#i feel like im getting less and less able to manage it and then putting out less and less | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Post activity is at the highest at 4:00 pm EDT; notes peak at 10:00 pm EDT.

#i feel like im getting less and less able to manage it and then putting out less and less

casual-eumetazoa · 1 year

Text

I’m re-reading the 25k-ish words that I’ve written for FrankensteinWIP so far and man, it’s been so long since I actually enjoyed reading back my own text. It’s not the kind of literary prose I wish I could do, but it’s so distinctnly mine, and this book in general is such a self-indulgent project, it makes me happy just to work on it.

On the other hand, I’m realizing more and more that I can’t juggle PhD school, youtube, and writing all at the same time. And logically I should prioritize youtube over writing because it has at least some sort of potential to become my full time job, but it hurts so much to post these videos that I spend months on and get like, a couple hundred views and 10 comments. So I would much rather focus on novels, but it makes me feel guilty. I feel like I haven’t had any sort of success with youtube yet because I don’t try hard enough, don’t post often enough, etc etc.

Doing the PhD is great because my workload is not insane, I get paid pretty well, and I love the people at my institute. I do have to manage my energy levels incredibly well and I end up burn out every few months anyway, but I make it work. Still, eventually I will graduate and will need to get a real job... and I don’t know if I can do it. Like, I don’t know if I will be able to hold a full-time post-doc position, especially a tenure track one. Especially if my chronic illnesses will keep detereorating.

I’m hoping that after I graduate I will be able to scrape enough science writing and tutoring hours together to work part-time from home, and have time for youtube and writing. Doesn’t look very achievable now cause any freelance like this requires self-promo, and it seems like I really suck at it. But a boy can dream I guess.

#personal #random #not my best few weeks tbh #some good things are happening like #i had a whole bunch of scares about my legal stay here but it was granted a couple days ago #so a year from now i'll be able to apply for citizenship and then actually change my legal name as well #but yeah. constantly feeling like i have no energy to do the things i love #and screaming into the void with creative stuff #are both not very fun #im in a discord server with a whole bunch of video essayists #and literally everyone has more subs than me. out of like. 20-30 people #we were all shouted out in the same way by bigger youtubers - once - and it did kinda help #like going from 100 subs to 400 is definitely something #and that video got around 2k views now #but that's basically it #everyone else manages to network and put out more stuff and collaborate and shout each other out #i get some likes maybe. occcasionally a comment #no one has ever shared me on their community page. not even when they collab with me #and i feel like my videos dont do well in the algorithm cause people just dont click on videos that have less than 1k views #so im just kinda stuck. i can't like #outright beg to be shared or reblogged #i do what i can and it doesn't work #so i really just want to give up #cause after 2 years of pouring my heart an soul into every video they are still going nowhere #but im constantly tortured by the what if #cause every next video might be The One #it feels like querying all over again #anyway idk why im typing all this #not a good few weeks. especially the last few days...

4 notes · View notes

blitzyn · 3 months

Text

prospect

toji fushiguro x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> sighs and explodes i need this man injected in my blood right NOW. nobody will be able to convince me that this man doesn’t have a breeding kink. sometimes i forget im writing for real people on a real platform and it jump scares me when people comment on my work. but in a good way ofc i love seeing people’s thoughts on my stuff. ANYWAYS. REQS.

wc -> 4.7k words of filth LMAO

cw -> anal fingering, anal sex, spit as lube, throat fucking, using “pussy” and “cunt” as a synonym, mild impact play, breeding kink, mirror sex, finger hooking, bondage, begging, brief gun play, when i say “little” i mean that in a condescending sorta way and not bc the reader is described to be petite and tiny, not beta read obv

"You're a tricky one, I'll give you that," is the first thing the man before you said. It'd been quite a while since the first time the two of you met in a dingy bar hidden in the sketchier parts of town. He hadn't been trying to kill you then - he was but a fellow patron eager to ruin his liver. Originally, he had a strange gut feeling about you. Like a pretty thing like you wasn't all it seemed, but he shrugged it off after a well-placed look from you offering to buy a couple more rounds.

So when he's given another job, the first thing he does is laugh. He didn't really mean it at first, but really, the irony was hilarious. The guy he nearly got to fuck was his current target: [Name] [L.Name], a rising Jujutsu Sorcerer. He obviously wasn't as strong as the esteemed Gojo Satoru or Geto Suguru, but he was advancing a little faster than many would've liked.

"Thanks. I tried," you replied, seeming much too relaxed for a man about to be assassinated. You were currently stuck on the floor with your arms tied behind your back and your legs bound together by plain, old, ordinary rope. You were a little embarrassed, truthfully, to have been caught by such a mundane trap like this.

You struggled against your restraints a bit, sighing in defeat when you only served to remind yourself just how stuck you were. "These are pretty secure," you started, giving the man before you a laidback smirk. "You experienced?"

Toji gave you a quizzical look for a moment before breaking out in an amused grin, resting his handgun against his shoulder. He definitely wasn't expecting his target to start flirting with him instead of pleading for his life like he was used to. But he'll entertain you for a while. "You could say that."

You huffed through your nose, your eyes lazily flitting around the room. You were making your way back inside the abandoned building you chose to hide in when you suddenly found yourself tied up. It took you a moment to realize you couldn't move when he appeared in front of you, but even less to recognize him as the man you almost got to sleep with. "I would've loved to have you tie me up back then, but this wasn't really what I was thinking about."

"Your phone's a real cockblock, huh?" He chuckled lightly, in an almost mocking manner from what you managed to detect in his voice. "Can't even begin to imagine how long you've had to go without gettin' laid."

You rolled your eyes like he wasn't only there to kill you and get his money. "Don't get me started. There's always something new I have to kill every fuckin' second. My boss thinks it's great training to go out whenever I can."

Right. Technically, you weren't a fully-fledged Sorcerer. You had more of a vigilante-esque vibe to you. You hadn't attended either Jujutsu High School in Tokyo or Kyoto as well, only taught by your family and experiences. Not that that really mattered anyway. You fought, you got strong, and now someone put a hit on you.

You sighed, shifting your body to a more comfortable position before tilting your head back against the wall. “This is the part where I beg for my life, right?” You questioned rhetorically, with an almost bored expression on your face before your eyes lit up with an idea. “I’m not too good at that, but I am good at begging for something else.”

Toji raised an eyebrow in intrigue, unable to fight off the grin at the obvious implication. He didn’t stop you from shamelessly checking him out, but he cut your ogle session short regardless.

“Yeah? Care to elaborate?” He made his way closer, crouching in front of you to get a better view of your face. He knew what you were asking for. He just wanted to know if you’d follow through with it.

Maybe it was the adrenaline making you bold, knowing that he could easily kill you with the pull of a trigger—or maybe it was just because he was really fucking hot. With a quick, obvious glance to his crotch (you could see the imprint of his dick through his sweatpants), you spoke clearly. “I want you to fuck me.”

He liked how forward you were, how unafraid you were to say what you wanted. He swiped his tongue over his lips and nearly laughed at how your eyes darted downwards to watch it. “You call that beggin’?” He taunted, raising his arm to press the tip of his gun against your chin to tilt your head up. “Do it right.”

A shudder ran through your body at his demand, leaving a trail of heat that settled right into your groin. You felt hyper aware of everything—of the cool metal on your skin, of the faint gunpowder scent emanating from the barrel, of your heartbeat thrumming so hard you briefly wondered if he could hear it.

“Oh, please, Mr. Fushiguro,” you whined, staring up at him through your lashes pleadingly. You tried to squeeze your thighs together as you squirmed, attempting to provide your hardening dick friction. “Please fuck me. I’ve been thinking about this whole time. I need it so much.”

“Well, aren’t you a confident little thing,” he remarked with a thoughtful hum, carefully inspecting your reactions. “But what makes you think I won’t just kill you and get my money?”

“Because you haven’t yet,” you replied with a smug undertone in your voice, like you figured him all out. Although, when he dragged his gun up towards your lips, a brief wave of fear washed down your body, settling deep in your chest.

“Really? That’s all you’re going off of?” He tilted his head, watching you through the dark curtain of hair that fell over his piercing eyes. “That’s cute.” He held his finger over the trigger, teasingly flexing it before relaxing just as fast. He found it funny how your confident facade slipped away the moment you remembered that you weren’t talking to a casual friend—that the Sorcerer Killer himself was staring you down the barrel of his gun. But, apparently, that’s what got you all hot and bothered.

“I didn’t think you’d be this desperate.” His scarred lips curled upwards in a predatory grin as he nudged the tip of his gun against your mouth, prying it open. You fought the urge to squirm when he pushed it further, jaw straining, but you tried your best to comply. “You seemed all mysterious ‘n’ unassuming back at the bar. What happened to that? Got me feelin’ like I got the wrong person with the way you’re actin’.”

You tried to shake your head while a garbled noise left your throat, but he kept you firmly in place as he pushed it as far as he could go. Even as you squinted, it was hard not to practically eyefuck him where you sat. Your watery irises trailed over the length of his arm, tracing the bulging veins that patterned over his forearm, dipping back underneath his skin before reappearing in his thick bicep. His shirt did little to hide his chest, squeezing in just the right places to render any woman jealous.

You couldn’t stop your gaze from wandering down, down towards his legs, zeroing in on the dick print he so obviously flaunted like a trophy. Your mouth watered, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. You slid your tongue over the rough metal, imagining that it was his cock stretching your eager throat wide open; imagining the salty taste of his precum, of the scent of his musk, of—

“My eyes’re up here, pretty boy,” he interrupted, pressing the gun up against your palate to snap you out of your stupor and avert your gaze. “If you’re gonna deny bein’ a slut, at least act like it.”

He pulled it out of your drooling mouth, wiping the string of saliva off on your cheek before setting it on the floor with a dull thud. Your face was messy, chest heaving up and down as you panted, expectantly waiting for him to continue like a lost puppy.

“You’re so damn easy,” he commented teasingly, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants. It throbbed under his touch, leaking precum and straining against the fabric. “If I’da known all it took for you to get all nice ‘n’ compliant f’me was a dick down your throat, I’d have my money by now.” There was a hint of honesty to his voice that you couldn’t even find in yourself to protest.

“Please…” you breathlessly whined, trying to writhe out of your binds, but it was tied too tightly around your body to free yourself. “I want it. Stop messing with me.”

“I know.” He reached down to shift you onto your knees, steadying you with a firm hand on the back of your neck. You watched him slide his free hand under his pants to pull his thick cock out, eyes fixated on the leaking tip. He wrapped it around the shaft and leisurely jerked himself off, the wet sounds of his precum sliding along the shaft mixing in with your labored breaths and his quiet groans.

Finally, after what felt like decades, he shuffled forward just enough to press himself against your lips, finding little need to nudge his way inside when you so eagerly parted them for him. You let out a pleased noise at the taste of his precum, beginning to squint and fight the urge to gag when he refused to stop until your nose was buried in his pubes. He held you there for a moment, enjoying the sight of your throat bulging to accommodate his cock.

“You’re takin’ me in so easily,” he purred, sighing in satisfaction at the feeling of your tongue tracing over a prominent vein, making him twitch in your mouth. “Is this what you do? Use your body to live a little longer? 'Cause I gotta say, whatever you're doin' is really payin' off."

You visibly preened at his praise, feeling your dick strain against the fabric of your pants. He let you move at your own pace, watching you hollow your cheeks and slide and bob your head up and down. He was thick and long and made your jaw ache in the best way, utterly infatuated with his scent, with his taste, with the way he let you go at your own pace—but you knew better. You knew that he could easily take that control away from you and fuck your face.

You kind of wished he did, honestly.

With a bit of effort, you pulled away from his cock, breathing heavily. Your voice was shaky but it was firm, determined to get what you wanted. “Fuck my throat,” you demanded, staring up at him through your lashes. He gave you an intrigued smile, clearly pleased with your eagerness to be used like a toy.

“You sure? ‘Cause I’m not stoppin’ til I cum,” he warned. He hardly gave you enough time to reply before he held the base of his cock, gently tapping the tip against your slick lips to get you to open up wide again, obviously unconcerned with your response. “But if you really insist, then who am I to say no to a pretty thing like you?”

He adjusted his stance, towering over you with both his hands atop your head. He allowed you to take a deep breath before pulling you to him just as he shoved his cock back down your throat. You were still unused to him, nearly choking at the sudden movement, feeling tears pool along your lashes. You could’ve sworn his musk was an actual aphrodisiac. It was all you could smell, filling up your nostrils to render your mind a pathetically fuzzy mess.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he drawled out, staring you down with enough heat in his eyes to practically glue you to the floor. You weren’t even sure if you’d get up and leave if he gave you the chance to. Probably not, frankly. Not with the way his strong hands so easily kept you in place, nor with how he strained your jaw—infatuated with every inch and vein and his salty precum. “Take it all, baby.”

He chuckled to himself, not bothering to hide the condescension in his voice. “But I didn’t need to tell you that, huh? Is this muscle memory takin’ over?” Despite his words, his brows were furrowed, focused on thrusting his hips, stoking the rising fire in his abdomen. His rhythmic groans were music to your ears, mixing in with your wet gags and the faint sound of his balls slapping your chin.

“Fuck,” he panted, taking one hand off to wipe your hair off of your forehead and get a look at your watery, unfocused eyes. It sent a heat down his spine that made his cock jolt at the sight of your blissed out face. “You’re so damn tight… gonna make me cum.”

“Is that what you want?” He grunted, digging his fingertips into your skin. “Y’think it’s what you deserve?” For a moment, you were worried he was going to stop. But he didn’t really, instead he kept you still, holding you at a distance to make sure you didn’t accidentally pass out. “I wanna hear you beg for it.”

You blinked your tears away and looked up at him, squinting, confused when he hadn’t let you go yet. It took you a second to piece together what he wanted of you, and felt the burn of embarrassment trickle down your spine and settle into your chest when you did. He wanted you to beg with his cock in your mouth. You were quiet, unsure how to respond without choking and coughing into next week.

“C’mon,” he persisted, his scarred lips lifting in a grin. “I know a little slut like you can do it.”

With a deep breath, you attempted to get your words out through muffled sounds that very vaguely sounded like sentences. It was humiliating—letting him use you to entertain himself like this, but it was an exhilarating feeling that made your cock twitch and throb, aching to be touched.

“Sorry, what was that?” He questioned mockingly, expression laced with faux concern. “Do you mind repeating that?”

You paused, staring up at him pleadingly, but when that didn’t seem to work, you tried again. Drool seeped out the corners of your lips, trailing down your chin. It was hard to breathe and form coherent thoughts. Your cock throbbed and ached to be touched, finding your pants to be uncomfortably suffocating.

“Was that so hard?” He questioned rhetorically as he tugged your face close again, savoring the feeling of your throat squeezing around his dick before beginning to fuck it. He groaned when he felt you run your tongue over the veins, the vibrations of your voice sending heat through his body that he eagerly chased.

He swore under his breath, panting, focused on the tightening coil in his abdomen. “Shit—I’m about to—fuck—cum.”

You moaned when you felt him still, pressing your face into his pelvis to make sure every drop of his cum went down your throat. It was difficult to swallow, letting your eyes flutter shut until he was finished. Your vision was a bit blurry when he finally decided to pull away, leaving you gasping and panting.

“I want—I need you to fuck me,” you slurred, desire flashing brightly in your eyes. Your voice was raw and hoarse and raspy, but there was no hiding your desperation. “Please. I need it so bad it fucking hurts. Please, Fushiguro.”

“I just got done cumming down your throat and you’re already askin’ for more?” He chuckled condescendingly, reaching out to swipe the pad of his thumb along your chin to gather the mix of saliva cum. He brought it to your lips, watching you wrap them around his finger and suck the fluids off his skin. “You needy whore. You’re lucky I’m not in any rush right now.”

With a swift hand, he untied the rope holding your legs together to lead you to a different spot, confident that you wouldn’t make a break for it. Not that you could nor wanted to, anyways.

The mirror before you was dusty and cracked, but it still served its purpose well. He kicked your legs apart and brought you back down to your knees, lowering himself behind you with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You nearly came on the spot when he squeezed your aching cock, hips jerking needily, but he let go in the blink of an eye to unzip your pants and bring them down far enough to expose your ass. He brought two fingers to your lips and dipped them inside your mouth with his other hand, coating them with your saliva rather haphazardly.

He swiftly brought them back down, running them over your balls and perineum teasingly, grinning at your sharp intake of breath. He slid the pads of them over your hole, just barely pushing them through to feel the resistance give way before pulling them back out.

“I swear to god, I’ll—“ you tried to threaten, only to be cut off by a whorish moan that Toji managed to tear from your lips when he shoved his fingers inside you. They pressed against your prostate, firm and unrelenting, rubbing it just the slightest bit to keep you reeling. The sudden stretch fucking burned as you clamped down on him like a vice, wincing and groaning.

“You’ll what?” He urged, eyes fixated on your face, watching every single muscle twitch, noticing the way your cock spurt a fresh stream of precum down the throbbing shaft. “C’mon, don’t get all shy on me now. What were you saying?”

He thrust his fingers in and out slowly, emphasizing the wet squelching sounds of your asshole. You could feel his breaths brushing against your heated skin, sending shivers up and down your spine that ended in your fingertips. Your knees ached and your arms were growing numb from being tied back for so long but you figured you could ignore it for a little while longer if it meant you’d get what you wanted. His dick, namely.

“I’ll—agh, fuck—I’ll…” you trailed off, hardly able to form a coherent sentence with the way he massaged your prostate so perfectly. “Just… just shut up,” you muttered finally, breathless and unfocused as you stared at the spot you connected from the reflection in the old mirror. A subtle feeling of embarrassment settled in your heaving chest when you heard the raspy sound of his chuckle.

“Is that it?” He taunted, locking eyes with you. His free hand slid upwards, teasing your nipples through your shirt to watch you squirm. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight. I’m startin’ to question whether or not you’re really some hotshot Sorcerer.”

It was hard to refute him when you looked the way you did—all messy and disheveled and desperate, hard for the man supposed to kill you. You were completely unlike yourself hardly half an hour ago, but you barely gave a shit. How could you when the hottest man you’ve ever seen was behind you, fingerfucking your eager hole? Chances like these don’t come often to you, that’s for sure.

You shivered and moaned, leaning back against his chest. Your hips practically moved on their own accord, thighs flexing to keep yourself upright as you tried to fuck yourself on his thick digits. Toji could see the way your eyes unfocused and glossed over with understimulated tears, frustrated and horribly pent-up.

He gave your prostate a quick jab, firm enough to intensify the heated coil in your belly, but too fast to savor. He wasn’t planning on giving in to you so easily as he avoided your sensitive spot, instead moving his fingers in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.

“God—stop doing that,” you pleaded. You felt like an open book, unable to stop yourself from furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance or conceal the painstakingly obvious glint of hunger in your pupil-blown irises.

“Quit whinin’ and maybe I’ll consider it,” he murmured gruffly, enraptured by the way you writhed and squirmed and looked just downright pathetic. You both knew he wouldn’t, not when all the others he’s fucked couldn’t hold a candle to your pliant little body. You knew why he was there in the first place, but still, you remained there on your knees even when he untied them.

You nearly let out a sob when he curled his fingers again, offering you the barest of touches to your prostate that sent liquid fire coursing through your veins.

“Fuck, please,” you begged, yet again. You didn’t know much of this you could take or how long it’d be until he caved. God, was it so much to ask for a man to fuck you stupid?!

“I want your cock inside me so bad, fucking me fast ‘n’ hard ‘n’ deep,” you slurred, hardly able to maintain even the barest shred of dignity. You looked into his deep, green eyes through the mirror’s reflection, hoping he’d relent.

“Yeah? Y’want me in this slutty pussy?” He purred, sliding his slick fingers out of your twitching hole to give it a sharp slap. You jolted just as a spurt of precum slid down your hard cock, leaking onto your clothed, heaving abdomen. He chuckled breathlessly as he leisurely rubbed your puffy rim with the pad of a finger. “You should’ve just said so.”

He wiped his fingers off on the back of your shirt, offering you an oblivious shrug when you glared at him through the mirror. Your knees ached when he had you lean forward a little, placing your more of your weight on the poor joints as he reached down to quickly jerk himself off before tapping the tip of his dick on your asshole one, two, three quick times.

It felt like he was splitting you apart when he finally decided to push through after spitting on your hole, groaning at the way you squeezed around him tighter than a damn virgin. It hurt like a bitch. Of course it did—you made him rush and he was using less than ideal lube, but, God, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t feel so fucking good.

You watched him lean back a little and hold you by the ropes binding your arms together, rolling his hips experimentally, only to grind his cockhead into your prostate so deliciously you saw stars. A searing heat enveloped your body, blinding you with white that took you far too long to come down from. Opening your eyes (you didn’t even realize you closed them), you instantly spotted your twitching cock drooling cum onto the floor. Fuck. He didn’t even start and you came.

“That was so damn fast.” He couldn’t be bothered to stop the hint of a laugh from leaving his throat. With his free hand, he reached down and gave your throbbing dick a squeeze, stroking it with a tight grip to milk out the rest of your cum.

You shuddered and trembled, biting your lip to stifle your moans. He let go to stuff two of his slick fingers in your mouth, careless with how deep he forced them in. Not that you really minded as you swirled your tongue around his skin, readily cleaning it off. You locked eyes, keeping your expression firm in a weak attempt to regain even a sliver of composure when he suddenly moved, giving you a quick, harsh thrust that nearly knocked the air out of your lungs.

He shifted his fingers, curling them as they pulled on your cheek, tugging at the flesh until he forces your mouth wide open. You couldn’t stop your tongue from lolling out, jaw slack as you drooled and whined and cried every time he rammed his thick cock into your eager fuckhole. He was relentless—pounding into you fast and hard and deep, just like you begged for so prettily.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, digging his fingertips into the flesh of your hip hard enough to leave bruises, arms flexing to yank you back as soon as he pulled out. “Your pussy’s so damn tight,” he panted, brows furrowed in focus, relishing in the sound of his hips slapping your ass and your whorish moans. “M’gonna make sure your messy little cunt remembers my cock by the time I’m finished with you.”

“Uh-huh, mhm,” you nodded, hands itching to grab onto his biceps, his back, something to ground yourself while he churned your insides to mush. It was nigh impossible to think or breathe or speak, but it felt so fucking good.

“Awh, look at yourself,” he cooed, his voice slightly jumpy as he let go of your mouth to roughly pat your cheek, forcing you out of your stupor to make you stare at your reflection. “Are you out of it already? Should I stop?” He questioned, his raspy voice laced with faux concern.

“No! N-No,” you stammered, finding it difficult to comprehend what he was saying until moments later, alerted by the word “stop”. “Don’t stop! Ohh, oh god, please don’t stop!”

You’re so, so sensitive and so full, and you can feel him losing his rhythm. His cock is heavy in your stomach and you swear through your addled brain it’s weighing you down as a trail of precum connects your heated bodies together, frothing between your thighs and his balls.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunted, gritting his teeth. He could feel the burning coil in his abdomen intensify with each passing second, and suddenly he’s speeding up, pistoning into you with loud and sloppy thrusts. His green eyes are locked on your swollen and puffy hole sucking him in with a vice grip, watching his cock slide in and out, in and out, over and over again until you’re cumming hard, shaking and convulsing.

“That’s it,” he growls, the sound low and deep. It went straight into your stomach, sparks lighting up under your skin as your hips jerk, unsure whether you want to endure the building overstimulation or move away. “M’gonna cum so deep inside your pretty little pussy I’ll knock you up,” he murmured in your ear, dragging a canine down your neck to clamp his teeth down on the flesh. “Y’want that? To be my breeding bitch?”

You sobbed, unable to answer, but he didn’t need one. Not when your body spoke for you.

He fucked the air out of your lungs one, two, three more times, feeling his balls tighten until he finally came, spilling his cum so deep inside you, you were sure it’d stay there for weeks. You moaned, savoring the warmth that spread through your body with each spurt of his cum that coated your velvety insides, trying to catch your breath before you had to move.

Toji sighed in satisfaction, pulling out after a few moments. He watched your fucked-out hole clench around nothing as it leaked with his seed, spreading one of your asscheeks to get a better view before giving it a final pat.

You didn’t realize he cut the ropes holding your arms behind your back until you nearly fell face-first onto the floor, catching yourself with your numb hands.

“Ow… fuck,” you cursed at the sharp stinging sensation that ran up your arms, shaking them uselessly in an attempt to restore the blood flow faster.

“You were better than I thought you’d be,” he hummed, getting up to fix his clothes. He grabbed his handgun from off the ground, holding it against his shoulder as he stared you down. “But you have three days. Make ‘em count.”

You weren’t oblivious to know that he was giving you a three-day recovery period before he began hunting you again. Even then, you couldn’t stop the shiver of excitement from running through your spine at the prospect of seeing him again.

You grinned, breathless and shaky but confident nonetheless. It was unlikely he’d fuck you once he found you, but a man could dream. "I will."

cross-posted on ao3

675 notes · View notes

ncteez · 1 year

Text

The perks of being that guy (l.jh.)

Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion.

or the one where jihoon is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and, well, other things.

ao3 | m.list | reblog to give woozi a lil kiss

minors dni!!

WORDCOUNT― 14k

PAIRING― jihoon x afab reader

CONTENT― strangers to lovers like immediately, long fluffy hair jihoon!!!!, you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening.

NOTE― a present for u all because i hit a milestone of 5000 followers!! this was only supposed to be like 5k words but i guess i was in love with him this whole time. anyway, this is not proof read bc i think u guys know by now that im not about that life, so if you find a typo– don’t tell me i will delete everything out of embarrassment.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jihoon!!!! he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship, unprotected sex (just wrap it guys, im too lazy to write a condom scene), sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to not write smut where he wants to look directly at you, back scratches (sexual) ~

Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing.

Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.

“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips.

“I’m fine with my choice, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.

“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant…?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle it without said lube purchase.

The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long, he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo.

With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond.

“I think I know what I can take and I already have lube, but thanks.”

He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.

Now, despite Jihoon’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows everyone in this town’s kinks after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets and he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly.

Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of rosy tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing.

Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains.

Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet, timid man who shows up with pans of food for events.

The guests seem to love him, and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being.

It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.

You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion.

He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. Upon your eyes meeting his though, he could tell it was you simply by your furrowed brow as you recognized him.

Jihoon couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him, because it’s very true that many people feel too vulnerable when buying those kinds of items.

His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family. And by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to help explain or describe what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance.

He follows you down the line, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed though.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from.

His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another.

“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a grin.

You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.

“Thanks, Jihoon. See you around.”

You’re heading away from the table of food and now toward your saved spot at the table of family that you missed the most. Your same-age cousins, the ones you grew up with and made mud pies for your parents with during summer evenings.

“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing to the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures.

“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.”

She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life.

Okay so you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jihoon? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone.

His personality seemed different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks it’s funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.

So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills.

“How many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.

He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. Then he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down.

“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point.

You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not be to like about him. Unfortunately, you’re not finding much to take note of.

“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster.” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.

You find yourself laughing at his panic though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him.

“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes.

He pauses, his panic easing after taking note of your easy personality and banter towards him.

“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again. “Correction, they should be worried.”

“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.”

Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to discuss this at your own family reunion at least.

“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare down at it.

“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him.

Honestly, he might actually see you within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale.

Unfortunately for you, upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. Your head slamming into the steering wheel with a sigh that’s probably loud enough for the entire town to hear.

The last thing you need is your father driving you home, because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you spent at your parent’s house? You refuse to ask yourself questions.

Just as you prepare to head back inside, taking the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears.

That savior is none other than Jihoon walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise.

“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield.

“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”

Jihoon shakes his head apologetically.

“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door.

“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”

Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.

“You sure I’m too out of the way for you to do that?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well.

“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”

He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible.

“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”

Jihoon nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.

On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock even if he hits the sack at 7pm without even cleaning up the yard.

“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jihoon looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window.

“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff.

“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”

You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Know that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in their driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything.

Jihoon unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help. Of course it is.

“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?”

You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.

“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”

“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”

You stare at him.

“Okay.”

The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about his car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.

“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.

“Ex girlfriend, i couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”

“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”

Jihoon pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question.

“Was that too forward to ask?”

“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”

“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”

He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does.

“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.”

“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”

You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.

“You’re free right now…” You comment quietly, glancing at him.

“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.

“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”

“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.”

You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.

“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.”

How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening.

“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?”

Oh fuck, he’s right.

“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”

He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you.

“Where to then, y/n?”

If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. Not at least without hanging out a few times.

You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.

The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question.

“Where to then?”

You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him.

“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”

“Sounds good.”

It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot.

“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”

“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”

A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over.

By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote.

“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”

“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”

“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine.

“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”

For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it.

“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”

He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone.

“You know, no one buys toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.”

“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”

He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass.

“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”

“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”

He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase.

“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”

“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a sex drive.”

You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip.

“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again.

“Wha–” You narrow your eyes. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”

“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.

“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”

“Three pocket pussies, actually.”

You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus.

“I bet you named them.”

“Pocket 1, Butthole 1, and Jessica.”

“Jessca?!”

He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile.

You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too.

You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable.

“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.”

You nod energetically.

“Jesse and James.”

“Oh my god, how did you know that?”

You narrow your eyes again. He’s gotta be a fucking nerd to get the reference, even if everyone knows what pokemon is.

“So the pussy is Jesse, and the asshole is James.”

He nods slowly, acting surprised before smirking yet again.

“Actually, I only have one but I’ve experimented with other things that come through the door. Might as well, right?”

“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”

Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him.

“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He shoots back.

“Okay, enough about my dildo, I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”

He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.

“Shoot.”

“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, so you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”

“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”

“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”

He pauses, unsure of what could be so embarrassing.

“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a dude torso with a normal length and girth?”

Jihoon fucking snorts. How mundane. Unfortunately for you though, Nope.

“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got women sex dolls but he’s never really even mentioned just like…a dildo attached to some sort of form that is shaped like a person.”

You shrug.

“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”

He snorts again, this time unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more.

“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get thigh fucked mid-orgasm.”

You glare.

“Dude, no, because it actually hurt.”

“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your…” he pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now.

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”

He tries to play it off.

“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself like that just now.”

“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, laughing along with him as you actually start to look at him.

You noticed that he was handsome before. Normally employees of shops like those are nonchalant normal people, or strange old men who try to impose their kinks onto you. Jihoon though. Jihoon. Hmm, how to explain him?

With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his wide smile and pretty eyes. He may not be the tallest man you’ve ever looked at like this but damn is he thick. Like his thighs. Damn, the thighs. Even him now compared to him when he was catering for your family, he’s so much more handsome.

His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… You don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm.

“You know, Jihoon,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”

His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening.

“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”

You wave him off.

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second.

“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?”

“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”

“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”

You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.

“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed.

“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.

“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”

He nods, looking around the room and checking the time.

“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.”

You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad.

“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”

He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out.

Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential.

“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”

“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.

He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help that fluttering feeling in his chest.

It's almost midnight by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence.

“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.

“What do you mean?”

He turns toward you.

“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you.

You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again.

“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.

You’re taken aback by his forwardness, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite book. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”

He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction.

“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.

“Oh, most definitely.”

The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.

“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance.

“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.”

“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.”

“Maybe.”

“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at one in the morning and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”

He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership.

You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange?

“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.”

Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.

Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically.

“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.

“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”

“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce.

“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”

“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”

You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges.

“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.”

“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?”

He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you.

“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for probably super normal pretend-sex.”

You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer.

“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows.

“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much.

“A man.” You respond, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”

“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.”

You snort.

“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.”

“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”

For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond.

“I can imagine so, yeah.”

He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together.

“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so.

“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink.

He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.

“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment.

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.

“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other.

“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, just hovering over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”

Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his.

Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would.

Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all fucking day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.

The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.

It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily.

That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly.

“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile.

You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”

You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss.

He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him.

“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”

You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you.

“Was I wrong though? Can it do this for you?”

You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out onto the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you.

You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes.

“Actually, say what you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to set against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in.

“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it was stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”

“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him.

“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him.

“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?”

You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jihoon seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now.

“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”

He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.

“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day.

Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.

“Um.” He stops realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”

“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.

“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”

“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.”

“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room.

Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn to face him once he comes inside.

“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable.

“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change.

You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you.

“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table.

He had no idea what the fuck you were referring to until he saw it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jihoon tics his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer.

You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.

“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”

“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him.

He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is.

“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”

You study his expression.

“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now.

He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys.

“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.

He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind.

“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”

You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually.

“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”

You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like?

“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”

“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”

Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.

“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?

“What should we call it?”

“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer.

“Oh, you fuck on the first date?”

You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you.

“With you? I guess I do.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you.

“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.

“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”

“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”

“Guess I got lucky last time then.”

“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before.

You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier.

There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your shoulder and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky.

Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you had your lights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died.

It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way.

He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing his fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his fringe hangs. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you.

It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.

“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair.

“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.”

Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too.

You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing alone your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you.

“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too.

You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back.

Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks so fucking pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day at the creases of them. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension.

You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over you head.

“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you, yeah?” He laughs, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”

He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.

“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.

“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Am I not supposed to?”

Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.

“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.

“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”

You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs.

You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude.

“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.

“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on on hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your pussy. “No promises now, though.”

You laugh, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your laugh off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss.

He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again.

It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— Such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands.

He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit.

The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering.

He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control.

His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your ribs, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.

There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right there before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again.

“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses toward you, balancing yet again on his other arm.

Before you can actually respond, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly cupping your entire pussy.

You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.

“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit.

“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly.

You can feel them stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good though.

“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his playful smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers.

“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.”

You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want.

Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties.

“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally.

“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”

He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?

“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”

He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you.

“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?”

You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the confidence to just tell him.

He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bare to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure.

You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment.

His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing his a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him.

There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.

That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it though, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.

He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on your fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance.

“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.

So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them.

You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have you legs shaking.

Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it.

“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want.

He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.

Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you.

“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster now, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now.

He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs.

You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–

“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”

He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.

“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs.

He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it.

“Take it out?” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want.

Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off.

You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head.

“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.

You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering.

“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your core.

Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fucking fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually.

“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.

He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides.

“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.

You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you?

“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist.

He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him.

Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check.

You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.

When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds?

“Jihoon,” You say, slightly out of breath.

“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen consistently pressing into it. He could have come from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long, but now?

He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately.

“Fuck,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.”

You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.

“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already come just from having my fingers in you.”

You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.

“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.

“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”

And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your literal pussy, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy.

It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest.

He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.

You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, so does he.

When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.

“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace.

Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jihoon though, he’s in love with seeing remnants of you tomorrow.

Obsessed with the sting of it, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this.

You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.

When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner.

As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.

“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”

You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit.

Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily.

Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you go barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.

“I’m–”

Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.

The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation.

And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely filly. Jihoon really is something, or, someone.

The two of you released together, and his lips fell slack just like yours did. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.

Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop.

Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jihoon is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess.

When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.

“We should clean up.”

There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work.

He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for a day at the sex-shop.

He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.

Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.

For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.

Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you.

Not that you need it. (The lube.)

#woozi smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #jihoon smut #lee jihoon smut #lee woozi smut

1K notes · View notes

adventuringblind · 10 months

Note

If you’re still taking requests, can you please write a wolff!reader x charles leclerc fic? And they’re secretly engaged and in love and toto finds out and he doesn’t want them together and tries to break them up. Maybe they break up for toto and then he sees how sad they are w/o each other and how happy they were together? Angst to fluff and happy ending please 😭💕💕 Tysmmm i love your work sm

Romeo and Juliet

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: ANGST lots of it but a happy fluffy ending

Request: yes, and forbidden love? Yes please! Sorry if this is darker then you were thinking… I got a little carried away 😅. I am open for requests! Mainly for Max, Charles, Oscar, Lando, Daniel, and George.

Summary: Reader and Charles are in love. Unfortunately for them, Toto is determined to keep them apart.

Warnings: Angry Toto, sad reader, Charles trying to problem solve. MENTIONS OF SH but not description of it, MENTIONS OF SUICIDAL IDEATION but again nothing descriptive, bullying and toxic media.

Notes: written in third person. Please like, comment, and reblog. I like to hear from y'all. It makes me feel like a celebrity 🥹.

Also, I've sent up my account to let tips be enabled. I was debating whether or not to say this because i dont want to sound like im begging, but frankly, people opinions do not matter me me. If you like my writing and want to support me, please consider tipping my posts or my blog. I put a lot of effort into my writing, and it would mean the world to me. Obviously, I won't have my feelings hurt if you ignor this, but I wanted to put it out there.

Masterlist

She’d never been quite sure how it happened. How she managed to find her soulmate. The two are meant for each other. The only downside is that she is living a Romeo and Juliet parody.

Being a Wolff meant spending majority of her time around the race track or at the factory. From the time she was little, she was following her dad around.

Toto never had any hard and fast rules regarding being friends with people from other teams. He couldn’t stop her from being friends with those she spent majority of her time around. He did, however, have rules about dating. Mainly not to date a driver and if she was then he would allow a Mercedes driver.

So her options were Lewis and George. She liked both, but not in any romantic way. They are her brothers. She annoys them and them tease her and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her and Charles had been friends since he first started with AlfaRomeo. The two clicked instantly and talked constantly. She was the first person he looked for after a good race or a bad one. He was her everything and she was his.

Four years later they started dating. Secretly, of course, because she didn’t want her dad smashing anymore headphones. They made it work and were willing to do what it took.

It helped that she already lived in Monaco since that’s where majority of her friends lived. It made sense why they would ‘run into each other’ so often since they live in a small place.

George found out by accident right before a race. He’d found her phone in the ground. It had fallen out of her pocket and she’d not noticed. When she had noted it’s disappearance, she tried to locate it by calling it with Charles phone.

George took one look at the caller ID and knew. The less then friendly contact name, mix of heart emoji’s, and Charles contact photo gave it away. He answered anyways. If Charles knew where she was then at least he could give her phone back.

“Hello, this is George.” He only got silence in return. “Hello…?”

“Please tell me you didn’t see the called name.” Came her voice from the other end. The desperation in your voice making him chuckle. He was never going to let her live this down.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Now can you please come get your phone.”

The two lovebirds were able to make more things work after. Being able to have George cover form them helped immensely. Dates became more frequent. Places they wouldn’t normally go were suddenly a possibility.

Lewis caught on eventually. He saw right past the sheepish smiles of George and Y/N. While she was sneaking back in the garage through George’s driver room.

Between George and Lewis the teasing only escalated, but the two of them were the best possible wingmen she could have asked for. They managed to distract her father away when she was cutting things close.

It didn’t last forever though. The ending of Romeo and Juliet isn’t a happy one.

Someone had managed to take a picture of them kissing. It was a cute picture. Charles kissing her on what was supposed to be a private beach during the sunset. A picture that she woke up to circling the medial faster that the cars on race day.

Charles woke up to her rapid breathing. Her phone lighting up the dark room with constant notifications. Charles wrapped his arms around her. “It’s alright amour. We’ll figure this out on day at a time.

Things were weird after that. She clung to Charles as she was ripped to shred by the media, the fans, and her father.

She was being called a traitor to her fathers team. Her father had labeled her disrespectful. It was an utter nightmare.

The two Mercedes boys stood protectively behind her. Toto’s voice getting louder by the second. She was still sitting in the chair opposite his. Her eyes downcast to the lightly colored desk.

“I don’t understand why you chose him. A rival team! How do I know your not telling him everything about our operations?” Toto’s voice was laced with venom. This arms waving around to exaggerate his point.

“Because I love him. And I would never do that to you.” She wanted to stay strong, but the tears were threatening to spill over.

“I don’t want to see you back here until you two are broken up.” He turned his back to her.

She quickly exited, George following close behind her. Lewis remained in the office.

“I think you’re being too hard on her.” Lewis pointed out. Still leaning in the wall close to the door. His arms crossed over his chest, staring at the team principal he holds immense respect for.

“Aren’t you concerned at all?”

“No, she loves her family to much to do anything like that.” Then he left. Finding the girl he considered his sister clinging to George’s shirt.

Both of them had seen the comments. Both had been asked about it during interviews. Both had told their fans to leave her alone. It hurt both of them to see how people were treating her. The names they felt no remorse for spewing. It made them sick.

Charles’ fans were not any better. He hated seeing them tell her nasty things. Spreading rumors they knew nothing about.

He’d tried reassuring her constantly that she is his everything, but he knew she was losing her family. The last thing he wanted to happen. He wanted to protect her from this. Guilt wracking his body because he felt powerless to do anything.

When he found her that day, sobs wracking her body as she went to find him, he knew how he could help her. The last option either of them wanted.

“I love you so much.” He said, cupping her cheek gently, letting the tears roll down his cheeks and attempting to wipe away hers. “But I don’t want you to lose your family because of me.”

Charles called George that day to tell him want he was going to do. George having understood his actions and promised to be there for her. So when the broken girl showed up at his house that night, eyes red and puffy, he’d already been ready for her. Carmen making sure that she had extra clothes for her in case she ended up staying awhile.

Charles’ next stop was to see Toto. The older man hardly sparing him a glance as he walked into the office. “I’m sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused you.” He started. Toto still faced the wall, refusing to look at him. Something Charles was grateful for. “Me and your daughter have parted ways. So, I’ll hope you’ll allow her to stay with her family. Neither of us wanted things to happen this way. But I’d rather lose her then watch her lose everything she’s grown up with and worked for.”

Charles waited a moment to see if he’d get a response before turning around and ducking out of the office.

He stayed with Pierre that night. Broken and defeated. His heart heavy with the sadness and longing to be with the woman he loved so dearly.

The media didn’t stop though. The news around them still trending. People still feeling the need to voice their disgusting comments.

Toto had tried to connect with his daughter, but received no response. In fact, nobody had. She hadn’t been to a race in months. Both George and Lewis had tried calling and texting her only to receive nothing in return. She hadn’t even read their messages.

Charles was hurting as well. He didn’t want to cause her anymore pain. So he distanced himself from everything that related to her. Carlos and Pierre had been watching his behavior. His head clearly not in a good place mentally. They were running out of ideas in how to help him.

Lewis was the one who caved first. He’d given her enough space, now it was time to invade it. He dragged George with him to her apartment in Monaco one morning. Determined to see proof that she was at least breathing.

When they got no answer, they searched for the spare key. The one she hid in the light above her front door. Relief flooding them both as George managed to locate it.

When they finally got the door open, they were greeted with the dark apartment. It looked like no one lived there. The fridge was empty and the cupboards almost mirrored it, aside from the open box of your favorite cereal.

There was broken glass along the counters and floor. Pictures had been taken off the walls. A few empty bottles of alcohol lay strewn along flat surfaces.

The woman they’d been looking for was wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Her chest slowly rising and falling.

George went to gently try and pull her from her sleep without scaring her.

Lewis on the other hand, went to investigate the rest of the rooms. Terrified at what he’d discovered.

He lightly jogged back to George, who didn’t want to pull her from her peaceful slumber, and tapped his shoulder. Motioning for the younger Brit to follow him.

Their first stop was the bedroom. Everything that reminded her of Charles had been stripped away. leaving only the mattress in the center of the room. The long mirror hanging next to the closet had been shattered. The glass that had fallen out of it scattered around the base word they’d seen people calling her written in thick black marker now divided by cracks.

Next, Lewis led them to the bathroom. The sight of it making George want to vomit. The bathroom mirror had also been cracked. Towels stained red line the countertop. Pills litter the bathroom floor. And the knife she’d been gifted by her father for her 18th birthday lay on the edge of the sink.

Who is obviously what had happened here recently.

George who was struggling to look at the scene went back to trying to coax the woman, his sister, out of her slumber. Lewis making an attempt to at lease get the area safe. Their hearts hurt for her. They knew she was hurting but neither knew it had gotten so bad.

Charles was her soulmate. Both her and Charles knew it. They had envisioned their life together. A life that she saw every time she closed her eyes.

She tried to separate herself from his memory. Tried to distract herself. But she couldn’t get her mind away from him. How he made her smile. How he listened even to the pettiest things she complained about. She wanted that back.

If her family didn’t want her for it and Charles couldn’t stand to see her hurting, then she would get back there on her own.

If their story was like Romeo and Juliet’s, why shouldn’t it end in tragedy as well?

But their story keeps going. Because they are meant for each other. So they will find away even if they don’t know it yet.

The gentle touches of Charles ghosted over her bare arms. Her mind trying to hold into the feeling even if he wasn’t here.

She cracked her eyes open to the dark room. Her body revolting as she tries to sit up. Her dehydration finally getting to her. Her head pounding from last night events.

She’s had a few episodes like this and knows she needs to get help. She doesn’t know where to start though.

She hadn’t really eaten much the last sixth months. Even food reminded her of him. How was she ever going to move in at this rate?

Then she noticed the sounds of breathing beside her. The familiar face of George greeting her, though his eyes are sad.

She immediately sits up. The horrible scene that is her apartment now clearly seen by one of the last people she wanted to know she’d sunk this far.

“George?” Her voice merely a quiet rasp.

“It’s okay now, we’re gonna help you. Okay?” His voice cracked. The male is clear distress.

Lewis came around the corner upon hearing voices. Relieved that she’d woken up. “I think we need to talk.”

Charles hadn’t been staying at his apartment. He knew he wasn’t in a good place mentally, so he went back home. His mother welcomed him with open arms, sad to hear the news of the two splitting.

He’d talked to Lewis and George about her during race weekends. Their lack of knowledge causing his concern to grow more with each passing week.

He’d tried for sixth months to force himself to move on but he knew it was in vain. She was made for him and he belonged to her. How was he supposed to move on from that?

Pascale had struggled watching her middle child. He struggled to eat, struggled to sleep, to the point it was affecting his performance.

“You should talk to her.” She suggested.

“I’ll only hurt her more.”

“I’ve been looking in social media for her. The things people are saying is terrible.” She sighs, the situation itself only getting worse. “She needs you.”

Toto knew he messed up. As soon as he’d made her choose, he knew. Only to have it confirmed when he heard the waver in Charles voice. When he didn’t see his daughter for moths. As he watched Charles performance fall.

He’d tried to contact her. Susie had encouraged him to call her the night everything happened. He’d received no response for sixth months. He’d asked Lewis about her only to be met with his sigh and sad eyes.

It’s like she disappeared from the planet. Everyone worried about her. But they collectively decided that maybe she needed space.

He knew she and Charles were happy together. He’d seen how big her smile was when she was with him. Even when he thought they were just friends. The two of them had been contagiously happy.

The next race came around quickly. At least for Charles that’s how it felt as he strode to the Mercedes paddock.

He spotted Lewis and George and weaved his way towards them. Everyone trying to get one roared for the weekend. Exactly what he should be doing.

“Charles! Listen mate-“ George had started. But Charles cut him off with the urgent need to speak with Toto before he could get in his head. “I need Toto. I need to see her again.” He was ready to break.

“He’s in his office.”

Charles didn’t waist any time making his way there. The older man a bit startled at the sudden appearance. “I love your daughter. I am begging you to not make her choose.” He was pleading but he didn’t care.

“I’m sorry.” Toto looked pained. Charles is taken off guard by it. His reaction the last thing the monegasque was expecting. “I should have never made her choose. She was happy with you. So when you go get her back, tell her I’m sorry and that I want her to come home.”

Charles fumbled around with his words. Gesturing wildly with his hands but for some reason his voice was stuck in his throat. Eventually he just nodded his head, attempting to get across his thanks.

Lewis and George were still talking. So he did the only logical thing and tackled then both in a hug. “I need to know where she is. He’s not going to make her choose.” The smile on his face so big it might fall off. “Please tell me where she’s been staying.”

Lewis and George shared a look. One that didn’t go unnoticed. “We need to talk.”

They’d told him about her state. About what she’d been going through. How they found her that morning, alone and so far into her head they didn’t know if she was going to come out.

His heart shattered listening to them. The two were connected deeper then anything he could’ve imagined. He’s upset that he didn’t get the courage to fight for her sooner.

She’d been spending her time since they found her with either if the boys. Neither wanted to leave her alone after that. So they made sure she wasn’t alone after that.

Her apartment was still mildly wrecked but they weren’t worried about it. They just wanted to get her out of her head.

Now he had a chance. They had brought her with them. She didn’t want to come to the track so she was back at the hotel. Tucked away from the world.

Now Charles was speeding to her location. Lewis’ key card in hand. Determination filling his veins. He needed to see her, desperately. His heart ached the last six months. He didn’t want to never see her again. Charles loved her with his entire being.

The trip was a blur for him. Not even realizing he was at the door until he had no more steps left to take.

He decided to knock first. He wanted to be respectful. He’d use the key as his last resort.

He got nervous when the handle turned. What was he going to say? He didn’t have time to think about it as the door swung open. Revealing the love of his life. Still as beautiful as when he last saw her. Though his heart dropped at the sight.

Bags under eyes, her body smaller then he remembered. Then there was the white bandages running up her arms. She was wearing a tank top and sweats, obviously not expecting him to show up.

They stared at each other for a moment. Then the tears started. She was in his arms in a second. Clutching him like he would disappear if she let go.

He breathed her in. “I’m here, I got you, and I’m never letting you go again.”

895 notes · View notes

qqtxt · 1 year

Note

omgomgomg i cant let this thought go help meee but imagine the cliché bad dream trope with txt specifically the one where reader wakes up from a bad dream where the dream version of bf!txt was cheating on them then they wake up and get angry at irl txt lmao (im not really thinking angst but lighthearted and soft hours)

*smacks them awake with a pillow*"WHO IS SHE?!"

Them: 👁👄👁 "Babe I just woke up wdym..."

oh my goodness this is too real. i have done something similar to my bf before and he's really just 💧👁👄👁💧 this made me giggle so i just had to write a little something! I'm still a little stumped with my studies but i really wanted to write something out so this is a bit short and not really proofread! so apologies in advance but i do hope it's okay! 💖

[🌸] bitter dream, sweet reality w/ txt

✿ pairing: ot5 x reader / fluff, crack 🌸🤡 / idol!txt / non.idol!you / soobin and yeonjun get roasted for nothing ✿ mini-fics with each member for the same situation / less than 400 words for each member / altogether, word count: 1,591 words ✿ in which you dreamt that he cheated on you and you smack their face with a pillow [masterlist 🌸] / other members under the cut!

[🐰] soobin soobin lets out a whine when he feels a smack to the face. as he opens his eyes, he flinches when he notices you're already looking at him with a frown on your face. the worry overtakes him too quickly as he sits up, hands to your shoulders, "hey... you okay?"

"how can you ask that when you did what you did?" you mutter under your breath, looking away from him with a huff. he gapes, blinking a couple of times to recuperate.

"i-i just–what did i–"

"you cheated on me. in my dream. you suck."

initially, soobin's stumped. listening to your words, he was ready to apologise until he realises that–"wait, in your dream? i cheated? on you?" he chuckles when the words sink in, and he watches how you cross your arms in front of your chest. "you can't be serious, right? why would i ever cheat on you?"

when you press your lips to a thin line and refuse to look at him, he takes it as his cue to–"ah..." he hums softly, relenting as he wraps his arms around you. it was easy enough to curl you in given that he makes use of his figure; effectively nudging you towards him and engulfing you in his embrace. "i apologise on behalf of dream soobin, but real life soobin won't ever do that," he gives you a gentle shake, "hm?"

"hm," you nod, putting your arms around him to snuggle closer towards him. sure, you might've hit soobin in the face with the pillow but the way he's able to hug you like this might've been all the more worth it as he smiles into the side of your face like a hopeless romantic.

[🦊] yeonjun yeonjun nearly falls off the bed as he comes to wake from the hit to the face. he can't quite believe he's woken up just from a hit but when he snaps his eyes open and turns to the side, he's a mumbling fish.

"what?! who? what's going on?" he frantically looks around, and then he spots you sitting up with a pillow in your hands, nearly looking like you're about to squish it to death. "yah..." he murmurs, a hand reaching out to you but his brows furrow when you dodge his touch, "what's wrong?"

"you cheated on me."

his eyes visibly widen as he swallows.

"me? when?"

"in my dream. last night. i don't like you."

he didn't intend to but you make it very, very hard not to smile. the corner of his lips already tug upwards at the thought of you being frustrated at the fact you thought he would cheat on you, or even comprehend that.

"look at me, please?" he tries to reach out to you and this time he manages to put a hand on the pillow you're holding. he tugs at it and you let go of the pillow so he can put it back next to him as he puts his hands in yours to give a squeeze. "c'mon now, the quicker you look at me, the faster we can go back to sleep."

you reluctantly look at him and that's when you see it. the way his eyes look at you with love, overflowing with warmth. the way he's so infatuated with you that he couldn't ever, possibly do it.

"how could i ever cheat on you when i get to look at you look at me like this? do i need to run up to the rooftop to profess my love to you to the entire world? because i would, let me just grab my slippers and–"

you make a noise that crosses between a whine and grumble, squeezing his hands. that alone was enough for yeonjun to be able to get you to lie down next to him as he cuddles you in bed until you fall asleep with a smile on both of your faces.

[🐯] beomgyu beomgyu merely groans at the soft plush feeling he feels on his face. he doesn't bother opening his eyes, only reaching out blindly until he hooks his arm around what feels like your waist and he pulls. he whines a little when you don't oblige it makes him peel one eye open to see you frowning at him. instinctively, he shrugs it off and shifts closer towards you instead, nuzzling against the side of your arm, "what time is it? it still looks dark to be awake..."

when he doesn't hear a response, he huffs and opens his eyes, now noticing the way you're still frowning.

"nawh... what's wrong? can't sleep?"

"i was peacefully sleeping until you decided to cheat on me in my dream."

his first instinct is to laugh, then drag poor, innocent yeonjun into this.

"the day i ever cheat on you is the day that yeonjun-hyung turns into a bird,"

"..."

"...okay, not funny. but look at me," he sits up on his elbows, turning to look at you properly even though he has crust in his eyes and he looks like he needs to sleep for another year and a half. "i'm so hopelessly in love with you that i still feel like i don't see you enough,"

"i'm with you every night," you counter, with a scoff of laugh that he holds onto with a grin, "exactly," he nods. "so how can i possibly cheat on you?"

when you don't respond, he knows he's won when he's able to lay back down and lure you into his arms.

"better?" he hums, burying his face in your neck as you cuddle against his chest, as he moulds into your back with a sigh. "better."

[🐿] taehyun taehyun's half-sleepy, half-confused when he wakes up from the fluff of a pillow that greets him awake. it takes him a while to process that okay, i'm awake and to notice that oh, you're the one who woke me up when he notices the pillow in your hands, a frown etched to your lips, brows furrowed. he sighs and sits up, tilting his head at you, "can't sleep?"

you keep silent, fidgeting with the pillow that taehyun shakes his head.

"c'mon, pretty thing. i can't help unless you tell me what's wrong," he shifts a little closer, placing a hand on top of yours, lifting his brows just a little on instinct, "hm?"

he sees how your features change in the dark and he shouldn't laugh but he does when you're all pouty and sulky.

"you're a cheater, kang taehyun."

"me?" he snorts, giving your hands a squeeze, "since when?"

"since last night, in my dream."

you watch as your words seep into his brain, and it shows on his face when his lips turn from an 'o' to a small smile.

"that's not fair, now is it? i can't control dream taehyun, but at least i can control real-life taehyun," he moves to wedge his hand between yours and grips onto one of it, his thumb brushing the back of your hand, "and real-life taehyun would never do that to you."

"promise?" you know you sound childish, maybe even a little irrational but it's the way taehyun nods with such firmness and genuity, even locking pinkies with you that makes you feel at ease, "promise."

[🐧] kai kai is the definition of clueless and flustered upon being smacked to wake with a pillow to the face. though, he's surprisingly not as panicky as imagined when he sits up with a sharp intake of breath, eyes rapidly blinking as he adjusts to the darkness of the room and calls for your name softly.

"are you okay?" he mutters, rubbing his eyes as he sits up, half-lidded.

"no, because you," with another pillow hit to the chest, he oofs back onto the bed despite trying to sit up, "cheated on me."

he remains laying down on the bed, moving his hand from his eyes with a chuckle.

"what's so funny?" you huff, nudging him with your weapon (pillow).

"me cheating on you is like saying soobin-hyung willingly signed a gym membership."

"...do you think this is funny?"

"y/n," he sits up, testing the waters to see if you'd hit him again but when you lower your weapon down, he smiles at you so sweetly, it's making you feel a little guilty for waking him up like this and he's still so sweet to you. "i literally flew back ten hours just so i can be with you for two days before i'd have to leave again. i'd still do it again and again because i love you so much. do you think i'd cheat on you?"

"then why'd you cheat on me in my dream?"

he shrugs, "i can't answer that. that's not me."

when you don't say anything, he sighs and peels the pillow from your hands so he can place it back on the bed. then, he crawls over to you, wrapping his arms around you to carefully lure you back to where you belong; in his arms, side by side in bed.

"you don't actually think i'll cheat on you, do you?" he murmurs, rubbing your stomach as he hooks his chin on your shoulder.

you shake your head and lean back to his touch, "no, but it felt real. and i didn't like that feeling..."

"mm..." he hums, "that doesn't sound like it feels nice. but do you feel a bit better now?"

you nod, lapping your hands over his as your eyes close, "yeah, much better now."

#txt reactions #txt reaction #txt scenarios #txt scenario #txt x you #txt x reader #choi soobin #soobin scenarios #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios #taehyun scenarios #taehyun x you #huening kai scenarios #huening kai x you

840 notes · View notes

savannahsdeath · 7 months

Text

SOCCER!ELLIE X CHEERLEADER!READER

PART 5FIVE aka; the epilogue

part 4four

warnings: minors safe !!🩷

writers note: finally the end ugh.. im not gonna lie, i hate how the whole 'series' (its too short to be called a series, but wtv) turned out, so im glad to finish it. though, im looking forward to make another fic with actual plot and not just smut, tho an abby one (i already have the epilogue written and im so so excited🤭)

you felt stupid. stupid, but mostly hurt. you couldn't understand why a small part of you wanted to believe that vi did nothing wrong. that small part of you wanted to end all of this, get on good terms with vi and be with ellie.

although, you weren't hurt by cheating itself. after all, you thought that's what happened for the past months, so you were already mentally prepared for that.

whatever.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

you and ellie went through all the usual motions of a happy couple together, though not as an official couple yet. you spent time with each other and your friends, and you slowly forgot about the past and all the drama you had experienced.

you didn't forget about vi, though. you still felt guilty about the way you let her manipulate you like that. you could still hear her voice in your mind, telling you love isn't something you both have and, probably, never had.

you decided she shouldn't be a part of your life anymore, and you did your best to avoid her. she didn't know that you know, though it was obvious, since the rumours continued. you just didn't care anymore. not about her, at least.

ellie didn't speak much about the past, and you didn't either, because you felt like you didn't need to. the past was the past, and now you were looking forward to your future together.

you started thinking less and less about vi, soon managing to get her out of your mind for the whole day. not much, but after what happened, it was a big success. she was no longer a part of your life. ellie was, and that's all that mattered to you now.

you spent more and more time with her. you got to know her team better, returning the favor by taking her to your friend group's meeting.

you told luccy, your best friend, about the whole situation. it took you a good few hours to explain everything.

luccy listened to your entire story, impressed by the twists and turns it took. you could tell she was almost as surprised as you, her eyes widening with each sentence.

"well, no wonder you were so confused," she said politely, "but at least you have ellie now, and you seem happy together." she paused for a moment, before asking; "do you miss vi at all?"

you sighed and closed your eyes, imagining every good moment with her and comparing it to the happiness ellie brought you.

it was almost impossible to answer your friend's question.

on one hand, you had had great moments with vi, and you could even admit that you loved her.

and then there's ellie - which made you remember that your ex wasn't there for you when you needed it.

"no, i don't think so." you replied, ashamedly looking down. "ellie makes me feel like i never even truly loved vi."

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

i want to add some 'last words' about this fic, especially this part. a lot of you guys will probably be mad at me for not taking any revenge. but you, as the reader, have to understand that its not that easy. after being so hurt, after hearing so many lies, all you wanted was a normal relationship. a stable, honest and calm one. the one you got with ellie. you knew getting revenge would only complicate things - you probably wont be able to forget her at all once youd put salt on the wounds all over again. just the fact that she has to see you happy with ellie, while shes left alone, is enough. thanks to everyone who supported the series<3

TAGS: @wandasromanova @bellaramslover @aouiaa @glennns-blog @elliewilliamsfuckbuddy @iheartsadiesink @ximtiredx @coff1nn @jowdann @simpforellie @iveofficiallylostmymarbles @skylerwhitwyo @pinkigirl @islalips @ratdungeon @okayyesbutno @dinoastronaut @ucannotcompare @elyonz @lesbiantothemoonandback @lovejuliettq @param8re @r3wbeef and some more i cant tag for unknown reasons:(

200 notes · View notes

th3secr3th1story · 9 months

Note

getou reacting to you having a mental breakdown/crying

geto reacting to a breakdown

of course, thank you for the request! hope you're ok

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst ig, first time writing in present tense wheww yazan dont fuck it up..., soft!geto, reader is stresseddd about life, crying, established relationship, no prns used, if u see any typos IM SORRY. i proofread but it's late and im tired!

words: 1,026

some days are harder than others. ups and downs are normal (and expected), but knowing that doesn't make difficult times any easier to manage.

you're a strong student, there's no doubt in that. you consistently perform well in all your assessments, sparring sessions, and missions, but sometimes it feels like the better you perform the better you're expected to do.

that day, geto is able to tell something is off. you didn't participate as often as you usually do in class, your typically composed expression seemed strained, you ate your lunch slower than usual, and despite beating him in a fight, you seemed less focused.

"are you okay?" he asks as the two of you walk down the hallway, turning your face gently to look at him.

"yeah, just didn't sleep too well last night," you smile, kissing his cheek and squeezing his hand before quickly heading off to the bathroom.

despite being in a relationship with geto for over a year now, vulnerability is still challenging. not to say you've never confided in him, since there's no one you trust more, but putting thoughts into words never comes easy.

you don't know how you make it through your last class. just the thought of all your homework, your upcoming mission, the fact that it's only october, if you're really going to be risking your life for a living--you can't wait for the school day to be over.

once the final bell rings, you gather your things and leave the class, not stopping to thank the teacher or say bye to your friends as you normally do.

"what's up with y/n today?" gojo questions.

that confirms geto's suspicions. something is wrong, and he's ready to help.

once you reach the dorm, you shut the door and flop down onto the bed with a sigh.

"is it always going to be like this?" you wonder, feeling the stress from the day pressing down on your chest, practically suffocating you.

before you know it, half an hour of staring at the ceiling has gone by before a knock shakes you out of your thoughts.

sliding the door open, you see geto standing there staring right at you with his hands in his pockets.

"hey," he says, breaking the silence.

"what're you doing here? is everything okay?" you question, beckoning him in.

"you've been acting off today. even satoru noticed, which is definitely saying something since he's always in his own bubble," he grumbles the last part, smiling a little.

"what's going on? i need you to talk to me," he continues.

sitting down on the bed, you sigh for what has got to be the thousandth time in the last 12 hours and try to figure out how to formulate your words.

"today was just hard, i guess? i don't really know," you mumble, not even sure of what to say.

"what do you mean?" he asks, encouraging you to open up, sitting down next to you and placing his hand on your leg.

"i just feel like there's a lot of pressure to do well, from my parents and teachers," you respond, not sure if you were talking to him or yourself.

"like, the more missions i come back from successful, or the more projects i do well on, the better i feel like i have to perform. which of course isn't a bad thing--i mean it's probably a good thing, actually," you start, feeling the familiar stinging of your eyes.

"but it's still kind of tiring because i feel like i can't really catch a break. like, once i finish something, there's always something else waiting for me," you stop for a second to sniffle as the tears start to fall, quickly wiping them away.

geto scoots closer and wraps his arm around you, rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

"and i get this is the life of a jujutsu sorcerer and i just have to suck it up and get used to it, but it's hard, you know? i don't know how to get my shit together."

your breaths are coming in quicker now, placing your elbows onto your knees so you can lean into the palms of your hands.

"i'm just tired, suguru. really tired," you choke.

"i feel like i'm going insane. i mean, what if i fuck up my next mission and then that's it?" you ask, letting silence wash over the both of you as you cry into your hands. you shake your head, feeling the embarrassment push through you.

at first, geto doesn't say anything, processing your words, before he pulls you back into his arms, hugging you tightly and letting your tears fall onto his shoulder.

"i get what you mean, y/n. you're not crazy," he whispers into your hair, rubbing your back as you continue to cry hard.

"you keep talking like you're alone," he continues, "but you're not. satoru's here, shoko's here, baby-" he turns your head so that you can look at him, "-i'm here."

"expectations are challenging, and they can definitely feel suffocating. but you're more than a failed mission," he whispers softly, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

"mistakes are inevitable, and yes, failure is always a possibility. it's unrealistic to expect yourself to complete every single mission perfectly, you know. i doubt anyone ever has."

"but what if i disappoint everyone? i don't want to be a failure," you whisper, shaking your head as you look away from geto.

"listen, it still doesn't mean you're weak or incapable. you're the strongest person i know, and your dedication to everything you do just proves that," he smiles, pulling you in so you can rest your head on his shoulder again.

"stronger than you and satoru?" you ask, finally smiling a little as the tears begin to subside.

"way stronger," he responds, kissing your forehead before pulling the two of you down to lay on your bed.

"wait, i have homework, suguru-"

"just for a bit, baby. i know how tired you are, it's okay," he whispered, pulling you in closer and beckoning you to finally close your weary eyes.

258 notes · View notes

disableddyke · 10 months

Text

i think that abled people kind of take their energy for granted, in that they don’t give much thought to how much energy they put into menial tasks and how many of their daily chores they’ll complete before they run out. obviously it’s different for each person, but in general, energy and willpower is guaranteed for the majority of abled people for day-to-day stuff.

before my illness became more difficult to manage (thanks to covid and the inevitable burnout from regularly using borrowed time and energy to get through my daily life), I hadn’t given much thought to how many spoons it takes me to do little tasks (at least not to the extent where it became arduous). but now, I really notice how much energy each task requires. I pre-plan tasks like getting dressed or showering and i estimate how much energy I’ll have leftover to do certain things afterward; and often, at the end of the day, i don’t even have enough spoons left to brush my teeth. I have to mentally keep track of everything I do, and that requires energy too. I’m spending every second of the day spending energy that I can’t get back, and I’m already operating on half a tank. and I think that’s important for able-bodied people to keep in mind this disability pride month. we often have less energy than you, our tasks typically require more energy, and it’s difficult to re-energize. sleeping doesn’t even do the trick 90% of the time. Over-drawing spoons in one day puts us in spoon debt for the following days.

im not asking for a fix or for you to feel pity or guilt. all I can really ask is that you keep this in mind with your disabled friends and family, and that you don’t expect or demand us to give more than we have. that’s all.

happy pride 🎗

#disabled #disability #cripple

292 notes · View notes

harrywavycurly · 1 year

Note

I know you just posted it but I need more spoiled princess reader and Eddie😍😍

Hiiii lovey!! No problem!! I hope you enjoy these💖

-I tossed in another conversation between Steve and Eddie, it’s marked with an ✨

- want more Eddie and his Princess? Find it here

*Eddie loves to do anything and everything for you…including wash your hair and pick your ice cream flavor*

“Put it down please baby.” “But I can do it.” “I know you can do it sweetheart…but please put the laundry hamper down.” “I just want to help.” “I appreciate that but don’t worry I’ve got it handled baby okay? Why don’t you go take a bubble bath and start your new book?” “Okay…can I at least make dinner tonight?” “Princess…” “Okay okay I’ll just go take a bath and read my book.” “I love you.” “I love you too!”

✨”you’ve got to be shitting me…” “oh come on dude you can’t work for her you know that right?” “I’m well aware of that Harrington but why the fuck do you have her back there loading boxes off a truck?” “It’s inventory day…” “and you just let her and Robin do all the heavy lifting?” “I mean..someone has to watch the front..” “You have about thirty seconds to get your fluffy haired ass back there and send her up to the front before I beat the shit out of you.” “Okay okay I’ll send her up here…no need to get violent…” “you’re such an asshole.” “Hey honey! Is everything okay?” “Hey Princess…yeah you just forgot your lunch on the counter.” “Oh I knew I was forgetting something this morning…thank you for bringing it.” “Harrington being nice to you today?” “Yes he offered to do inventory for me! He never does that…I did manage to snag us some red vines though.” “Of course you did baby…I’ll come by and pick you up later okay?” “Okay honey have a good day! Love you.” “Love you more sweetheart.” “You two are fucking gross…” “one day someone will love you Steve don’t worry…” “oh fuck off Munson.”

“Lean back baby.” “Oh can you use the one that smells like coconut? I love that one.” “Sure sweetheart…so how was your day?” “It was good I finished my book and organized our closet…you have a lot of t shirts honey…oh that feels good.” “I mean they aren’t just mine…you wear half of them too…close your eyes really quick okay? Im going to rinse the shampoo out.” “I like your sweatshirts the most…you know you’re my favorite hair washer.” “Your favorite? Thanks Princess…now how much patience do you have for conditioning?” “Uh…not a lot.” “Okay I’ll make it quick then…what are your thoughts on dinner?” “Hmmm maybe some pasta? Does that sound good to you?” “Sure baby…as soon as we are finished I’ll make dinner if you want to watch a movie while I cook?” “Or I can help you cook?” “Or…you can sit on the counter and watch me?” “One day will you let me help?” “Maybe…” “that’s a no.”

“Pickup service for my Princess.” “Hi honey! How was your day?” “Better now that you’re in my passenger seat.” “Oh can we get ice cream on the way home? Please?” “When have I ever been able to tell you no?” “Uhh…never?” “Exactly…so what flavor are you thinking you want today?” “Not sure yet I’m gonna have to see what my options are.” “You say that as if they aren’t the same every single time sweetheart.” “Will you pick for me?” “You sure?” “Yeah I just want ice cream I’m not feeling picky on the flavor.” “Okay baby…you want to eat it here or at home?” “Home please.” “Not a problem…I’ll run in and be right back.” “Oh sprinkles please” “as if I’d even try to bring you sprinkle-less ice cream baby.” “You’re the best!” “Love you…I’ll be right back.” “Love you too!”

#where does one find a man like this tho I know they exist…right?👀#conversations with eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson request #Eddie Munson #my little dungeon master baby #eddie munson concept #boyfriend eddie munson #Eddie munson x princess #spoiled conversations

508 notes · View notes

thesmpisonfire · 6 months

Note

okay im here with actual headcanons this time, no misclicks fortunately

soulfire

bad is the pillow of the group because even while freezing cold he's still somehow the warmest, so he is buffered by the whole team. he's always got an arm around someone (usually pac), wings covering as many people as he can and tail wrapped around anyone farther away. pac, tubbo and tina are usually the ones situated close to him

tina and bad are usually the ones make food or drinks that aren't alchoholic. tina obviously brews a bunch of tea during the day and theres not a lot of food but they make do with the crops and resources they have. now that the greens have merged, forever helps out now too as well as fit!

since they couldn't go home before the bounty hunting nerfs, everybody still managed to flock to each other. or at least anyone who wasnt being tracked. and when it was finally time for every to rest, they all curled up in a hole and made it as warm as possible for the new wolves joining them

they have a specific corner for sleeping in and, once everyone is awake or those who aren't can be moved, tina always makes sure that the bedding is fixed. now she has bagi to help her :]

pachalo

because i can never stop thinking about it: bad's collar was handmade by pac but was originally a bit of a joke gift considering the joke about bad being soulfire's guard dog. unbeknownst to the rest of the team, bad wears it constantly underneath his bandanna, expertly hidden. pac's the only one who knows and teases bad lightly for it

before purgatory there were very few people who got to see bad's hair, much less be able to touch it. but now the list of people allowed to touch it has pac added to it

bad likes to rest his head on pac's chest to hear his heartbeat, to make sure he's alive and to pick up on nightmares. he's very careful of where he puts his horns

fitpachalo

fit sometimes, mostly when they've exhausted their energy, bridal carries bad or pac back to base to get proper rest. this happens less with bad cus he's cautious of his energy. the first time it happened though it spooked him completely awake because he was so flustered, pac laughed at him (albiet very sleepily)

considering bad and pac are the more teasing by nature, they make it just a tiiiny bit of a game to see who can fluster fit more. pac is usually the winner 9 times out of 10

when bad gets growly, fit is the only other team member aside from maybe tubbo who's allowed to come near pac. the downside of this is that bad proceeds to get growly over fit as well. -screamingallium

YEAAAA

Under read more bc it got long :]

About the soulfire one where they can't go back home and have to huddle together somewhere, there's actually a secret nook in Soulfires old farm!! Bad made some ghost dirt blocks and hid a small room with emergency chests and a fireplace in case of need. They all huddle there when they can't be safe at home <3

ALSO YEAAAA SLEEP CORNER. At first the new members from green find it weird that they're that rich but all sleep together on a bunch of mattresses and pillows, but soon they notice its because they feel safer and comfier and warmer (even if it's just an illusion) when they sleep on a pile <3

Now to pachalo.

Omg the fucking leash thingnsnfnekgsocksfm yesyes. They know this thing will only last 2 weeks and they're gonna get freaky with it‼️‼️ pac doesn't mind bad being the mad dog but he loves to tease and wait for when bad gets too blood thirsty and he goes "don't make me leash you, bad"

It usually makes bad worse :]

Hgghhhhhh okay so in brazil we have a word called cafuné, cafuné is when you caress/play/scritches someone's hair with lots of care. Pac making cafuné on Bad and listening to him purr <3

Also aaaa bad making sure pac is alive and he will stay alive the entire night... The fear something will take Pac away from him on his sleep bc nothing is sacred in Purgatory

FITPACHALO FITPACHALO

Bad being a flustered mess when Fit just YOINKS him is such an imagery. He immediately tries to squirm away like a cat but eventually gives up

Pac is the KING of making Fit flustered, but Bad and Fit tag team to make Pac a flustered mess

Those are HIS humans (or partially humans) NOW!!! GET AWAY!!!

#qsmp #fitpachalo #fitpac #team soulfire

68 notes · View notes

xaeydnquartz · 16 days

Text

Part of me kinda wants to stop DMing my first and current campaign? IDK just need to vent

So, brief expo. like many, got into CR during the pandemic (mainly due to "The Legend of Vox Machina" which lead to me actually bingeing the all 3 campaigns) During which time a friend (who was in my immediate friend group but like the rest of my friend group, i didnt really feel close to) told me that he was really into CR as well. As a fresh new critter, i was stoked. Was able to share my blossoming love of CR with someone (FINALLY!) during which we both mentioned how D&D looked so much fun and that it would be really great to be able to play and ooo what if we got our friends together and played.

After which we discussed, if we did, who would be DM? Seeing as how none of our friends really played D&D our talk lead to either my friend or me and after asking the question "Which do you think you would prefer more?" It was clear i would try my hand at DMing (i like lore in games, and i like storytelling, and im a tad bit of a control freak at times, lol)

Anyway, we eventually got in touch with our close knit of friends, and though i intended to be a standard 6 we suddenly had an 8 party party (and that was with me having to tell even less close friends there wasnt room).

Feeling it would still be manageable (as there was precedent that i could pull inspo from, CR) i began planning a rough idea of a campaign and working with my friends to create their characters and running a session 0 so we were all on the same page. You know standard stuff.

-Fast Forward to current date and time-

It has its stressful moments, but i still am able to enjoy the time with my friends for the most part (though theres a lot of times were ive never felt lonelier) Which brings me to the whole point of the post, my need to vent to the void about this loneliness. Nobody really gets in touch or interacts with me at all. Not to talk about the campaign or even collab on their characters. The most i get are occasional critiques about how i could have done something better couple sessions prior and request to add another person to the 8 person party. When we have sessions, people show up late quite often, leave early quite often, have to cancel as they have other things they are doing (even though we planned and scheduled weeks prior) and even when people are there they somtimes feel like they arent always present. i already feel extremely distant from all of them as they all live closer to each other while i live on the totally opposite side of the state and theyve known each other way longer than i have, but the minimal interactions they have with me, the DM/GM of all people, just continues to add to all of it I know we all are busy with our lives, and that compared to those things D&D is really not that big of a deal or important. And i get that, it is just a game afterall, but it still manages to hit pretty hard

I've communicated my feelings through our time of this campaign, if im being honest, maybe not this indepth. I mean, its partially because i barely see or talk to them (again life gets in the way) but also because i feel extremely guilty for putting this kind of tension to something we are all supposed to be enjoying and relaxing to. Its especially painful as most recently 2 players, who said they would get in touch with me about changes possibly being being made to their characters, never got in touch in anyway shape or form, and its been about a month now? And session is in a week...i didnt even get much as a reply back. Idk, its been almost about a year now and i felt i just needed to get this out somewhere other than debating myself.

Thanks for listening tumblr.

#D&D #Dungeons and Dragons #venting #vent post #its just a game it really isnt a big deal #feels pretty lonely though #not what i was hoping for

26 notes · View notes

genshin-impact-writings · 1 year

Note

hi, can i request the good ol' "treating their wounds" trope with childe? (help im a sucker for it) it'd be nice if you could write a drabble, but a headcanon is also fine ! you seem like a sweet person ngl and i adore your writings <33

It's embarrassing how long this request has been sitting in my inbox, and I'm so sorry that it took me so long to finally write this because it's literally one of my favorite tropes ever. If you're still around, anon, I really hope you enjoy this! <3

Notes: mentions of blood and injuries, reader is a healer and has a cryo vision

Safe in my hands – Childe x gn!reader

It’s already dark outside when a knock on your door interrupts your quiet and peaceful evening. For a moment, you consider to ignore whoever’s outside of your hours right now but when they knock again, more impatiently this time, you sigh and put your book down. Another knock, and you make your way to the hallway, ready to bite the head of your unexpected visitor off as you fling the door open. But the words die on your tongue when you recognize Childe – or rather, the state he’s in. He’s barely able to keep himself upright, clutching his ribs, and his clothes are drenched in blood. Still, he somehow manages to crack a smile. “I know it’s late,” he says and lets out a shaky breath, “but I think I need your help.”

You’re too stunned to speak, so you just drag him inside and shut the door. It’s not the first time he shows up at your doorstep, bleeding and beaten, but it’s most definitely the first time that his injuries are this bad. Archons, you really hope your abilities are good enough to help him.

“I hope this is not your blood,” you say in a miserable attempt to ease the tension that fills your small living room. Childe shakes his head and laughs, a laugh that quickly turns into a cough, and your heart sinks. “You really need to stop being so reckless.”

“Are you worried about me, comrade?”

“No, I’m more worried about the fact that you keep ruining my furniture.” It feels awful to crack jokes in a situation like this but you need to distract yourself from freaking out. Childe is your friend, and it hurts to see him like this. It hurts to know that he’s reckless enough to risk his life just for the thrill of battle. If he continues like this, he’ll get himself killed sooner or later, you’re sure. One day, you might not be able to save him.

But today, you can, so you push these thoughts to the back of your mind and help him take off his jacket. It’s ruined, as well as his maroon colored shirt, but you honestly couldn’t care less about his clothes, especially now that you can clearly see the severity of his injuries to the full extent. His upper body is covered in several cuts and bruises, and his ribcage is bruised as well.

“Not looking too good, hm?” Childe asks, though he probably already knows the answer. With a sigh, you say, “Nothing I can’t deal with. I’ll get a cloth and some water. Some of these cuts look really nasty. Wait here.”

It doesn’t take long to fetch everything you need in your kitchen. When you return to the living room, Childe forces himself to smile once again. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it,” you say as you start to clean a particularly deep cut on his chest. “Now, do you want to tell me what happened out there?”

“Fatui business,” is all he replies, and you nod. He never tells you anything about his work. At first, it has irritated you because you were convinced that he didn’t trust you but now, you know that he keeps his silence to protect you. After all, it’s dangerous to get involved with the Harbingers.

“Okay,” you say and put the cloth aside, “I’m going to heal this cut first, and then I’ll take care of your ribs. Alright?”

He nods. “You’re the healer, comrade. I trust you.”

You take a deep breath and let your hand hover over the cut, focusing on your ability to speed up the cell growth. The injury is bad but you’ve seen worse during the time you have worked as the Milleliths’ healer, and soon enough, the wound stops bleeding, giving you the opportunity to examine it further. It’s already looking a lot better but healing it completely will take a while. “This might hurt,” you warn him, “but afterwards, you’ll feel a lot better.”

He doesn’t flinch, not even once, but the way he presses his lips together is enough to tell you that he’s in pain. “Comrade, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Shut up. I need to focus.”

A few minutes go by, silence settling in until you pull your hand away and let out a sigh of relief. “There,” you say, “as good as new. What about your ribs?”

“I don’t think they’re broken,” Childe replies and sits up, only to let himself fall back against the backrest of your couch, “but they sure hurt.”

“I can help with that.” You suck your lower lip between your teeth, trying very hard not to lose your focus, as you summon Cryo to your fingertips and gently press them against his bruised skin. He hisses in pain but soon enough, you feel his tense muscles relax beneath your touch, and he closes his eyes, a relieved sigh escaping his slightly parted lips.

“Better?” you ask, softly.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

A smile flashes over your face. A smile that quickly fades when you realize that his body is covered in scars, a clear sign that he has been in this spot way too often already. It’s not a deliberate action, nothing you have planned to do, but you raise your hand and carefully trace the faded scar that spreads across his chest. Childe stays perfectly still but you can feel his racing heartbeat underneath your fingers.

“What happened there?” you ask, your voice barely louder than a whisper. Childe turns his head away to avoid your gaze. “The Abyss isn’t exactly a friendly place – especially not when you’re a foolish and overconfident kid.”

Your heart is resting flat on his chest now, right above his heart, your touch still so gently that he feels like he’s going to melt right on the spot. He can’t remember the last time someone has cared about him in the way you do. He knows he should probably pull away but something in him craves this, craves the feeling of security and peace only you can give him. And so, he doesn’t pull away.

Moving your other hand to the back of his neck, you guide him forward until your forehead is pressed against his and the tips of your noses brush together every time one of you moves. This close to him, it’s almost impossible to ignore the rose-colored blush that’s dusting his freckled cheeks, and judging from the way his ocean blue eyes widen just the tiniest bit, he’s well aware of that, too.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” you say quietly. “I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to deal with all of that.”

Childe lets out a shaky breath. It’s rare that he’s at a loss for words but in that moment, it’s like has lost the ability to form a proper sentence. He doesn’t know if it’s because you’re still so close to him or because he’s so taken aback by the fact that you genuinely care about him, despite everything he has done in the past. Most people don’t like being around him, even his parents and older siblings have distanced themselves from him after he joined the Fatui, and sometimes he just feels terribly lonely.

“I’m fine now,” he whispers – and he means it. Here with you, he feels at ease, like nothing else matters, and this time, his smile is genuine. “All thanks to you.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider liking, reblogging and/or leaving feedback. I'd really appreciate the support!

Taglist: @genshinparty @kaeyas-beloved @ajaxstar @caesars-bubbles @the-gayest-sky-kid

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x you #childe fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin fanfic #reader insert #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #childe x gn!reader

167 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs