?" Soap grins wide, loading the new ammunition and hitting a bullseye on the first shot, "You been snoggin' him or somethin'?"

"Lads," Price warns. It's only one word, but it says a lot; 'he'll have your head.' All of you know Simon 'Ghost' Riley well enough to know it's not a joke. Seen enough of the mangled bodies he left behind to know it wouldn't be clean, either. More like he'd hack your skull from your neck, picking out the dullest blade that'd struggle to slot between vertebrae.

"Bets on, then," Soap continues, white teeth gleaming in the low light, "First to confirm gets the honour of shootin' Hassan between the eyes."

It's like throwing a match at a body doused in diesel.

✰

The parameters of this wager are as follows... First: the competition is between you, Soap and Gaz. Price was ruled automatically exempt the moment he admitted he had, indeed, seen Ghost's face. It was a revelation that caused quite a storm- and a promise from Gaz of £100 if he'd tell.

The Captain, quite frankly, told him where to stick it.

Second: None of you could just ask Ghost himself. That was boring; no fun in that.

Thirdly, there are no other rules. Acquire the information by any means necessary to claim victory. Perhaps this rule should have been revised- because to say that 141's tactics for getting Ghost to reveal his face were a little unorthodox is an understatement of the highest order.

Despite his hulking frame, Ghost is like a cunning fox, cognizant of even the slightest changes in energy and hypervigilant of those approaching. The midnight void of his grease paint that frames his eyesockets contrasts the whites of his eyes as they dart back and forth between you all. He appears to have noted the devious scheming, practically hearing the cogs turning in your heads the moment he returned from his watch. Something is amiss, and you know Ghost knows it.

He says nothing.

Day One; the grumpy, black-clad special ops soldier sits back in his seat as he crosses his arms over his vast chest, cautiously observing the minute movements the three of you made. He'd bristled when Gaz stood from the sofa simply to enter another room, poised and ready to pounce at whatever fuckery the younger soldier would attempt.

"Hey, L.t.," Soap's drawl cuts through the humorously tense atmosphere in the room, and you brace yourself for his master plan. "When was the last time ye got a haircut?"

Ghost hesitates. Waits a beat. The silence stretches almost uncomfortably until he answers, thick, bassy voice almost booming in the box room. "What're you playin' at, Johnny?"

Soap shrugs his shoulders, exuding complete nonchalance as he settles into the seat across the table from the hulking mass of man. "Just wondered if the mask ever came off. How do you cut your hair?"

Amusement ripples through you in the sound of a chuckle, both men glancing your way. Ghost peers at you, suspicion pooling thick in his pupils.

"Shave it," Ghost rumbles bluntly, with an air of finality that leaves no room for argument or for Soap to encourage him to try something stupid like curtain bangs or, God forbid, a mohawk.

You can't help but grin from ear to ear as you watch the Scotsman's shoulders slump in defeat, already waving a white flag upon seeing how unwilling Ghost is to play whatever stupid game you're all partaking in. Even you can't deny the anxiety that prickles across your nerve endings when you see the way Ghost's biceps flex beneath the camo fabric of his uniform, primed for action.

When Ghost's aqua irises slide to you, your shoulders shrug comically, putting on the performance of your life to appear as though you had no idea what Johnny was up to. You see the way Ghost's blacked-out eyelids squint in suspicion. He doesn't believe you, but doesn't say as much.

Day Three and the polite, roundabout tactics had been discarded in favour of the nuclear option. Gaz had tried ambushing Ghost in the shower, opening the door without knocking as if pretending he didn't know the Lieutenant was in there. The door slammed so quickly into his head that an egg had been steadily growing on his forehead for the past hour and a half, blood seeping from his almost certainly broken nose.

"You'll stay out next time, Bravo 2-6, if you know what's good for you," Ghost had growled through the crack in the door before shutting it with a click of the lock.

Holding his face and slinking away, mortally wounded, Gaz uttered a humiliated 'Yes, lieutenant'.

Soap, clearly not having learnt from poor Gaz, decided that the next best option was a trip, so to speak. Executing a ludicrously overexaggerated stumble, Johnny reached out to grab Ghost's mask to 'steady himself' and ultimately drag it from his superior's head.

Ghost had leapt from his seat with a roar, threatening to send Sergeant MacTavish back to Scotland in a box with the Saltire draped across the lid. The standoff only settled upon Captain Price's barked orders to stand down or hang up the uniform.

By Day Six, Ghost had bruised your opponent's egos enough that neither Soap nor Gaz dared attempt to peek beneath the mask again. They look at you like you're absolutely bonkers when you finally announce it's your turn to try and tame the beast.

"Yer fuckin' mad, hen," Johnny grumbled, watching you observe Ghost from across the room. He'd settled on a chair in the corner of the room, ensuring no one could sneak up on him. "You can't seriously be plannin' on-"

"I want Hassan," you shrug, a smile playing on your lips. Though, at this rate, you couldn't care less about the terrorist and the honour of dispatching him. No, Ghost had made this ridiculous game far more competitive than needed, and you planned to win.

"Have fun," Gaz scoffed bitterly, still icing the blotchy green and purple bruise that had welted on his forehead as a medal of dis-honour. You hadn't exactly helped the healing process, poking it harshly with the pad of your thumb as you laughed at his mortifying misfortune.

You wait patiently for Ghost to move, like a stake out on a mission. Lying in plain sight in a ghillie suit, a sniper rifle pointed right between his eyes and your finger on a hairpin trigger. You wait for him to break, for exhaustion to creep in. Thankfully, you don't have to wait long. The Lieutenant rises from his chair, announcing to 141 that he's headed to bed.

A quiet mumble of 'goodnight' from each member grants him leave, and Ghost walks out of the room without further word. You waste no time in hurrying to your feet.

"Are you gonna...-" Soap winces when you stand, trailing off when you start after Ghost, not allowing either of your colleagues to talk you out of this suicide mission.

Though, the moment you turn the corner, you wish you had. Ghost's broad frame practically fills the narrow hallway like someone had plucked Everest from Nepal and shoved its hulking mass into a matchbox. He's ginormous, his usually silent footsteps causing the aged, rotting wood beneath the soles of his boots to creak with the weight he applies when he turns to face you.

The dark hallway obscures Ghost's skull-face mask, but a glittering reflection of the golden light bleeding from the bulb in the living room area flickers across the wet surface of his eyes as he observes you. You can't allow the weighty pressure of his stare to phase you if you're to push ahead with your plan- so you step forward, swallowing down the nerves that Ghost's attention inevitably dredges up.

"Lieutenant, sir," you address him smoothly, voice low as you gaze up at him through your lashes. Ghost's eyebrow arches in response, noting your somewhat suggestive behaviour. "Permission to spea-"

"I'm hopin' you'll tell me what you're all up to," his eyes spear your nerve as he interrupts you, "They're not lettin' up, but I'll get it outta you one way or another."

"What... Did you have in mind?" You chance, heart slamming up against your chest when you realise just how obvious you're being. It's dangerous- you hadn't planned to be so forward. The idea that he'd be able to read your flirting so soon set off mortars in your veins.

There's a pause. It dizzies you, throwing your previously sturdy confidence off kilter when Ghost tilts his masked head slightly. He's turning it over in his mind, considering the past few days' events. Then, he turns everything on its side.

"I know what you're doing," he speaks suddenly, the rich baritone of his voice ricocheting off the walls and ringing in your ears like he's just discharged a round of ammo with each syllable. You jerk upright, standing to attention.

"I don't know what you m-"

"You want the mask off," he interrupts you again, cutting your pathetic excuse short as he steps forward. It's ridiculous, the sheer size of him as he looms over you. "You lot made a bet."

Another beat. Ghost waits for a response, an admission of guilt. It feels like he's cornered you; every answer that springs to mind is incriminating. You know he can see your rueful expression, wide-eyed and panicked by the ease with which he puts you on the ropes.

"Was this your plan?" He murmurs, reaching to grasp your chin. His palm settles on the hollow of your jaw, fingers fanning out across the bone. "Get me into bed and see if I'll take it off?"

Trembling in his hold, you whimper as Ghost's thumb stretches across to trace the curve of your lip. It follows the delicate arc, lining the shape of your mouth and trailing the dip of your cupid's bow.

"'M sorry," you mumble weakly, cheeks hot beneath his touch. Again, you fold beneath the intensity of those honeyed irises. It's a miracle your knees don't buckle when he pushes the pad of his thumb just past your lips, so that it brushes the edges of your teeth.

"That was your plan. Y'can still give it a try, love. But..." he hums, his voice throaty and quiet and settling in the pit of your stomach. It's embarrassing, the ease with which he figures you out, but his words drip over you, easy and warm, and all you can focus on is the slip of his thumb as he presses the pad against the flat of your tongue.

"The mask stays on."

Ghost’s insistence makes you giggle sheepishly and your stomach flip in dread, like a child caught with its hand down a bear trap. Despite the lewdness of him pushing his thumb past your lips, you know that he’s being serious, deathly so. You nod clumsily in recognition of his executive order, and Ghost gently taps the skin of your cheek with his free hand, the soft slap of his palm against your flesh standing your hair on end.

“Go.”

The word hangs in the air for a moment, weighing heavily in the claustrophobic space of the small hallway. It takes a moment for your mind, rendered utterly useless by Ghost’s imposing presence, to understand exactly what he’s implying. Only when he removes his thumb from your mouth to shove you forward towards a bedroom door does his intention become clear.

Oh. Oh!

Scrambling to force your feet forward, they practically float across the threshold of the bedroom door. You can feel Ghost looming just behind you, can practically feel the heat radiating from his chest warming the expanse of your back. Fingers clasp over your shoulder, practically swallow the curved flesh, and shove you back against the bedroom wall.

The force of impact winds you, the air expelled from your lungs swallowed down by Ghost’s lips bearing heavily down upon your own. He’d ripped the mask upwards, the hem of the ski-mask balanced across the bridge of his nose. Simon’s tongue licks into your mouth– intrudes upon the space like he’s kicking down a door, like he’s swallowing the breath he’d expelled from you with his heavy hand.

Once the dazed dizziness dissipates, you moan in relief at finally getting what you wanted. Ghost’s gigantic paw takes hold of your jaw in a firm grip to fit his mouth perfectly against your own, his swirling fingerprints indenting in the soft flesh there in a mottled bruise. The soft pine he coaxes from you bleeds past your open mouth despite your attempt to suppress the frankly pathetic noise.

Fuck it, this was worth it– all of it was worth it. The fear of getting it wrong, the anxiety of being caught, the panic that Simon could turn you away… All of it seeps into the darkness in the corners of the room when your superior drags his tongue across your lower lip. It’s though he’s relishing in the taste of the aftershocks of the arousal he sparks between your legs, the dopamine that rushes through you.

“Was this your plan?” Ghost grunts, grasping ahold of the scruff of your neck. Gasping weakly, you’re almost certain your eyes roll back in your head when he uses his harsh grip to steer you towards the bed. “Get me out of my fuckin’ mind so I don’t notice you takin’ off the mask?”

“That’s–” you huff, rendered breathless by Ghost’s intruding tongue, “That’s not it–”

Your pitiful attempt to excuse yourself is made useless when Ghost practically launches you onto the mattress of his bed, the rusted metal frame screaming under the sudden weight of your body.

“No?” he queries, the usual boom of authority in his voice replaced by something that sounds far more like goading amusement as he places the hefty weight of his palm against your sternum, holding you down and thwarting any attempt to escape.

He needn’t worry. The last thing you wanted was to leave.

“Tell you what,” he muses in that smug tone you always hear over the comms, his free hand quick to grasp at the leather of his belt. The buckle clinks in the quiet as he works his fingers over it, “We’ll run through this mission, yeh? See if you can complete your objective, Delta?”

Your retort, or lack thereof, dies in your throat when Ghost pushes his crotch into your own. If it weren’t for the yelp of bliss that the Lieutenant had to smother with his palm, you’d hear the way he’d practically purred when he dragged his cock against you.

“C’mon then. Try it,” he urged.

It’s pointless, his mock-support. You just desperately reach for the waistband of his khaki uniform trousers, cockdrunk from the tease of its shape against you. Even in the low light, you can see Ghost’s scarred lips, the way they stretch into a smirk at your desperation.

“Abandoning mission, Sergeant?” He asks you, unzipping his trousers. “Price’ll be disappointed to know this is all it takes for Delta to go AWOL.”

“Shut up,” you moan into the cold air of the cabin. You can see your breath. “Shut up and fuck me.”

When Simon removed himself from his trousers, making some glib comment about you being demanding, you marvel at the size of him. Girthy, swollen, the ruddy tip leaks precum down the arch of his cock and traces the pulsing veins. He’s rock hard and throbbing, framed by a thatch of pubic hair.

Fumbling with your own trousers, you awkwardly try to remove them given Simon’s weighty palm still pins you down by your sternum. He watches, a glint in his eye in the low light that would almost embarrass you if you weren’t so focused on the task at hand.

“What was the prize?”

“H-Huh?” you stall, mind fried by Ghost’s unexpected line of enquiry. He picks up where you left off, violently yanking your trousers down your thighs and pushing your panties aside to expose your glistening cunt to his prying eyes.

“What. Was. The. Prize?”

You hesitate for a moment, feeling Ghost’s fingers press against the inside of your thighs as he probes this unexplored territory of you. His touch skirts the areas you want him most, teasing and goading you for more information. “H-Hassa-ahh!”

You barely manage the first syllable of your answer before Simon rests the arch of his cock against your slick pussy lips. His body jerks slightly at the heat of your swollen cunt, the ease with which he can slide himself through your drenched sex.

“You got to kill Hassan?” he asked for confirmation, his voice unwavering. You wonder how he manages to stay so steady– you’re coming apart at the seams, trembling as the head of his cock bumps your clit clumsily.

“Yes,” you breathe, eyes rolling back as he continues his laboured, steady torture. His free hand settles on your hip, arching your pelvis up slightly to meet his own. You grind your hips upward against his cock, and Simon expels a soft scoff from lungs, those piercing eyes settled on your contorting expression.

“Mhmm,” he hums, rolling his hips again. This time it’s even slower, teasing. “A temptin’ reward–”

Simon is interrupted by the moan that splits your lips when he drags the length of his cock heavily against your clit. It sparks arousal deep in your abdomen, clings to the inside of your thighs wetly.

Perhaps the disturbance is one transgression too many tonight, because Simon grasps your hips so hard that you are forced to stop gliding over the length of his cock. You pine in protest, but you choke on the pitiful sound when Ghost suddenly plunges his cock inside of you. It spears you open, breaks you apart, and you find your back arching desperately against the mattress.

The palm that had rooted itself to your sternum flies up to clasp against your mouth, smothering the shriek of bliss that threatened to expose your extracurricular activities to the rest of your squad. You sob through your teeth beneath his life line, tears welling in your eyes as you feel him stretch your walls open to make room for his intrusion.

You can’t help yourself. You need something to grasp onto, and opt for his wrist above your face. Digging your nails into the inked flesh there, you watch as the pain sparks something dark and twisted in Simon’s pupils, his azure irises swallowed by the expanding blackness.

He likes it. You can tell. His cock arches up inside of you, pushing deep and rocking against something earth shattering inside of you. Damp with sweat already, the skin of his wrist ripples as he tightens his grip on your face, refusing to withdraw from your pussy walls and instead opting for sharp, shallow thrusts that push you up the mattress with each connection of your hips.

“Fuck,” he spits, using his tight grasp to pull you back towards him. It’s obliterating you, ripping you apart and pushing all your pieces back together in a mangled, jumbled mess. You whimper as you suffer through his brutal pace, marvelling at how good it feels when he consistently spears your g-spot.

“When would you have done it?” Simon asks you, a little breathless now as he chases the high that begins to build at the edges of your body, tingling and pulsing.

“Shut up–” you beg him, the low rasp of his voice launching you towards that pleasure that threatens to consume you. Jerking your hips up to meet his, your body mindlessly reacts to the sound of his timbre.

“Oh, no,” he chuckles, shaking his half masked face. There’s a silver laden scar that stretches across the base of his chin. It matches the one that splits his upper lip to the base of his nose, the ski mask hovering tantalisingly over the bridge. “When?”

The seriousness of his tone makes your thighs quiver when paired with the sharp thrust he punctuates his question with. Years of training in maintaining a cover-story while a hostage are blown to bits as though Ghost has launched a mortar at your resolve, because suddenly all your state secrets are spilling out of you quicker than you can shove the incriminating words back into your traitor mouth.

“I’d– Hagh… I’d do it j-just as you’re cummin–hhah!”

“And spoil my fun?” Ghost hums, that heavy timbre licking up your spine and sparking viscous embers at the base of your spine, “Anyone ever told you that you’re very fuckin’ selfish, Delta?”

You’d offer a witty comment, but Ghost’s angled his hips just right, and your jaw is falling loose to let out a panicked whimper.

“There it is, shit. Look at you, Sargeant. Fuckin’, you’re so tight–”

You’re like a slip knot, tightening around him further with each knock of your g-spot with Simon’s ridiculously large cock-head. Prickling tears of bliss threaten to spill over the edge of your waterline, continuing to sting even when you shut your eyes. You’re shaking, trembling beneath his rocking hips as you mewl his name.

“S-Simon! Fuck–”

Wild, wet squelches of Simon sinking into your soaked cunt echo in your skull as he ramps up his violent thrusts, the springs of his mattress screaming an unmistakable rhythm to anyone walking by. He doesn’t seem to care now though, his eyes zeroed in on your expression like he’s stalking a victim with his sniper scope. Aiming for complete obliteration.

“C’mon Can feel you squeezin’ round me,” he murmurs, the steady tone he’d offered earlier shuddering slightly as you squeeze impossibly tight around him, coil threatening to snap, “You’re so close, Delta. C’mon, paint my cock an’ I’ll eat you out with my cum in you–”

✰

“He’s blonde.”

Gawping jaws drop to the floor at your very simple observation, Soap’s eyes nearly rolling across the uneven, rotten floorboards after falling out of his skull. You can’t help the smug smile that threatens to tug at the edge of your lips, especially given the sensation of Ghost’s eyes boring holes into the back of your skull.

The awe only worsens when Price gives a subtle nod of confirmation from the corner of the darkened room, crowning you the winner of this utterly ridiculous joust.

“How do you know?” Gary is as shaken as Soap by the confidence with which you’d offered your final answer, in disbelief as to how you could have possibly obtained it without being maimed, given the egg on his forehead was still throbbing despite days of icing it with the snow from outside the safehouse.

“His pubes are. I assume the curtains match the drapes,” you shrug dismissively.

The sheer incredulity that flashes across Johnny’s face is utterly hilarious. The smirk that had been threatening to break finally cracks across your lips at the confirmation of your victory. Ghost’s eyes appear to have lazered through your skull, singing brain matter with the ferocity of his scowl. Frankly, you couldn’t care less– you can see it in your mind's eye; the gorgeous contrast of a blood-red crosshair settling across Hassan’s forehead, the weight of the trigger beneath your finger as you pull it back.

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@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth

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bangtanflirt · 8 months

Text

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 5)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: brief mention of the lasting effects of performing sexual acts under the influence of the synthetic hormones (aka dubcon), slight daddy issues

____

Yoongi wakes up to the sound of his phone alarm blaring in his ear. It takes him a moment to remember he’s not in his room, the chandelier on the ceiling making that evident. No matter how many times he sleeps in this room, the extravagance of it will always startle him. You really were not one for subtlety when it came to home décor (or at least, twenty-one-year-old you wasn’t).

He looks at the door and remembers the reason he’s here…how there’s six wolf hybrids on the other side. Sure, they’re about as docile as a box of puppies at the moment, but it’s only a handful of more days until that changes. And worst of all, he still has to go to work and leave you alone with them for hours—especially now that you’ve paused housekeeping and chef visits. Even if you didn’t pause them, they’d stop coming on their own; no one sane would take a chance around a 40% wolf pack slowly remembering their natural instincts. Hell, the security services he’s looked at won’t even take that risk. No matter how many times he tells you how insane of a decision this is, your stubbornness will always win out in the end. He’s never been able to stop you when you’re determined to do something.

Yoongi wishes he could stay here with you, but he knows there’s no way you’d rest easy without him keeping you updated on business. He’s always been your right-hand, and while others might find the role burdensome, he prides himself on it. You don’t keep people close often, having your guard set up higher than the Great Wall of China, and it feels nice knowing he can see a side of you others don’t. Yes, it’s probably the feelings talking—feelings he’s tried to shoo away for a long time now—but that doesn’t make it any less true. He likes this job, and being by your side every day, far too much to risk it by trying anything. And he sure as hell won’t be put in the box of men who constantly hit on you during work, knowing far too well how much you hate their gazes and remarks.

It's when he’s making his way to the kitchen for his morning coffee does he lock eyes with Jimin, who’s already bright-eyed and making pancakes.

“Good morning, Sir! Would you like some pancakes and bacon?”

Yoongi doesn’t normally eat breakfast, but he does not have it in him to say no to the cheery wolf.

“Um…sure, thank you.”

“My pleasure. Anything else I can get you? Juice? Coffee?”

“I can make my own coffee but thank you for offering.”

“No please, I insist!”

He doesn’t leave any room for objections as he races over to the coffee machine, keeping a skillful eye on the pancake on the stove while brewing a new pot.

Yoongi watches awkwardly, not really knowing what to do in this situation. He’s never really talked to a hybrid before.

Do I just talk like I would to another person? Should I howl? No, dumbass, don’t howl. That’s weird.

He opts to stay silent as Jimin prepares his meal.

The wolf is in a visibly cheery mood, as evident by the soft whistling he does while making his way around the kitchen. The cause of this mood is simple: his hyung was still not in the room when he woke up. If you’re using Hoseok’s services, then that’s one step closer to getting you to use the whole pack. Which means they have a chance at staying here. Hoseok hyung did his part, now it’s Jimin’s turn. So he woke up early, memorized where everything in the kitchen was, and started working his magic.

And the fruit—or pancake—of his labor is sitting pretty on a plate, served with a cup of hot coffee on the side. He waits eagerly for Yoongi to take his first bite, which the man does quickly under the expecting gaze.

“This is really good, thank you.” He mumbles between mouthfuls, making the younger man break into a wide grin.

“Thank you for enjoying it Sir! I can make it again for breakfast tomorrow, or eggs, or toas—”

“Just Yoongi is fine. ‘Sir’ isn’t necessary. And thank you again for the food, but there’s no need to cook every morning. I usually prefer to make my own coffee and head out.”

“Oh…then I’ll just prepare the coffee for you! It’ll be in your hand right when you walk out your room!”

Yoongi waves his hand dismissively,

“No need. I’ll make it myself.”

Jimin looks for any sign of a trick. He remembers things like this from the lab, where they’d give him trick scenarios to see if he was smart enough to catch on. But Yoongi’s face doesn’t indicate anything.

He seems awkward, so maybe he just doesn’t know how to use a hybrid yet? I should let him know how to use me.

“But I’m here to serve y/n, and you’re y/n’s guest. This is what I’m made to do.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, it’s too damn early in the morning for a conversation like this.

“Neither y/n nor I are expecting any services from you or the others. This house is a place for you to recover and rest.”

Now the wolf looks even more perplexed.

“But y/n is using our services. She let Jin hyung do the dishes yesterday, Jungkook helped move furniture around, and Hoseok hyung was with her all night. So why can’t I make you a cup of coffee every morning?”

Yoongi halts his motions, replaying what he just heard in his head.

Hoseok hyung was with her all night.

Hoseok…the “romantic” hybrid?

No. It couldn’t be.

You wouldn’t do something like that.

“What do you mean he was with her all night?”

“Hyung went over last night. He’s still in the room with her now.” He says if it’s most casual thing in the world.

Yoongi’s legs work faster than his brain at that moment, as he’s already rushing to your door in an instant, leaving an oblivious Jimin to clean up in the kitchen.

He knocks but you don’t answer, so he knocks louder. It’s Hoseok who delicately opens the door, making Yoongi feel like he’s about to vomit the entire breakfast he’s just had.

He practically bulldozes his way in, looking around for you before hearing the water running from the bathroom.

“Y-y/n is in the shower. D-did you need anything, Sir?”

“Don’t call me Sir.” He snaps.

Hoseok doesn’t know what to do. This is his first time talking to this man, and it’s clear he’s already in his bad graces. It feels as if his feet are stuck in one place.

“What happened last night, between the two of you?”

Hoseok knows it’s wrong to lie, especially to a guest brought by his owner. He knows he should say what really happened: how you and him slept on opposite sides of the bed and didn’t even touch the entire night, how he didn’t even have a single thought of touching you nor the desire to have sex with anyone anymore—but how could he, a romantic, trained to do just that, admit this? How could he admit it to himself, let alone Yoongi?

So he doesn’t.

“I-I w-was g-good for her the whole n-night. She was happy with my s-service.”

What the fuck y/n.

Yoongi’s seeing red, leaving the house as soon as possible and not sparing Jimin a single glance as the wolf exclaims a “Have a good day at work!” on his way out.

___

Something feels off when you text Yoongi this morning. He’s usually not the most expressive texter, but his tone feels cold even for him. So you ask if he’s free for a call, which he says he’s too busy for. That’s the second red flag. Yoongi never declines your calls unless he’s with his mother in the hospital.

Maybe there’s problems with her health again? Maybe it’s got him distracted at work?

Your worries keep you too occupied to realize how eagerly Jimin is standing there, waiting for praise for his creation. It’s only when the wolf’s nervous fidgeting becomes unavoidable do you look up and get the cue.

“Thank you so much for breakfast Jimin. It was delicious.”

His heart swells at the compliment.

“Did Yoongi eat this before he left?”

He nods.

“How did he seem? His mood, I mean.”

Jimin stares up for a moment, recalling the interaction.

“He seemed okay? He said he liked the food, but then he got up really quickly to go somewhere…back to his room I think? I’m not sure. Then he left the house really fast.”

“I see.”

You wrack your brain, trying to think of what could have happened in the morning. But you have to remind yourself that it’s Yoongi, and one thing about Yoongi is that he opens up on his own terms—something you both have in common—so all you can really do is wait until he’s ready to talk about whatever’s on his mind. Hopefully it’s something you can help out with.

“Is everyone else awake? Have they already had breakfast?”

“We’re allowed to have breakfast too?” His pupils dilate at the thought. No one thought breakfast would be on the table when you were already being so generous with lunch and dinner. He’s been staring at each pancake he’s flipped, desire in his eyes as thick as the maple syrup he drizzled.

“Yes Jimin, breakfast is for everyone here.”

“I’ll get the others right now! Thank you so much!”

You watch fondly as he does a half-walk half-skip out of sight.

“Guys! Y/n said we can eat breakfast, come on out!” It doesn’t take long until the four from the hybrid room come out, and Hoseok makes his way out from your room, instantly receiving proud looks and pats on the back from his packmates.

“What did she say about last night?!” Taehyung wastes no time in inquiring from his hyung.

Hoseok chuckles nervously, wanting nothing to get the five pairs of eyes off of him.

“She was very satisfied.” The words are bitter as they leave his mouth.

“I knew it! No one can resist our Hobi! Good job hyung!”

Namjoon is simultaneously relieved yet disappointed. Relieved that there’s a chance to stay, but disappointed with himself that he couldn’t step up and be the reason. He can’t help but feel like he let Hoseok down by relying on him. He’s the Alpha. He’s supposed to be the reliable one.

“Come on guys, let’s go eat.”

___

“Thank you so much for the meal y/n. We’ll wash up first then assist you in any way you need.”

“You can use the other three vacant bathrooms if you don’t want to wait on each other. There’s fresh towels under each sink.”

“Oh just one bathroom is enough. We’re used to showering together.”

You don’t miss the way Jungkook recoils at the mention of a shower.

“Jungkook doesn’t like showers. He prefers baths.” You state matter-of-factly, surprising Namjoon.

Has his pup been going around demanding things from you? He knows better than to do that.

Jungkook writhes under his Alpha’s gaze, unable to handle disappointing him.

He knows he’ll have to go back to showers with the others now, but there’s a selfish voice in the back of his head wishing he didn’t.

“He’s fine with showers, aren’t you Koo?”

Jungkook nods quick, but you’re not buying it.

“Jungkook, don’t lie to me. Are you sure you’re okay with taking a shower?”

His throat goes dry. He can’t lie to you but he also knows what he’s about to say will disappoint his packmates—make him look like a spoiled brat.

“N-not really. I-I’d like to take a bath please—if that’s allowed.”

“Jungkook. We are not going to waste y/n’s water by washing up separately. You know better.” Namjoon’s voice is low and solemn, making the other hybrids watch with bated breaths. He feels bad, knowing why Jungkook is so afraid. The labs used to only let them have freezing cold showers. The researchers didn’t like how he would shiver in the stall, something the rest were much better at controlling. They called it misbehaving and made him stay behind to hose him down with even colder water.

So, no one really blames Jungkook for not wanting to take a shower here, but it’s about principle. Sure, it seemed you were lenient enough to let Jungkook have his way on some matters, but that was when it was just the two of you. What if the others follow his example and start asking for special treatment? There’s only so much you’d allow before getting fed up with them. No, he has to snip it off at the bud, make sure everyone is behaving perfectly for you.

Jungkook’s floundering, looking for any way out, but thankfully you step in.

“It’s okay Namjoon, really. Everyone’s free to use either one, and please feel free to take individual showers. You could each take twelve hour showers and I’d still have more than enough money for the water bill, I promise.”

Namjoon examines your face carefully, seeing nothing but sincerity.

“Are you sure?”

“One thousand percent.”

The atmosphere lightens up enough for Taehyung to speak up from the back.

“W-what about warm water? Is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

Namjoon looks at you with a sliver of solace, but still on guard for the slightest hint of a trap.

___

The rest of the day goes by with the hybrids focusing on little tasks you’ve allocated.

Jungkook’s still making his way through Extraordinary Woo, Hoseok joining in with his own little notebook. You still can’t look the older one in the eye after last night, feeling like shit for even considering what he was offering you. Thank god you snapped out of it quick, or you could never forgive yourself. You still need to find a good time to sit them around and tell them nothing happened; as dumb of a decision you made to let him sleep over, the last thing you want is for anyone to actually think you did anything more than just sleeping. Every time you tried to bring up the topic at breakfast, however, Hoseok asked you some other question to distract you, never quite letting you get the words out.

Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung are tucked away in an abandoned study room, organizing your extensive book collection. It was Jin who suggested it, having his hands itching to clean the moment you showed the room during last night’s tour. It’s not hard labor, so you agree to appease them.

Namjoon prefers to keep by your side in your home office, working on a rather difficult puzzle you laid out for him. It’s endearing to watch his chin protrude as he scans the image on the box and the 250 pieces scattered on the table.

Even though you’re technically on vacation, work never really stops, as evident by the documents that need your approval piling in the database. Yoongi texts you updates of a couple of ventures, but it’s with the same stand-offish tone. It makes you more upset than you care to admit, not receiving his little sarcastic quips throughout the day.

You’re scanning through some current market trends when you receive the call you’ve been dreading: your father. You clear your throat before answering, trying to come off as confident as you can.

“Hello father.”

Namjoon’s ears perk up at that. He knows he shouldn’t use his hybrid hearing right now, keep everything filtered to his immediate surroundings like they taught at the lab (no one likes a nosy pet), but his curiosity gets the best of him. He almost jumps at the yelling on the other side of the phone, your father clearly not happy with you at the moment. He doesn’t make it obvious that he’s listening in, only sparing the shortest glances your way in between the puzzle. Your face is aloof through it all, showing no indication that you’re being so harshly berated at the moment; it’s an expression he’s all too familiar with. It’s one that was trained into him perfectly at the lab; stoic, statue-esque features to never show you’re scared—never show weakness. Namjoon, who’s had it beaten and drugged into him, can’t help but wonder what circumstances made you have the same expression.

You hang up just as calmly as you picked up, only indication of your actual mood being your nervously tapping foot.

“Is everything alright? Anything I can help with?”

He knows nothing is alright, considering you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes with your father telling you how spineless you’re being.

“The people at my company don’t like me right now. If you know how to change that, I’m very much all ears.”

He’s surprised to receive a real answer, expecting you to give him an unconvincing “Everything’s fine” at the best and a “None of your fucking business” at the worst. Not many people actually answer hybrids, he’s learned since entering captivity. In the wild, where no one would dare dismiss a wolf hybrid, he was used to having his thoughts valued at the highest regard. However, the human world taught him quickly that hybrids weren’t meant to be talked to as equals—it will always be a master/pet relationship.

It's been a while since someone other than his packmates have earnestly asked for his opinion.

“Can’t you fire them if they don’t agree with you?”

You smile at him, but not the mocking “that’s a stupid idea” smile he’s used to with humans, but rather a sad “I wish it was that simple” smile.

“As much as it is my company on paper, my father still impacts a lot of the decisions I make. I can’t really fire them for stuff he doesn’t think 'important'. If I do, he’ll fly out to the next shareholder meeting at literal superspeed, I’m sure. If they don’t violate any major laws or policies, I basically have my hands tied. Just have to pretend everything is okay.”

The wolf’s features soften, weirdly understanding where you’re coming from. He feels the same, with his “Alpha” position holding no real value anymore. He’s only the leader of his pack on paper, but it’s you who provides for them. It’s you who they follow.

“That sounds really rough, especially having to pretend you’re okay when you’re not.” He doesn’t know what else to say. He wishes he could give you some genius solution that would prove to you how useful he is, but that’s all that comes out.

“We both do that well, don’t we? I think that’s why I’m drawn to you the most.”

It’s evident on Namjoon’s face that that’s the last thing he was expecting to hear from you—or from anyone really. If you should be drawn to anyone it should be Jungkook with his doe eyes and unadulterated innocence, or Hoseok with his irresistible charisma, or Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung with their soft and loving temperaments. Not him. Not him who’s rough and rigid and the least fun. Not him who does nothing but worry all day yet put up a front that he’s strong and in-charge.

“You seem surprised to hear that.”

“I’m usually not what people are drawn to.”

“People like us never are, are we? I wouldn’t tell my worries so candidly to most people you know, but I see so much of myself in you.”

People like us. Not pet and owner…both people.

Again, he doesn’t know what the right thing to say is.

____

A/N: Hope you are liking the story so far! Please interact if you can 💞 have a great rest of your day!! 🫶🏽

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universe @morelovefortn @seagulljk

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

*If Tumblr doesn't let me tag you for some reason, I'll send you a DM instead!

#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #poly ot7 #ot7 x reader #hurt/comfort #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #unnatural instincts

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auspicioustidings · 4 months

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Captain Price wondered what it was this time as he entered the common area to find his Lieutenent snorting, his Seargants full blown howling and you, his Corporal, looking absolutely moritifed, fingers raking down your face as Soap got on his knees in front of you.

"Oh naw! I've went and tripped so I have, dinnae want anyone tae think I'm doing something neferious with my wee sister."

"Shut up shut up shut up" you chanted.

"Grab a camera will you Gaz? This kind of stuff makes good money."

"Good thinking LT. Come on Soap, get closer."

"Don't encourage him!"

"Having fun are we?"

"Captain! Make them stop" you whined, shoving at Soap's head between your legs.

"You'll never guess who got on like a house on fire at that medal ceremony" Simon said to Price, smug grin perpetual.

Price raised an eyebrow in question as Gaz sidled up to his side, looking giddy to be able to tell him.

"Spotted Soap's dad with the Corporal's lovely mother. Looked like they were getting pretty close outside" he almost sang as you cringed.

"I ken my old man, reckon he'll have gotten close inside as well."

"Soap! Captain make them stop!"

"Oh, no no. This is a family matter, you'll need to sort it out with your step-brother. I'm sure I've seen a movie where the step-sister convinces her step-brother by-"

You screamed into your hands and resigned yourself to never ever living this down. You hoped you mum was happy.

#mhairidrabbles #tf141 #this is dumb but I think the concept is very funny #the way Soap is so rooting for your parents to actually get married #honestly they all are for the comedy value of you being step siblings

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konigsblog · 6 months

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༉‧₊˚. sharpened claws

soap x f!reader ...

kinktober masterlist. (day 10, werewolf)

warnings: werewolf, hybrid, johnny is cruel and brutual, blowjobs, face fucking, hair pulling, spitting, degrading, female and male masturbation.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: for those wondering, requests are closed as i have over 200... yeah, i'm working my way through them as quick as possible! they will be turned on when i feel satisfied.

Johnny always had to be muzzled when he was in his werewolf form, otherwise you'd be left with bite marks and scratches all over your body.

He hated being muzzled. He despised it. He'd always back away when you attempted to put it around his jaw, growling and snarling at you for attempting to restrict him.

The moon became whole, and he began howling loudly. Any attempt at hushing him was deemed useless as he only continued, ignoring how you barked orders at him.

“Johnny, stop it!” you scolded, grasping at his collar and attempting to drag his heavy bodyweight back into the dog cage. Johnny didn't approve of this. As he snarled, he stood to his full 8ft potential in height, grasping at your poor, innocent body and throwing you to your knees.

He was going through heat, desperate to rut against your precious lace panties whenever he could. It would usually end in him being locked in that god forbid dog cage. He wasn't a dog, he was a werewolf, and he'd make sure you got that through your thick skull by the time he was through with you.

Large, furry paws grasped your hair tightly, angling your chin towards him. His eyes were white with anger and desperation, his hard cock already leaking at the sight of your obedience. Johnny would be taking charge now.

Now that he had you trembling and shaking beneath him, he could have his way, despite how wrong and taboo it felt to be taking his owners role. “When will ye' learn to stop fuckin' orderin' me about?!” his voice was laced with frustration as he grinded his wet, hard heat against your face slowly, rubbing it back and forth as his tip leaked and seeped white, sticky precum.

“Don't'ye want tae make it up tae me, bonnie?” he practically whispered out. The sheer size of him was enough to scare you into obedience, a vulnerable mess beneath the large, soft figure. You nodded, meekly taking his girth into your hand, stroking it slowly while maintaining eye contact with the beast.

“Good lass.” you shuddered at his praise, slowly licking around his head and collecting his arousal onto your tongue. Johnny's breath hitched before it became laboured. The wet sensation of your tongue against his huge cock was enough to have him growling out chants, praising you for listening.

You wrapped your lips around him, slowly easing down. It was hard, a struggle to fit his width into your mouth. Your eyes watered as you felt him hit the back of your throat, the intense grip on your head threatening you to be good for him.

Johnny gradually pushed you down, groaning when your tongue rested flat against his shaft. “Relax tha' throat f'me, princess...” he pushed his broad hips up against your face, forcing his dick further down your throat, gasping when you pushed you to the base. You grasped his fur covered thighs tightly.

God, that worried and petrified expression was to die for. He petted you like an eager dog, chuckling at your suprise. He rutted against your face, panting and growling out as he felt your lips tighten around him nicely. “God,— filthy fuckin' slag, huh? Ain't'cha just a delight?” his pace grew faster as the knot in his stomach began, full and heavy balls slapping against your face occasionally, wet and dripping, his musk prominent.

You babbled out around him, incoherent as he continued to ruin your pretty face. His thrusts grew erratic as he thrusted his erect sex down your wet throat. You fought the urge to sob, but the harsh gags caused tears to stream down your pretty face, your eyes raw as they flowed from your waterline.

A moan left his throat, his heavy ballsack wet from your drool and his pink, thick tip leaking into your throat. Fast and brutual thrusts caused you to panic and attempt to breathe through your nose, his thick fingers pinching your nose to mess with your mind.

“Ye' wanna breathe, aye? Better make me cum then, nuisance.” you choked on sobs as he forced his lengthy size down your throat, not caring one bit about you. He could feel himself getting closer as he rutted harshly into your face, his veiny shaft rubbing against your tongue as he face fucked you until tears.

“Naughty tease.” he spit, a fat glob of saliva landing onto your face. He tugged and yanked at your hair, forcing your head to move at the same rhythm of his hips. “Oh, fuck— God, bonnie–hah... Jesus, I'm gonna fuckin' ruin this throat...” he grew even faster, slamming his cock down your throat before spurting out thick strings of seed.

You gagged on it, it was impossible not to. A sob left your lips as he pulled away, leaving you breathless as he spurted the rest of his load onto your face, covering your face in his thick cum. He grumbled, throwing his head back. Your hands still grasping at his hips and your face ruined with tears. You cried out, your pussy leaking for attention, those pretty lace panties ruined from your arousal.

Slowly, he lifted you into his arms. He held you in his burly arms and pushed your cunt against his face whilst standing up, your hands immediately grasping at his ears as ripped your panties off using his canines. The second he had access to your gorgeous cunt, he was lapping over it, collecting your juices onto his tongue. He made no effort to avoid biting you, instead covering your thighs in bite marks to show dominance and control over you.

He swirled the tip of his tongue against your stimulated and sensitive clit, your stuttered sobs and moans making him chuckle into your sex. “Taste so sweet, mmh', fuck, baby...” Johnny's voice was pussydrunk, drunk and addicted to your sweetness.

The werewolf curled his tongue inside your hole, flicking your clit, his face covered in your slick as you grinded against him, squirting all down his chest. You came with a scream, your core tightening as you wiped your tears with the back of your palm, rubbing your cunt to soothe the sensation rushing through you.

He threw you onto the couch, panting beside you, his fur covered in sweet musk. Your poor pussy was so sloppy for him, he couldn't help but slobber all over your sex until it was covered in his drool.

“Look at yerself, bonnie. A complete mess, huh? Just couldn't help myself, 'm sorry.” brushing the hair from your pretty face, his cum still caught in your hair and running down your cheeks and chin.

...

#orla speaks #hybrid #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #cod soap #soap call of duty #soap mw2 #johnny mactavish #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap cod #call of duty fic #kinktober #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod imagine

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kooktrash · 8 months

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the art of obsession | kim taehyung [teaser]

NOW POSTED

summary: in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.

✎ genre/au: dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]

✎ TBD

“There is no beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.” — Edgar Allan Poe

warnings: smut. slight obsession. prestigious college. dark characters. tae literally takes oc to a graveyard. MORE WARNINGS TO COME

“I told you, it might be scary,” Taehyung said as he walked parallel to the graveyard toward a tree that stood tall along the sloping hill, “But this is the best view of twilight, if you want, I could walk you back to campus.”

“No, it’s fine,” you cleared your throat deciding to walk ahead of him so you could be the one sitting upright against the tree. Taehyung dropped his backpack a few feet away from you and began getting his things out.

You didn’t question him, only observed the way he carried on like you weren’t even there. It’s not like you minded, you didn’t have any real agenda to get him to spend time with you and frankly, you felt a bit relieved to see that he wasn’t trying to figure out what you wanted. It was unspoken the way the two of you seemed to think similarly and brought out your tools.

Taehyung didn’t say anything when he flipped his sketchbook open and found a charcoal he could use as he began to sketch without much thought into it. He even made himself comfortable by lying back, using the angle of the hill to help him not lay horizontally and he bent a knee up as a sort of flat surface he could rest his book on. There was a small breeze that carried through his linen shirt and brown trousers but he wasn’t much worried about himself.

He was more worried about you, who had asked to spend time with him but had no real plan to do so. He’ll admit, when he said no it was just on reflex from all the other times he’s out right rejected others before but he only thought it over because he’s been curious of you two. When you told him you would join him for a moment he debated saying no again because this was his favorite place to be to watch the sunset but it wasn’t all that normal. He even tried to warn you and offer to take you back when you saw the graveyard but you didn’t even seem to care when you sat down. Now that he’s looking at you up close, he can see the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you scribbled in your journal, already feeling inspiration.

It’s now that Taehyung is realizing why he’s been so curious. He finds you beautiful, he’s sure he’s mentioned that before, but he finds you beautiful in an unsettling way. Just looking at you seemed to send him into a wave of emotion like you’re exactly what he’s wished to create on canvas. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were working away to make another sketch, eyes on you as he worked.

“What are you writing in that little journal of yours?” He found himself asking after some time. The sketch was rough and yet it was so refined that there was no mistaking what it could be. It was a monochromatic sketch of you with your back against the tree, legs straight before you and your hair covering your face with the howl of the wind. Your hands looked delicate when you wrote and you looked so lost in your own work that managed to capture that same essence in his drawing.

Your eyes met his and he didn’t back down from the stare even as it intensified with each passing second until finally you said, “I’ll tell you if you show me what you’ve been doing in that little sketchbook of yours.”

For some reason a small smile came to his face as he laid on his side using his elbow for support and reached over to hand you the sketchbook. You took it with a sense of excitement that quickly turned into disbelief as you looked at it. The back of your index finger hovered over it but never touched for fear that you would smudge it and when you finally handed it back to him, wordlessly, you gave him your journal.

At this exchange, Taehyung moved to sit up, not bothering to brush off any loose grass blades off his linen shirt and read over a short passage.

A certain coolness in his gaze that made him appear cruel.

A charming aura that seemed timeless, not modern but ancient like he was created from every classic literature known to man.

His gaze, his smile, his voice—all deep like red velvet.

The list went on, each short sentence followed by another in what one could assume was meant to describe him. He didn’t say anything either as he handed it back to you the same way you had done with his sketchbook. Neither of you were looking for critique or praise, more so acknowledgement of what the other had been doing and once you had it, it was enough.

Taehyung stared forward as the line of bright Orange finally vanished from the sky and a cool blue clouded it. Nothing was said as you both stood up with your things and even less was brought up on your walk back to campus.

It wasn’t until you stood at the bus stop that Taehyung decided to ask, “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“No.”

He pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket in his trousers followed by a pen as he scribbled something down before handing it to you, “Meet me here

at 8:00pm.”

You didn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to know you would show and he left without much of a goodbye.

::.

here’s just a little snippet of what I’ve been working on bc I miss fall and need it to hurry up

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby

#kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagine #taehyung au #Taehyung smut #bts taehyung #taehyung fiction #taehyung fluff #taehyung oneshot #taehyung drabble

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euphoricfilter · 8 months

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pairing: howl! taehyung x f. reader

just a short thought on howl! tae because you can’t tell me they aren’t the same person! i would literally write a whole essay on these two

(cw: smut!! mild filth and a fluffy ending)

not to bring the horny back to the page for like idk the 4th night in a row, but just imagine taehyung as howl in his crazy room while fucking you…

he wouldn’t shy away from the dirty talk, calling you a pretty little thing as he moulds your body in all the ways he likes. making you ride him before he has you face down, ass up, all cute for him.

his pretty fingers digging into the meat of your ass before he dips them into your pussy, kissing the back of your thighs before he sinks his teeth into your flesh

always absolutely enamored by the visual of his cum slipping past your folds, loving how your thighs would quiver when he fingers it all back into you with a gentle kiss to your poor clit

it wouldn’t come as a surprise to you anymore when you accidentally tug a little too hard on one of the sheets beside you, trinkets and treasure tumbling over the pillow, and if it weren’t for his fast reflexes then probably on your head too. and if taehyung wasn’t balls deep inside of you, then you might have worked yourself up to huff at him for it

but when he pushes your knees to your chest, ends of his hair sweat slicked, clinging to his forehead, you can never find yourself caring about his over eccentric ways. (it never actually bothers you on the daily, until your breathing in a life times worth of dust), but even then he was your taehyung and you wouldn’t want him any other way

he’d always bathe you after, bubbly potions and lotions almost falling into the tub with how many he kept stacked around the bath’s rim. tutting and tugging bottles away from you when you try to touch, curious as ever to what he’d been brewing up.

however, after the last time you’d messed around with his bottles and changed his shampoo— resulting in what you would say a very striking orange, he would always be a little skeptical of your overzealous cleaning of his little castle

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #bts taehyung #taehyung

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fairybinie · 11 months

Text

KISS, DON’T TELL — 15: if's and when's

synopsis: popular and menacingly wicked choi beomgyu has the entire senior class wrapped around his finger. the high school drama club has cherished y/n as their veteran for four years. to fulfill beomgyu’s graduation requirements, he must join y/n’s drama club despite his grudges. unbeknownst to everyone else, y/n and beomgyu have their history. they’ve kissed before (or more like y/n has bitten his lip to bleed) and beomgyu hasn’t lived it down ever since. y/n cannot stand this guy. they can make it through the entire year as the leads in their play, right?

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a/n: written (3.8k) + smau. mentions of kissing, nothing else i can see! so sorry for the wait i hope this was worth it 😔

...

but good to know :D

really y/n?

y/n could have chosen to ignore the last few messages of his remorse and just told him them were on their way. they also could have chosen to ignore that beomgyu can actually bring a smile to their face and their limited interactions have been replaying in their head since they have occurred. it’s hard to ignore a feeling like that.

texting beomgyu these past days and observing him in class has led y/n to believe that maybe there is more to him than what he is displaying. it’s no doubt that he keeps up an image for everyone else to believe and roll with, hell, even idolize with. y/n knew that already, but they weren’t sure if there was anything below the surface. did he even have a personality besides the obnoxious one that was 24/7? the fact that he seemed to be sorrowful about his comments just now might insinuate that he has a conscious. sure, it wasn’t there before. perhaps something shifted in the boy recently. why?

come to think of it, y/n really doesn't know anything about this guy. he plays guitar, that’s something, right? does beomgyu want to become a musician despite being stern about the fact that he doesn’t have a passion? he has to have one.

questions, questions, questions that y/n is hoping to get answers to.

most of all, why is he still hung up on the shared kiss that happened four years ago?

choi beomgyu intrigues them, whether they would like to admit it or not.

“y/n! hello?”

y/n shudders away their thoughts and stares blankly at the red light in front of them. their hands grip tightly around the dark leather material around their steering wheel as they glance at their car radio. an ongoing call with their friends that has lasted fifteen minutes.

y/n reaches for their temple as they begin to mindlessly rub circles, waiting for the light to turn green. they kept their word to soobin’s request to call them when they were heading to beomgyu’s house.

“sorry, what happened?”

someone groans in response, y/n’s guess is eliana. her groans were engrained in their head as they were always the receiving end to them.

“we were talking about going to disneyland during winter break,” eliana reminds with no distinction in her voice.

yes, disneyland. of course. y/n readjusts themselves to the mood and the light changes as they do, stepping their foot on the gas pedal.

“right- yeah, i’m on board-”

a howl cuts y/n off mid sentence as each speaker in the vehicle blasts with each rhythm of laughter, that of which belongs to kai. y/n is taken aback momentarily, but it soon hits them that was not the topic of conversation.

“can we actually go, though?” kai genuinely asks once he pulls himself together. soobin agreeingly replies with instinct to satisfy kai in the moment.

“you’re not paying attention,” eliana points out to y/n, seeing right through them despite not being in the car with them. “what’s up, babe?”

y/n makes a U-turn once they realize that they missed the correct street. “sorry guys, i was distracted.”

“y/n, you don’t have to go if you’re not comfortable,” soobin advises which brings a slight smile to y/n’s face. soobin was always protective over them and the whole group appreciated him for it, even if it could be overbearing at times.

“no no, it’s not that,” y/n reassures as they look at their phone mounted on the dashboard to check if this is the right corner to make a turn.

“then what is it?” kai asks with some concern in his voice. being the youngest in the group has always made him worry for his older friends. he was a perfect little brother.

“nothing! trust me,” y/n barely tries to sound convincing. the group looks it over this one time considering that y/n is driving. it would be understandable if their attention wasn’t fully there.

y/n ends the gps navigation as they push the center console to park. “i’m here.”

they haven’t been to beomgyu’s house in years, not since the incident occurred. frankly, the trauma it induced for them made them forget the details of the inside. the patio outside reminisces the other houses in this neighborhood. though it’s dark outside, the beaming stars in the night sky highlight the string of florescent lights that shape the doorway in the front. it’s a nice touch, they remember it made them feel comfortable coming in last time.

“it’s not too late to back out,” soobin says one last time. he’s still nervous for his best friend.

“i’ll be fine soobin,” y/n replies before he continues to go on. they stare at the home and release a whisper. “i hope.”

“okay, well, text us right after,” eliana cautions, bringing out her inner mother role.

a swarm of goodbyes and love you’s were exchanged before the call was ended. y/n detaches their phone from the dashboard and gathers their essentials and soon exit the vehicle. they give their car a lock as they head towards the doorway. each footstep is light, but tense. it’s until now that they see some bear stickers on the door and they can’t help but admire the cuteness. they wonder if that was a recent addition as it wasn’t there the last time.

with a big inhale, they ring the doorbell.

there was a moment of waiting and y/n contemplated ringing it one more time. they remember what eliana said about coming across as desperate, but they never cared about that prior to this. in all honesty, they needed to rely on beomgyu. he was their co-star after all.

why do they now feel this twisting feeling inside their stomach at the thought of being desperate?

y/n hears footsteps approach the door and they straighten their sweater to prepare. they’re wearing a simple white t-shirt that hugs their figure just right with a light blue hooded sweater, courtesy of kai. his clothes were always the comfiest and y/n made it a habit to search through his closet every time they come over. soobin gets slightly pouty at the thought. y/n doesn’t know if it’s because they borrow kai’s clothes, or if he wants to borrow them. the thought makes them chuckle.

fresh conditioned air blows right at y/n’s face as the door opens and the boy stands at the other end. he’s wearing brown plaid pajama bottoms topped with a beige crewneck with a teddy bear in the right corner. that little detail makes y/n think the decor on the door was intentional. a hint of softness makes some way into their heart. they fight the urge to smile.

“hey,” beomgyu greets with a downwards smile. “did you make it over here safe?”

beomgyu’s voice has a naturally tired tone to it. even if he’s not sleepy it always sounds casual and lustful. y/n doesn’t know if it’s always been like this or if they just noticed.

he’s also asking about their safety. who is this guy?

“um, yeah,” y/n replies as they rock their feet back and forth. beomgyu nods and realizes that he has to let them inside so he opens the door all the way and reaches his arm out to gesture the inside. y/n takes the offer.

with each step y/n observes the house as much as they can. it has been a while since they’ve been here but as far as they remember, not much has changed. some furniture has been rearranged and some new decor here and there, but it’s still very much beomgyu’s home. the interior has black and brown elements which gives it a homey feeling. it’s like if autumn and hot chocolate was a home.

just like he said, he did have the house to himself. beomgyu leads them to the kitchen and y/n sees a few family photos plastered on the fridge door. some were just of his parents, others were baby pictures of beomgyu. it seems like he’s always been on the devious side after catching a glance of a young boy pointing a toy gun at the camera with no thought behind his eyes.

y/n glimpses at a group photo with beomgyu, his parents, and an older child. they were posing in front of an amusement park with big grins on their faces. y/n has never seen this other boy before, perhaps it was beomgyu’s brother.

y/n shifts their gaze over to the kitchen counter and sees two bowls of ramen sitting in the center. guess he was being serious about providing them with food. they were starving though.

“i don’t know how you usually eat yours so i just put my fixings on,” beomgyu speaks slightly embarrassed. y/n eyes the bowl a little longer than they intended. they were just trying to piece together why on earth he would make them food.

“relax, i didn’t poison it or anything,” beomgyu jokes while holding the soup in his hands, digging into his first bite with his chopsticks. the idea did cross y/n’s mind, which makes them feel a bit apologetic.

is that how bad they see him?

y/n slowly walks over to the aisle and joins beomgyu. “do you want to work here?”

“we could go to my room,” beomgyu suggests as his eyes hide behind his bowl while he slurps some broth. there was no hint of anything sinister in beomgyu’s voice but the statement still makes y/n’s eyes widen.

“no,” they simply respond faster than they wished. they walk around the counter and sit in one of the spinning chairs where their bowl lays out in front of them. “right here is fine.”

beomgyu shrugs his shoulders and sits down next to them. y/n reaches to their tote bag and pulls out the lengthy script which has notes sticking out from certain areas and highlighted parts to accompany them. beomgyu nearly chokes mid slurp at the sight.

“sooo, how do we do this?” as beomgyu stretches out his question, y/n takes their first bite into their food. just as they feared, it was delicious. so much flavor in everything, but not too overbearing in being salty or spicy. they could attempt to figure out which brand he used, but they’re here for other things.

“well,” y/n finishes swallowing their food. “we could start with any questions you might have.”

“yeah, i’m sure you have all the answers,” beomgyu stiffly laughs as he brings his head forward to the script that centers in front of the two.

y/n feels their cheeks flush red and heat up at the exposure. they hope he doesn’t notice. “i just mean if you need anything to be clarified. it could help you play the role better.”

beomgyu draws in his breath and stares at the stack of papers longingly. throughout his education, he was taught to find the theme of each piece he reads. reading this script has given him an idea of what it could be in this case, but some parts are a bit foggy. he feels self-conscious asking y/n what it is. he doesn’t want them to think he’s an idiot, even though they probably already think he is. they’ve made their dislike for him quite obvious.

“um, i guess,” beomgyu holds his gaze in front but can feel y/n’s eyes on his. his blood pulses through his skin. “what this story is really about, you know, deep down.”

he’s expecting y/n to laugh in his face just like he did to them the other day, but they don’t. instead, y/n understandingly nods as they push their half eaten soup to the side to leave enough room to put their elbows on the table. for some reason, beomgyu finds this endearing. he was always scolded for leaving his elbows on the table. it wasn’t polite, apparently.

“well, ben is at crossroads when he gets into a college with a full basketball scholarship, but also gets into his dream school that would support his performing arts career. no one knows he's interested in that field so it's the good 'ol following the head or heart thing, which i'm always a sucker for.”

beomgyu watches y/n go on about the story for the production, even going over key plots that beomgyu might have missed. he notices there seems to be stars in y/n's eyes as they continue to talk. he can tell that they're speaking from the heart.

“i'm assuming that's the passion concept mrs. kim was going over in class the first day?” beomgyu guesses in thought.

“yeah, ben loves to perform and even plays guitar at some point,” y/n eagerly responds. “which should be easy for you, since you play right?”

beomgyu feels a small smile form on his lips. he quickly covers it up with another bite of his meal.

“wouldn't you consider that your passion?” y/n decides to try to get an answer out of him. it's been bugging them all this time that he hasn't been open about it.

“i know you really enjoy it, beomgyu,” y/n did catch his change in expression earlier. “you must be good at it too. if you admit that's what you're passionate about, it'll help you a ton.”

there's a moment of silence as beomgyu takes in their words and figures out what to do with them. the quiet atmosphere is almost uncomfortable and y/n can't tell if they've overstepped their boundaries. they consider leaving, but they did have an agenda here, and that was to rehearse some of this with beomgyu. instead, they opt for reaching to turn the page.

“i do love playing guitar,” beomgyu promptly admits. “and it is my passion. my uncle gave me my first guitar when i was in middle school and i haven't stopped playing since.”

y/n smiles at the thought of a small beomgyu, who was probably more unhinged than he is now, sitting down and playing a relaxing acoustic guitar. if they were told this years ago, they wouldn't have believed it. the more they look at beomgyu, it suits him. the calluses on certain fingers with those round, deep brown eyes of his focusing on a music sheet. the low husk to his voice covering songs with a beautiful essence.

“why didn't you want to admit it in class?” y/n realizes they needed to speak before it appears they've been staring at the boy for too long.

“because i barely wanted to admit it to myself,” beomgyu responds in full honesty. “my parents just see it as a hobby and don't think it can take me anywhere in life as it's not an official profession.”

y/n recalls the text beomgyu sent about only them and his parents knowing he plays guitar. his last sentence even has them think about their conversations with their dad, that sentiment hits too close to home. y/n chooses not to bring it up to beomgyu. they sit with caution as they wonder how many questions they could ask him.

“there's so many things you could do with that talent,” instead of potentially saying the wrong thing, y/n offers him some possible careers to lift his spirits. “you could be a songwriter, a producer. hey, even when you make it in the big leagues you could be a sound engineer in the blockbuster movies!”

there's a part to y/n's monologue that catches beomgyu's attention.

when you make it in the big leagues.

they didn't say if, they said when. beomgyu has never heard that word in regards to his future. it was always 'if', 'maybe', or any other tense that doubts his passion.

has he gotten his first supporter? and was it someone he has shared a moment so personal as a kiss?

“you said when,” beomgyu decides to bring up the fact.

it takes a moment for y/n to register what he means, but with the astonished expression on his face, the feeling soon settles in on them. y/n has their supporters, it was time for beomgyu to have his. despite how they feel about him and their past history that annoyingly hangs on their head, they weren't a monster. perhaps it was time to see beomgyu in a different light and it appears that they were the only one to do so.

“so throughout the story dae is there for ben to open his eyes in realizing that pursuing his dream is the right path to go,” y/n steers off in a different direction. “since it's romance, of course there has to be a fling between them.”

beomgyu softly smiles to himself picturing the story unfold. “i'm sure ben appreciates dae being there for him and seeing what he can do.”

y/n feels warm as they see beomgyu finally start to understand the plot and it only took them to have an honest conversation. talking with beomgyu wasn't as bad as they expected.

“i'm sure dae loves supporting him through it all when no one else would.”

beomgyu lifts his head up to face y/n who is gazing right back at him. it's the first time their expression isn't written in disgust or annoyance. in fact, it appears to be loving. he wishes it could always be like this.

the moment stretches out a little longer and beomgyu can't help but glance down at y/n's lips. he wonders if it still tastes like cherry chapstick. the red tint they have makes him believe it's still accurate. y/n catches the gesture and coughs down some air as they play with the edges of the paper. they fight the urge to not rip the ends of it and curl them into little balls, a habit they got from kai.

“so…yeonjun and taehyun don't know?” y/n speaks in an airy voice, their eyes still locked on the words written in front of them.

beomgyu doesn't know if they're referring to the guitar thing, or the kiss they shared four years ago.

frankly, y/n isn't sure about what they mean either.

still, beomgyu chooses an answer to please both questions.

“not a single thing.”

y/n hums in response, their lips tight together. beomgyu plays with the chopsticks in his now empty bowl when he hears a voice speak up once again.

“would you be able to play for me?”

beomgyu knows this question is referring to his talent for guitar, and due to the seriousness he's been displaying this entire time now, he switches gears for a lighthearted moment.

“i'll play for you when we go on a date.”

y/n would expect some rage boil down to their stomach, as they would have reacted that way before. this feeling, though? was it butterflies? nervousness? whatever it was, it sure wasn't negative. this night is full of firsts.

“do you…do you want to rehearse some of it now?” y/n clears their throat in between. beomgyu doesn't question their non-response and agrees with a head nod.

…

the two got through the first act right at midnight. to their surprise, beomgyu wasn't that bad at acting. sure, he missed a couple cues that ensued some awkward presentations, but it's nothing they couldn't work on together. they even liked the slight challenge. being co-stars with soobin now seemed too easy for them.

beomgyu was the difference they needed.

“you can be honest, you know,” beomgyu speaks in a playful manner as he finishes the last dish to wash. he hands the bowl for y/n to dry with a damp rag.

“i mean it! you weren't terrible,” y/n chuckles while they reach to put the bowl away in the cupboards.

after beomgyu and y/n finished rehearsing the first half they decided to wash the dishes. y/n didn't even suggest helping him dry, they just did it with no questions asked. still, it was another conversation starter.

“that means a lot coming from you,” beomgyu snickers and reaches for the rag in y/n's hands to dry his own. he smiles at them while looking down at their sweater, noticing a small stain of sauce near the front.

“hey, you got something there,” he points out as y/n glances down at the gesture, mentally cursing in their head. they hated getting their clothes dirty, let alone their borrowed ones from kai.

y/n whines as they reach for a paper towel to attempt to clean it off, only to have beomgyu stop them in between the action.

“you'll make it worse,” beomgyu advises. “i have a washing machine upstairs if you wanted to stay a little while longer.”

y/n would have rejected the offer if it weren't for their washing machine being repaired as they speak. they really loved this sweatshirt, they were hoping to wear it again this week. they scrunch their nose as their left eye slightly squints, thinking about what they should do.

they weren't repulsed by hanging out with beomgyu a little more, but sleep was about to hit them at any moment. it was better if they left now before they accidentally take a nap at a red light.

“i would but i should be getting home,” y/n apologetically responds.

“are you sure? you could give it to me and i'll have it ready for you tomorrow,” beomgyu cringes at the fact that he sounds like a dry cleaner. y/n finds it amusing.

man, how they loved that sweatshirt.

“fine just- don't screw it up,” y/n warns as they slip off the piece of clothing, feeling a breeze hit the bottom of their stomach as it lifts a little along with it.

y/n hands him the sweatshirt warily, hesitating to give it to him all the way, to which beomgyu responds with a deadpan. y/n smiles and ultimately gives it to him, and beomgyu places it on the couch for him to put away later.

y/n walks over to their tote bag and beomgyu suggests walking them outside. part of it was to be a gentleman, but he just wanted to see them drive away safely. y/n wouldn't be aware of the second option.

“don't forget your script next time,” y/n finally instructs him at the door. they're on the outside as beomgyu stays inside, hanging his arm on the doorframe as a slight smirk forms on his face.

“wouldn't count on it, i love this story too much now,” beomgyu doesn't mean to admit the last part, but y/n can't help but cheese at the statement.

“i'm glad to hear that,” y/n crosses their arms with a grin as they take a few steps back, ready to head to their vehicle.

“i'll give you updates on your sweater when i text you,” beomgyu calls out to them. “goodnight, drive safe.”

y/n sends over two thumbs up and begins to back up once they're inside their car. beomgyu doesn't head inside until they're completely out of his sight.

…

y/n doesn't fall asleep as quickly as they would've thought. they've been spending the past hour mindlessly scrolling through their feed, feeling their eyes blink slowly each time.

how could they sleep when tonight went better than they thought?

a notification appears at the top that brings a grin ear to ear and it's at this moment they realize one thing.

there would be no false promises between them and beomgyu.

there would be no more 'if's'.

please do not translate, modify or repost on other platforms.

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taegularities · 2 years

Note

My whole life (since that Dynamite dance practice) I was a strong advocate for the Howl/Jungkook agenda. But Taehyung today?? You know… the post after THAT post??? Ugh he wants me dead I swear

woah the dynamite dance practice.... i remember what u mean and it was 10000% howl jk @.@ BUT TBH TBH...... seeing blond tae had me trapped in my little howl!tae cube for AGES, i'm dying on that hill

#still laughing at the fact that both howl tae asks came in one after the other #notes for rid 🌹#anon #edited in the pics cos i had to

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blue-sadie · 7 months

Text

.Random.

.Request Page.

A place for my different fandoms brain rots

Platonic = 🌼 Fluff = 🌺 Smut =🌹 Lime = ⚘️ Angst = 🥀 Yandere = 🍁

Anime

Imagines.

(H) kakeru Sengoku - Her Little Merman 🌺

(H) Keishin Ukai - Assistant Manager 🌹

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(LOK) Mako & Bolin - Brothers Charm 🌹

(MHA) Katsuki Bakugo - Silly Nicknames 🌺

(MHA) Shota Aizawa - Villainous Love 🌹

(MHA) Shota Aizawa - Little Helper 🌹

Combo.

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(H) Asahi Azumane - Pregnant Hungry 🌺

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NSFW/SFW Alphabet.

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(QFC) Garrett Touch Says All 🌺

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(A&TAE) Dimitri & Cale Tucker - The Tucker Twins 🌹

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Hayden Christen - Yn Moment 🌺 Jamie Flatters - Admiring The Interviewer 🌺

Henry Cavill - Distraction 🌺

Oscar Isaac - Wavering 🌺

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Jamie Flatters,Tedros Pendragon,Neteyam - One Room 🌹

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Jack Champion - Past Experiences 🥀🌺

Jamie Flatters - Attention Thief 🌺

Jamie Flatters - Bakery Girl 🌺

Jamie Flatters - When Fate Intervenes 🌺

Stephen Lang Hard At Work. Prt 2 🌺

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Avatar Cast - Dream Come True 🌺

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Headcanons.

NSFW/SFW Alphabet.

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(BG3) Astarion - Love From Cold Lips 🌹

(BG3) Astarion - For Your Pleasure 🌹

(BG3) Astarion - Flaunting Treasures 🌹

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(BG3) Halinsin - Size Difference 🌹

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(TLOU) Joel Miller - The Tiredness 🌹

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(BG3)Astarion & Halsin - Vampire And The Bear ⚘️

(BG3) Astarion & Gale - Love From The Gods 🌹

(BG3) Astarion & Harleep - Jealous Much 🌹

(HL) Sebastian & Ominus - Bros Before... 🥀🌺

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(BG3) Ascended Astarion - Truly Broken 🥀

(BG3) Astarion - My Darling Baker 🌺

(HL) Sebastian Sallow - Lace Me Up 🌺

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(BG3) Astarion & Halsin - Lust Filldd Touches 🌹

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(BG3)God Astarion & God Gale -Praises From The Gods🌹

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(BG3) halsin - NSFW

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(A) Kane - Stop Your Breath 🌺🌹

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(It) Bowers Gang - Plaid Skirts 🌹

(MR) Newt - Second In Command 🌺

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(RH) Prince John - Fall From Grace 🌺

(T) Paul Lahote - Second Head 🌺

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(FG) Walter Mckey (keys) - Cuter Then Puppies 🌺

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(TF) Santiago Garcia & Frankie Morales - Movement Of The Hips 🌹

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(F) Savitar - A New Day Has Dawned 🍁

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(TVD) Stephen Salvatore - The Classics 🌺

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(OUAT) Peter Pan & Felix - Princess Treatment 🌹

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(TW) Stiles Stilinski & Scott Mccal - Rain Check 🌹

(TVD) Damon and Stephen - Elana Really... 🌼🌺

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taey0ngsvape · 1 year

Text

everything has changed - taeyong

“you’ll be mine and i’ll be yours”

pairing: taeyongxreader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

contains: reader uses she/her pronouns, best friend mark, pining taeyong, getting together, reader’s love language is physical touch, kissing, tooth rotting fluff

summary: taeyong has admired you for as long as he can remember, but as his feelings for you change, he knows that he can’t keep them hidden anymore.

Taeyong watches your head fall back as you laugh at something Mark just said. A small smile plays onto his lips as your shoulders shake from the force of your laughter.

He loves your laugh. He loves everything about you actually, but your laugh was the first thing he really noticed after he first met you. Mark had been the one to introduce the two of you and from that first day, Taeyong thought you were beautiful and funny and kind, and his feelings for you had only intensified since then as he got to know you better.

He likes spending time with you and Mark, because Mark was your best friend and he knew how to make you laugh. Sure, Taeyong wishes he could be the one making you laugh, but as long as he gets to see the joyful expression on your face, he doesn’t really mind.

You turn to him, a wide smile on your face and his breath hitches. You look absolutely radiant and the way you’re looking at him is full of such fondness that it makes his stomach flip. “What do you think Tae?” you ask.

“About what?” he asks, because he hasn’t actually been paying attention to the conversation for at least five minutes now.

You playfully roll your eyes. “Are you even listening?”

“Yes!” Taeyong says defensively.

“Well, we were talking about whether Sophie from Howl’s Moving Castle is better than Chihiro from Spirited Away. I think we’ve come to the conclusion that Sophie is considerably less annoying.”

“Chihiro was only a kid,” Taeyong points out. “Sophie had like… life experience.”

“But if you had to choose,” you say.

Taeyong shrugs. “I pick both.”

“See! I told you,” Mark says and immediately you turn back to him, continuing the conversation (that was really more of an argument). It was lighthearted and full of laughter and Taeyong is more than content to watch two people he loves enjoy each other’s company.

Eventually, Mark has to leave, so Taeyong walks you back to your apartment. You loop your arm through his, something he’s become used to over the months you’ve known each other. You tend to be touchy with others, especially your friends. Every time you walk together, you’re always holding onto him in some way, whether it be resting your hand on his arm or intertwining your fingers.

“Are you okay?” you ask, looking up at Taeyong, who has been deep in thought ever since you started the walk.

“Of course,” he says, like it’s a reflex. And it is true for the most part, except for the fact that he’s helplessly in love with you and has been for a while now, which is something he can never tell you. He can’t lose you, because as much as he’s attracted to you, you’re his friend first and he can’t imagine his life without you.

“You just seemed a little… out of it, I guess,” you say. “You’re thinking about something. What is it?”

Taeyong doesn’t meet your eyes, afraid that if he does he’ll spill everything. “It’s nothing,” he says.

You sigh softly. “You know you can talk to me right? I’m your friend.”

And that’s the problem, he thinks to himself. You’re his friend and that’s it.

“I want to help. Just let me into that pretty head of yours,” you say and his cheeks flush at the word ‘pretty.’

“It’s nothing,” he says gently. “Don’t worry about me.”

He slings an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to him. You lean into his touch and he can’t help but feel like this is right. This is how it’s supposed to be.

But it’s not.

And that’s the problem.

He resists telling Mark until the last possible moment. He’s perfectly fine with keeping his feelings to himself, but eventually he can’t bottle them up anymore. He needs someone to talk to and there’s no one better than Mark, who’s not only his friend, but yours as well. If anyone is going to understand why Taeyong loves you so much, it’s Mark.

“Is everything alright?” is the first thing Mark asks him when they meet up to talk. All Taeyong had told him ahead of time was that he needed someone to talk to and that he trusted Mark the most.

“It’s nothing bad,” Taeyong assures quickly. “But I need you to promise that you’re going to keep this to yourself. This is something really personal and I don’t want anyone else knowing about it.”

“Of course dude,” Mark says. “This is your business, no one else’s.”

Taeyong smiles. “Thank you.”

Mark waits patiently as Taeyong gathers his thoughts, figuring out what he’s going to say, but in the end it proves to be completely futile because he just ends up blurting out, “I’m in love with (y/n).”

Mark looks a little surprised at first, so Taeyong keeps talking. “I have been for a while now. She’s just… I mean you know her better than anyone. You know that she’s kind and sweet. You know that she makes people laugh and can brighten anyone’s day. You already know that she’s loveable. And falling in love with her was easy. And now I don’t know what to do.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Mark says, and he offers Taeyong a smile. “And for the record, this makes me really happy. I love you and I love (y/n) and I’m glad you love her too.”

Taeyong mirrors Mark’s smile and looks down at his lap.

“You know,” Mark laughs, “Before I introduced you, I was afraid you weren’t going to get along. And I love both of you so much and I was so scared that you weren’t going to like each other. So personally, this is like… the best possible outcome.”

“Aside from the fact that she only sees me as a friend,” Taeyong points out.

“Have you told her how you feel?” Mark asks. Taeyong shakes his head. “Then how do you know that?”

Taeyong gives him a look that says, come on man, be serious. “She asked me what was going on the other day and told me I could tell her anything because we’re friends. She only sees me as a friend.”

Mark looks at him sympathetically. “I think you should tell her man. There’s no real way to know unless you do.”

Taeyong shakes his head. He can’t.

Unfortunately for him, things don’t go as planned. As he falls harder, deeper, he quickly realizes that he can’t keep living like this. He can’t keep watching you laugh while not being able to pull you into his arms. He can’t keep looking at you as you smile at him while not being able to close the space between you and feel your lips against his own.

Which is new. Sure, the thought of kissing you had crossed his mind a few times, but recently it’s become all he can think about. You own what seems like 30 different chapsticks, all of them flavored differently and he wants to taste every one. He wants to cup your face in his hands and bring your lips to his, kissing you until he’s out of breath. Recently, it’s the only thing he wants.

So he tells Mark.

“You should talk to her soon,” he says. “You know she’s going home for a month in like... two weeks. I don’t mean to pressure you, but the clock is ticking.”

Which is how Taeyong ends up on your doorstep not even two hours later. He thought about buying flowers, but figured that was too much.

Once he knocks, he’s only waiting for a few seconds before the lock clicks and the door opens. You peek out and when you see him standing there you smile. Opening the door, you step aside so he can enter your apartment.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you say, making your way over to the couch and patting the cushion next to you, beckoning him to come and sit down.

“I need to tell you something,” Taeyong says, cutting right to the chase. The butterflies in his stomach are going wild and he’s avoiding your gaze. He isn’t sure he can look at you when he says it, too afraid of your reaction. A look of disappointment, rejection. He’s not sure he could take it.

“Okay,” you say, and you put your hand on his knee, the smallest of touches but it makes him feel warm all over. “What is it?”

Taeyong opens his mouth, and then closes it again.

“I don’t have to give you the ‘you can always trust me’ talk again, right? You know you can tell me anything. I’m here to listen to your problems because I’m your friend.”

Taeyong sighs. “That is the problem.”

You go quiet for a moment before asking, “What do you mean?”

“You’re my friend,” he says. “Just my friend. But I… I can’t help myself. I just wish you were more.”

“More?” you ask softly, and finally, he looks at you.

For a moment, he’s breathless. You look the same as you do every day, hair a little messy, wearing a big t-shirt that’s probably Mark’s, but you look beautiful to Taeyong. And he knows he’s helplessly in love with you. He can’t keep pretending that he isn’t.

So he says it. “I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes widen, but you don’t lean away from him or reject him, at least not immediately.

“I wanted to keep it to myself. I didn’t—I don’t—want to ruin our friendship. But every time I see you I just… I wish you were mine. And I can’t keep thinking like this without telling you how I feel.”

“Tae…”

“You don’t have to like me back. You don’t owe me anything. I just wanted you to know how I feel. And I’m sorry if this ruins things between us, but I hope it doesn’t because first and foremost, I like being your friend.”

“I like being your friend too,” you say. “But I’d like to be more too. I want to be yours. If you’ll have me.”

Taeyong is so surprised that he sits there shocked for a second, unable to speak. But once your words sink in he can’t stop himself from breaking into a wide smile. “I’d love that,” he says. “I’ll be yours for as long as you want me.”

You break into an identical smile. “I can’t see the future, but I imagine I’ll want you for a very long time.”

He blushes, and before he can back out, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering him, you lean over and press your lips against his. It’s just a quick peck, testing the waters. He doesn’t even realize it’s happening until it’s already over, and it isn’t enough. Almost instantly, he’s cupping your cheeks in his hands and pulling you back to him, kissing you tenderly, much deeper than before.

It’s everything he imagined and more. He swipes his tongue over your lower lip and is met with the faint taste of strawberries. Your lips part, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, and it takes everything in him not to groan into the kiss. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

When you break apart, you’re both breathless and Taeyong doesn’t let go of you, instead gently stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

“You are so beautiful,” he tells you because he can. He can tell you all the things he’s been thinking all these months.

You smile at him. “So are you. Sometimes it takes my breath away,” you admit.

He laughs. “Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

When he lets go of you, you snuggle into his side and almost instinctively he wraps an arm around you, holding you close to him. It feels so right and he loves it.

“Wanna watch something?” you ask.

“Sure,” he says. “You pick.”

“Only if you promise not to complain.”

“Then you better pick something good,” he teases.

As you scroll through various options he presses a kiss to the top of your head and smiles to himself, his heart filled with love.

Two weeks later, he’s at the airport with you, waiting at the gate for you to board your flight. You’ve been holding his hand for the past hour and he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb gently while you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

As your boarding group is called, you stand up and stretch. Taeyong stands and pulls you into his arms. For a few seconds, all you do is stand in each other’s embrace and Taeyong presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m going to miss you,” he says, unafraid to admit it.

“I’ll miss you too,” you say with a soft smile. “But I’ll text you every day and call you as often as I can. It’s only a month.”

Taeyong sighs, looking at you.

“It’ll be over before you know it,” you tell him and as you smile, so does he.

You lean in pressing your lips to his and he rests his hands on your hips as you kiss. You break away before he wants to, but he knows you don’t have all the time in the world.

“I love you,” he says.

It just kind of slips out, but he doesn’t regret saying it. He means it. He loves you and has for a while.

For a moment, you’re stunned, before you smile and say, “I love you too.”

He smiles at you, brushing some hair out of your face.

He kisses you one more time before you give him one last hug and then grab your suitcase and head for the boarding tunnel. You wave goodbye and he waves back, waiting until you disappear around the corner.

Before turning to leave the airport, he sends you a text.

Text me when you land. I love you

As he’s leaving the airport doors, his phone buzzes and he glances down at the screen to a text from you.

I love you too

He smiles at the screen before slipping his phone back into his pocket, a sense of warmth filling his chest. You love him. And it’s a wonderful feeling.

#nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fic #nct127 fanfic #taeyong fanfic #taeyong fluff #taeyong fic #taeyong scenarios

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