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#i know it's not the best but i hope it came out well
neil-gaiman · 3 days
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Hi Neil.
I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.
First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.
So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…
Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)
Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.
Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.
(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)
I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.
But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.
I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.
But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.
I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.
It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.
I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.
My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”
But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.
In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.
Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”
As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.
I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…
The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.
So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.
People always say “it’s never too late.”
One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”
I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”
It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.
Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”
But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.
Whew.
So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.
And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.
Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.
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Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)
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jarofstyles · 3 days
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Take Me Higher
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Happy 4/20 my lovelies. I just whipped this up quickly so I hope you guys enjoy it 🫣
Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings!
Send requests here
WC- 2.5k
Warnings- use of marijuana, high users, switch!H, choking, cum play, etc
Picture is not mine, credits to owner
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The smoke had cleared out of the room but it was a bit cold still from the chill of the night. It wasn’t quite warm enough to be spring in her humble opinion, but she’d take what she could get. Plus, Harry had brought her some food stuff for them and she was feeling the effects kicking in as she felt a weight settle on her body. Her eyes were hooded and she was a little giggly as his scent engulfed her, vanilla and tobacco more prominent than the smell she tried to keep from her place.
“Mm… you’re warm.” A cool nose brushed her throat, making her shiver as the man crawled up her body and rested himself on top of her. Harry always got like this when they smoked, but it seemed even more prominent today.
“And you’re a needy little thing.” Fingers carded through his hair, knocking the beanie off his head as he buried his face in her neck. There was no real response except a whine, breath warm on her skin as he tried to warm himself up. The window had to be opened so they’d not get any real complaints from their flat, but luckily they were sure her neighbor wasn’t home today.
Comfortable silence made her melt further into the sofa, the playlist on low as her eyes fluttered shut and she busied herself with playing with his hair. He’d been a good smoking buddy for a while, but she knew why he really came over. It was only a matter of time.
A large hand slipped under her body, wiggling itself under her top to feel the hot expanse of her back. He couldn’t get close enough, needy little thing, and Y/N was fully enjoying being clung to. Physical touch always made the high even better, but that’s just her opinion. Or maybe it was physical touch was better when high? She didn’t know. Her brain didn’t want to analyze that right this second.
“Did you sleep last night? Tired?” Her voice was soft as she didn’t want to disturb the vibe, twirling a curl around her fingertips.
“No.” He shook his head, seeming like he was trying to get into her skin. “Jus’ want to get close to you. You’re warm and you smell fuckin’ incredible.” His voice was a little bit more hoarse, but that was to be expected. “You’re my favorite person... To smoke with.” He added on to the thought hurriedly but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Fingers trailed down her spine, making her shudder a little.
“Hm, is that because I let you eat my pussy?” She smirked, feeling him pull his head form her neck with a glare. Sex with him was fantastic. Maybe it was because they were usually blazed when they did it and they both felt the sensitivity that went with it along with a more intense orgasm. He was the only one who could match her drive when she was like this, so he’d easily become a favorite person of her. Though she had a feeling that he’d do it just as well without the smoking bit, that would be something to unpack at a later date.
“Hey… don’t make me sound like a lecher.” He pouted, sending her heart to beat a bit harder. One thing she’d give the man was that he was adorable. “Not the only reason. I love doin’ that but… you have the best snacks n’you let me talk about anything. Your cunt is just a bonus… though I really do love it.” Harry wasn’t usually super shy, but sometimes he got a bit bashful when it came to Y/N. There was a slight hesitation as he let their noses brush, ghosting his lips over hers. “Can I?”
“So sweet for asking.” Y/N cooed, smiling n at his request. He wanted to kiss her. She could taste how bad he wanted it when the high had hit him, but now he wasn’t able to hold back much. “Go ahead, pretty boy. Since you seem to like it so much.”
Harry was a little messy with it, smearing their lips together and grazing his teeth over her bottom lip. There wasn’t much to hide his desperation as he adjusted himself on top of her, pulling one of her legs to wrap around his hip. “I do.” He breathed before licking into her mouth. Her lips were so sweet and soft, tasting like the cola she’d drank and mint chapstick. His favorite thing. Pulling apart with a soft clicking sound, he let out a groan as he looked down at her. Her bun was all messed up with some flyaways, lips wet and eyes hazy. His favorite sight. Seeing he undone when usually she was so put together, knowing he’d been the one to get to see her like this… it did things to his “I really fucking do.”
Y/N whimpered as he devoured her. His tongue hot in her mouth and his hand gripping her thigh to keep her close, she couldn’t help but grow hot when she felt him against her. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last, but it still surprised her every time. How had she ever fit that inside of her? Tightening her legs around his hips, she heard the hitch in his breathing before he pulled away from her lips to groan. It gave her a chance to pull her shirt off her body, exposing her tits to him.
Harry nearly whimpered at the sight of them, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips before making his way down. “Fuck, the things you do t’me.” He whispered, moving closer to her breasts. “Can I kiss on them a bit, pretty? It’ll feel good.” He pleaded, sighing against the skin as she nodded at the request.
Sponging kisses all over the swells, he gently rocked his hips into hers to relieve a bit of the ache. His cock was thick and throbbing, desperate for some relief. The hear of her cunt could he felt through her panties, making Harry thank whatever higher power that she’d chosen the big shirt no pants combination today. “Gorgeous. You’re so pretty, all over.” He praised, puckering his lips over a nipple for a kiss. She shivered under him, her grip in his hair getting fuller as he brought it into his mouth.
Y/N sighed in pleasure as his hot mouth suckled on her. She’d loved when he did this last time, licking over her tits while he was inside of her. He was still clothed this time but somehow that was just as hot to her. Panties were ruined regardless, but she arched her back slightly as he took more of her breast into his mouth and rolled his tongue around the nipple. “Oh, shit.” The girl whimpered, rocking her hips in return. The stimulation made her head cloudy, or maybe it was the blunt, but she didn’t really care. It all felt so fucking good, it didn’t matter. “Harry… you’re so nice t’me.” She sighed, watching him pull off with a soft ‘pop’.
“I know, sweetheart. It’s what you deserve, yeah? So nice to me too…” he sighed into her chest, placing wet kisses to the skin that glistened in the light, leaving cool spots once he left. “Let me come over and smoke, let me eat your snacks, kiss your pretty mouth… let me taste you, sometimes let me feel that perfect little pussy wrapped around me… have t’be nice to my girl.”
She didn’t have a chance to answer before he repeated the process with her other nipple, making her pant. The grinding was getting harder, her breathing matching it as he rubbed over her clit in the motions. Back and forth, sweet relief as she spread herself out further and clutched his head to her breast as he worshiped them. “Fuck me, keep going like that and M’gonna cum.” She warned him, though she had no real want of him stopping.
“So cum.” He mumbled into her skin. “Won’t be the last time you do it tonight.” And oh- oh. He sounded so self assured and cocky and it did something to her, a zap of electricity to her tummy as she moaned into the air, clinging to him.
His back was firm under her hands, not stopping herself from sliding them unde this tee shirt. His skin was burning under her palms as she dragged her nails lightly down his shoulder blades. “Harder.” He instructed, rutting into her with more force. “Scratch me. S’okay.” He couldn’t help connecting their mouths again, fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh as it clung to him.
She did as asked, surprising her when he let out a deeper groan than she’d heard before. His hips quickened, sure his gray sweats were ruined but uncaring about anything else. “Gonna make me cum in my joggers.” He panted against her lips, unable to keep himself from touching her. His mouth was a magnet to her body, his cock throbbing and balls feeling exceptionally full as he dry fucked her.
“Mm… here.” She momentarily reached between them and tugged them down far enough that he was out of them. “Cum on my panties.” Her voice rang into his ears. “Already ruined them. Can’t you feel how wet you made me?” And fuck, could he.
Without the sweats in the way he could feel her soaked through panties wetting his prick, the heat of her through the barely there fabric making him insane. Though the real thing that got him was her request. “You really want that?” He questioned, buttoning their lips together for a moment because he simply couldn’t help it. “You want t’be sticky with my load all over your panties and your skin? I’ve got so much for you…” he wasn’t joking either. It had been a bit since they’d hung out and his hand didn’t do him as much justice as she could. His dick desperately missed her.
“You know I don’t mind a mess, Harry.” She purred, moving a hand to wrap around his throat. “And you’ll be a good boy and lick it off my skin, won’t you? Then you’ll lick my pretty pussy until you’re ready to fuck me. Because you’re always such a good boy for me…”
Oh, fuck. Harry whimpered at the feeling of her hand around his throat, the drop of his guilty pleasure nickname, immediately feeling the shift. He was determined to please her before, but this tone of voice and her slight overtaking made him a bit pathetic. “Yes- yeah, M’gonna do it.” He promised, adjusting them slightly so he tip could brush right over her clit. “Anything you want. Want t’make you feel so good. M’good for you.” He nodded, messily kissing her again as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.
Y/N hummed in pleasure as he got them to the right position. His hard cock rutting against her like the fabric wasn’t even there, thick and hot. She loved feeling him, knowing she’d done that to him. Her stomach tightened as she felt the perfect thrust from him, gasping into his mouth. “Oh- yes, like that. Keep it light that, baby.” She pleaded, mouth falling open as he repeated it. “Mhm… there. Gonna cum.” She had been worked up for a little bit now but feeling his need to please her helped her get there.
“Please, please do it. Want you to cum, want you to feel so good… you’re so perfect, please cum for me. Give it to me, fuckin’ goddess….” He spoke to her like he needed her orgasm to breathe. Whimpery and needy and unlike how he usually sounded, but with his perfect angle and the friction against her clit combined with that, she was pushed over the edge.
“Yes- yes, fuck me.” Head falling further back into the cushions, she dug her nails into his back with one hand while the other tightened on his throat. Sparks igniting her nerves and her legs held on to him like a lifeline as she came. Harry never knew a prettier sight in his life than how she looked when he made her orgasm.
“Give me it too, H. Make me a sticky mess so you can clean me.” She gasped out. “You’ve been so good, I know you can give me what I want. Please?” Her voice shook slightly. “Give me what I want.” Giving just the slightest bit more pressure to the fingers on the sides of his throat, she knew exactly how much to press to make him lightheaded. Choking was a weakness of his, something that made him cum embarrassingly fast a lot of the time, but this time he was grateful as he let out a sob. His prick was slick with her and aching to release but he tried to hold back for her sake. With the mix of the high being at its height, the sensitivity overwhelming him and how she knew exactly how to touch him- The moment she called him a good boy and gave him the head rush he needed, he was a fucking goner.
“Gonna cum, gonna cum, M’gonna cum-“ he babbled her name as he found his release. Jerking against her, hot ribbons of the pearly cum shot against the covered cunt and over her tummy. His balls pulsed as he unloaded on her, smearing it over himself and her as his hips sloppily worked him through the orgasm. Face slack in rapture, he let out a hoarse groan as the last of it spilled from his tip, hips jerking a few times before he felt her hand fall and his mouth descended on hers again.
“You’re gonna be the end of me, hm?” He slurred, biting her lip with a hum before he lowered his body onto hers. His prick was sensitive but he made no move to pull back, pecking her over and over again as she caressed his cheek with her choking hand. Y/N was by far the best at it regardless, intuition leading her to know exactly what he liked. “Feel like m’fucking floating. Dunno if it’s the high or your cunt.” He snickered, feeling her return the laugh.
“Probably a mix of both.” She smiled, giving him a few kisses of her own. “But we’ve got plenty to keep it going for a while. Are you up for it, pretty boy?” The girl had no plans but to be blazed and fucked for the rest of the night, and she hoped he was on the same page.
“M’up for anything, you fuckin’ goddess.” He mumbled as he sat up on his knees to look at the mess they’d made. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, her cunt and little thatch of hair visible through the now transparent fabric and splattered with cum on the ruined panties and her tummy. It made his mouth water just looking at it. “Jesus… look at this.” He mumbled, spreading her further open with his hand. “Seems like I’ve got a lot of work to do, don’t I?”
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jaylaxies · 3 days
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INTO YOU
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PAIRING: jay x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, slight gun play, mentions of smoking, usage of nicknames, fingering, pussy slapping, breeding, enemies to possible lovers.
SYNOPSIS: everyone knows that your families hate each other, being the biggest rivals in terms of business, however, you both don’t seem to care much about it.
WC: 1.9k
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, loves! happy jay birth <3 i had to write something for my man cmon, i hope you guys will like it :3 (not proofread) all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
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Blinding chandelier lights, fancy gowns, fake laughs paired with endless supply of sparkly champagne. Countless camera flashes, and an even faker demeanor as the guests pose and show their best game. 
It was yet another weekend; yet another charity ball organized by someone so filthy rich, who didn’t mean to do any charity, but rather, put up a façade well enough simply to expand their business connections. 
You watched it unfold from afar, like always, judging everyone as you swirled the drink in the delicate glass which rested on your fingertips, looking for something , or rather, someone to appear and get this boring excuse of an event going. 
Your family was close with the Kims, meaning, you’d probably, just probably spend your night with no drama at all, not expecting the Kims to invite the family which is your so-called rival. 
So you decided to mingle along, putting on your sweetest smile as you strolled through the big ball room, the slit in your dress allowing the cold air to grace your legs in the otherwise warm room, until it didn’t. 
The warmth of a hand encasing your wrist was enough for you to stop, the scent itself was a giveaway of the identity of the one who stopped you in the middle of the crowded floor, a sly smile draping your face with his action. 
“Getting into a party without an invitation is rude, don’t you think?” You asked. 
He scoffed, which came out as a breathy laugh, “that is exactly why I made sure that Mr. Kim would deliver the invitation personally to me,” he clicked his tongue. 
You rolled your eyes, turning your head to the side, looking right into his dark eyes before giving him a once over, almost in a condescending manner as if you were judging his entire existence. 
He had another one of his proud smirks plastered on his face, specs perched on his strong, pointy nose, his lips the perfect shade of pinkish-red, resonating perfectly with his melanin. Clad in a black tuxedo, he stood there as if he was the most important man in the room. 
Park Jongseong. 
“That desperate for what? A party?” You clicked your tongue as a challenge. 
His hand only shifted from your wrist to your waist, pulling you closer to his chest effortlessly, earning a gasp out of you, “for a party, yes. You know it, princess.” 
That’s exactly when you heard a louder gasp as you pushed him away. Your mother dearest had spotted his mother in the crowd, both of them coming along to meet right where you were standing. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Your mom asked, trying to put on a fake smile so as to not alarm others. 
“We were invited, of course,” the lady spoke up, a sick smile on her face. 
“Or yet, begged Mr. Kim to be invited here,” you smiled back, looking at Jay right after, who was only amused. 
But none of your family members were amused as they scowled, “stay the fuck away from her,” your mother said, pulling you back from Jay. 
“Ask her to stay away from my son,” Mrs. Park spat, pulling Jay back. 
“Who even wants to be with him?” You scrutinized him again with a bored expression. 
“You do, princess,” he winked, making you scoff in disbelief as he said it in front of your mother. 
“Shut up!” Your mother said, having had enough. 
You both had the corner of your lips upturned by the time your mothers pulled you away, far from each other, his eyes shining as you bit your lip. 
Your mom was frustrated and it showed, especially when she reached out to your father, filling him in with the events of what happened a few minutes back. 
However, you didn’t care, simply getting away from your family as you started roaming around yet again, patting your thigh gently to feel your gun in its holster—something you kept for safety. 
Everyone around you did. 
The party didn’t feel as boring anymore, not when you got out of the main ballroom, opening the door towards the secluded balcony; which you were sure would be empty. 
And you were right. It was small, secluded, facing the grand gardens of the villa, two big vintage lamps keeping the balcony well illuminated as you took out the cigarette you had hidden in your pocket along with your heart shaped lighter. 
A dress with pockets? A blessing from the lords. 
Holding the stick between your glossed up lips, you flicked the lighter, bringing it closer to the cigarette as it burned, your eyes closing the second you inhaled the smoke, using your middle and index finger to hold it away as you leaned against the cold marble wall.  
Park Jongseong. 
Your wrist still burned from when he gripped it, your waist still feeling the warmth of his hand as your silk down did nothing to hide your figure. You found yourself thinking about him again, the proximity was enough for his scent to invade your senses. 
Your body became hyper aware as you found yourself close to the similar scent again. 
“Smoking is bad for your health, princess,” he spoke, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. 
You smiled, not opening your eyes as you lifted your hand to take another puff of smoke, only for Jay to snatch it up, standing right in front of you, his free hand gripping your chin, your eyes opening to find his face inches away from you. 
“Getting too bold, are we now?” He asked. 
“Maybe,” you shrugged, challenging him. 
“Yeah. I don’t fuck you for one night and you turn into a fucking brat? Is that how you want it, princess? Want me to fuck some manners into you?” He came even closer, turning his head to take the cigarette between his lips, breathing the smoke in before he threw it away. 
Grabbing your chin harder, he tilted your head ever so slightly, causing you to gasp and open your mouth, dazed. 
He blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled it all in, blowing it out of your nose while not breaking eye contact, another shiver running down your body as his fingertips traced your thigh, inching upwards to where your holster was. 
“Jay—” you breathed out, biting your bottom lip. 
“Shh, princess. Who would even want me, right? I’ll show you exactly how much you need me,” he chuckled, his lips touching your ear. 
He was quick to get your gun out, your mind too blank as you were sandwiched between him and the wall. The cold muzzle of the gun was pressed against your inner thigh now. 
“Please,” you begged. 
“Please what?” He urged you to speak up, the slit of your dress allowing him to graze it up your thigh and near your panties which were starting to get wet. 
“I want—” you started and he only pressed the gun right on your clothed cunt, your eyes closing again, your body felt as if it was on fire, a low whine leaving your mouth. 
“Say it, princess,” he groaned, his lips near the corner of your mouth. 
“I want you, I—I need you,” you managed to speak up, your whimpers were enough for his cock to start hardening, even more now that his body was pressed against your. 
He moved the gun in slow circles, your wetness dripping down on it till it reached his hands, as you held on to his arm for support, not being able to stand straight. 
“See? It wasn’t too hard, was it?” He asked, pressing the gun right where your hole was, stuffing it in slightly through your panties, your whines turning into moans as he grabbed your jaw again, “never forget that you belong to me,” was all he said before pulling you in a deep, rushed kiss. 
His free hand held on to your wrist, curling his fingers around it hard, his teeth nibbling on your lips before he spit in your mouth, not wasting a second before he shoved his tongue in your mouth. 
You could barely breathe, whimpering out his name desperately, trying to move your hips to get even a fraction of more friction from the gun. 
“That’s it baby, keep making those noises for me, yeah?” He spoke in between the kisses, finally having had enough of the gun as he kept it aside. 
It didn’t take him a second to push your panties to the side, covering his fingers in your dripping juices as you bit back a moan, which didn’t last for long as he stuffed you full of his fingers, making you lose control of the last bit of your sanity. 
Your wetness was enough for his fingers to slide in easily, which wasn’t enough for Jay as he curled them inside you, “tell me who you belong to, princess?” 
“You—you.” Your eyes watered as you moaned it out, and he slapped your cunt right that second, your eyes rolling back at the pain which felt more like pleasure than anything else, your breathing hitched as he did so again before he stuffed three of his fingers into you again, fucking you deeper than ever while kissing your neck, harsh enough for it to bruise later. 
He had been going at it for minutes and yet it felt like mere seconds before he took his fingers out, licking them and turning you around, your cheek resting on the cold wall. 
As much as he wanted to tear your dress off, he didn’t do that, and you could feel your tears streaming down your face, frustrated as he stopped right before you were about to cum, your cunt clenching around nothing as you heard him undo his belt. 
You knew his cock was thick and veiny, but it still shocked you, especially when he lined up his cock to your entrance, rubbing his tip, soaking it with your wetness which dripped down your thighs. You could barely breathe anymore, especially when his cock slid right in with how wet you were, reaching the deepest spots in you, his big hand spanking your ass right as he bottomed out. 
Broken moans were all that your mouth could let out by now, along with his name, which you kept on repeating like a broken record. 
His thrusts were brutal, almost as if he was using you like a doll and you were simply taking it like you were meant to. 
It felt too good. 
“Such a good girl, you’re taking me so well.”
The way your pussy sucked him in was driving Jay crazy as he groaned near your ear, biting your shoulder right after, his balls slamming against your ass and he didn’t bother slowing down, not when you were clenching around him like that. 
He held you up, knowing that your legs couldn’t keep you up anymore, not when your mind was blank and you were crying, begging for release. 
“Cum for me, princess,” he whispered, pinching your nipples as you let out another moan, which sounded like a scream with how frustrated you were, his thrusts getting faster and faster. 
“I’ll fill you up good, yeah? Gonna keep my cum in your cunt?” He asked, his voice even deeper as he hit your g-spot. 
You nodded, letting out a broken yes in reply, which was all it took for your eyes to close again, your legs shaking as Jay filled you up the very second you came all around his cock, creaming it beautifully in the essence of your unadulterated pleasure. 
“You were right,” you breathed out, holding on to him. 
“Yeah?” He asked. 
“Yeah. I need you, always.” 
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euphorajeon · 2 days
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trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)
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— pairing: jk x f. reader
— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)
— word count: 12.4k
— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]
— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.
— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!
masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist
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There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)
Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)
Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.
With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.
“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.
“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”
“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”
“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.
You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”
“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”
“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”
His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”
“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”
Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.
“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.
“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”
The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??
Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.
Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.
As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.
Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.
As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.
When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.
Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.
You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.
“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”
“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”
“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”
Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.
“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”
“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”
“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”
In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.
He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?
Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?
His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.
Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)
Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?
Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.
Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.
Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.
“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”
“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.
“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”
“No worries, Kiddo.”
Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?
“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”
Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?
“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”
As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”
Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.
“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.
“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”
If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”
“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?
“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”
It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?
Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”
So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.
The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.
Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.
No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.
“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.
“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”
“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”
“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”
“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.
“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.
“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.
“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”
Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)
“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.
“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”
“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”
“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”
“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.
“What? He said it’s healing!”
It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.
After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”
You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.
Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”
“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.
“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”
“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”
“Yep.”
“Cool. See you then.”
Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.
“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”
“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.
“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”
“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”
(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)
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“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”
You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.
“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”
“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.
“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.
“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.
“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.
“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”
“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”
You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.
Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.
“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”
“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”
“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”
Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.
Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.
“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”
When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”
The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”
“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.
“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”
“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”
“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”
“JIMIN!”
When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”
So much for sound solution.
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You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.
“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.
Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”
“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”
“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.
“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”
“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.
With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”
“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.
Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.
“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.
“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”
“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”
You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”
In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.
It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:
Jeongguk’s hair is mint.
Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.
The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.
It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.
“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”
The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.
You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.
Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”
“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)
“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.
You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.
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After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.
Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.
Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.
You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.
You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.
“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.
You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.
When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.
You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.
Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.
As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.
When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.
“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”
“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”
“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”
“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”
You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.
“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”
Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.
The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.
Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.
Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.
The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.
Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.
“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.
“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.
“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.
So instead, you lash out at your boss.
“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.
The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”
“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”
Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.
“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.
“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.
“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.
Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.
“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”
Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.
Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”
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“Stop moving around!”
“It hurts!”
You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.
“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.
“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”
“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.
“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”
The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”
“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”
With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.
“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.
“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”
Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.
Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.
Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.
The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!
Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.
Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.
“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”
“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”
You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.
“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.
“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”
“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”
“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.
“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.
Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.
Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.
“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”
“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.
“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”
“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”
The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.
You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.
While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.
“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.
“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.
Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)
And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.
“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”
“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.
“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”
“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.”
The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.
Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.
He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.
“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”
Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.
God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.
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Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.
“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”
There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”
“You want to injure your shoulder?”
He gives you a flat look. You giggle.
“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”
Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”
“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”
“What? To not be jealous of him?”
You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”
“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”
“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”
More silence ensues.
“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”
“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”
Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.
“How about an apology?” he offers.
“In what form?” you challenge.
“Round three?”
“No.”
Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.
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a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)
916 notes · View notes
sixosix · 2 days
Note
STOOPPP I LOVE THE CREATIVITY OF YOUR EVENT
ALSO. TURNING EIGHTEEN?? HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN ADVANCE 🎊🥳🎉🎈 AND CONGRATS ON 5K REEEEEEE YOU DESERVE EVERY LAST BIT OF SUPPORT !!!!
Can I request something with heizou with glasses as the object? Fluff, please, and I can't wait to see what you'll come up with for this event!!!!!!
wc 500, modern high school au; thank you so much!! :D YOU ARE SO SWEET!! i hope u enjoy this bc i recognize u as one of my loyal readers i gotta not disappoint!
5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST
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“How about you, bro? Do you have a crush on anyone in this room?”
Itto was looking at Heizou with wide eyes, expectant. You had no idea how free-time led straight to this conversation, but everyone was sharing their crushes in the other class or a whole school away. Most of the class was huddled together in a circle, watching the exchange with equal faces of amusement and anticipation. You sat on the same side but made yourself comfortable in a corner, swaddled in a brown cloud-patterned hoodie.
Heizou hummed thoughtfully, drawing it out as everyone else held their breath while you held in a laugh. “A crush? Why do you want to know?”
“Come on, dude, we all wanna know what Shikanoin Heizou’s type is! Right? Don’t we?” Itto grinned at the affirmative murmurs that erupted all around. Perhaps it was because, to them, Heizou was the most mysterious one of all—he knows everything about anyone, but it wasn’t the same when it came to him.
Heizou just laughed. Itto pouted, then whipped his head around to direct his attention to you.
Flinching under his fiery gaze, you demanded, “W-What?”
“You’re best bros with him, aren’t you? You gotta know what his type is! He never talks about the girls in our school!”
Well. It would be for the best if he didn’t. You shook your head and matched Heizou’s amused grin. “I don’t know, either, honestly. He’s probably too busy burying his face in mystery novels to care about all that.”
Itto visibly sagged. “Lame. You two are so lame! Well— what about you? Do you have a type?”
“Of course I do.” The class perked up, interested. They began piping up with a list of names and features—tall, serious, light-haired. Heizou was slowly getting more agitated by each feature that described his complete opposite. “I like smart guys.”
Itto nodded. “I guess you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”
You chuckled. “You got me right there.”
Heizou’s chair scraped the floor, followed by his light footsteps. You watched, heart racing, as he made his way towards you before pinning his arms on your desk.
“You never told me that,” Heizou said. “Have I told you my type?”
You grinned. “Do you even have one?”
Heizou drew closer. Your vision blurred, and you went cross-eyed trying to follow him. Lumine, who was sitting peacefully beside you, inched away.
“When they wear glasses—just like this one,” Heizou whispered, your lenses fogging a little from his breath.
Your face burned.
“Wait, what? What did he say? Did anyone catch that?” Itto huffed when no one did, in fact, hear that—which was for the best. They didn’t have to know how deep Heizou’s voice got as he stared right into your eyes.
“Well,” Heizou leaned back and smiled innocently at the class and a despaired Itto, “this was an enlightening conversation, but I realized I don’t actually know my best bud that well. You understand, right, Itto?”
Itto nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah—yes! I know, man, I get it. Real buds have serious conversations—I understand. You’re welcome for rekindling your friendship.”
“Thanks, man,” Heizou said distractedly, taking your hand and leading you out of the classroom.
“They’re such best buds,” Itto said, starting to cry.
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rainylana · 2 days
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“I’m not always bad.” Part two!
Eddie Munson x female reader
warnings: readers dad has cancer, enemies to lovers, (bullies reader in part one), language, mentions of religion and prayer, depression and anxiety. a lot of angst and fluff.
note: let me know if you want a third part!
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Eddie backed off. Whatever class you shared, passing by each other in the hallway or the cafeteria, he backed off. He didn’t bother you, didn’t even look at you. Well, that wasn’t true. He looked, but only when you weren’t aware of it. It had been two weeks since you had broke down in front of him, and as each day passed, he could see you start to slip, start to deteriorate right in front of him. Everyone else was seeing it too.
You weren’t doing as much makeup like you normally did. Instead of putting on a full face, you applied some mascara. Instead of dressing up, you preferred sweats and a hoodie, your hair put up and away so you didn’t have to deal with it.
You weren’t bringing your lunch anymore, surviving off the snacks your friends would make you eat. You didn’t answer questions in class. You weren’t you, anymore. In just two weeks, you’d completely changed, and Eddie, most of all, didn’t like it.
He should talk to you. That’s what he should do, instead of staring at you all day. Over that time, he began to realize his feelings for you were not just hatred.
The day came when he decided he would say something. Say what, he didn’t know, but he needed to speak with you, needed to know that you were…okay, given the circumstances.
“And I don’t know if you can hear me, or…even care about what’s happening to my family, but please, God, please, I can’t watch him die. Mama can’t watch him die. Please make him better, I beg of you.” Your hands were folded above your knees, tears on your face and mascara smudged down your cheeks. You were at lovers lake, an isolated side of the park that was overgrown and lonely, much like yourself these days.
There was a singular picnic table, an old, rundown cabin that was falling apart. You’d only been through this area a few times, but the isolation made you feel welcome and at peace, hoping maybe that God could hear your prayers just a little louder here.
“Amen.” You sniffled, wiping your tears and sitting there emotionlessly. You stared at your hands in front of you, too scared to move, too scared to go home. You found yourself always scared, always anxious and alert. Your father was diagnosed with stage four liver cancer and was only given six months to live at best. You didn’t think you could go back to life before you’d been called down to the kitchen for a family meeting.
“Hey.”
You jumped, alert and alarmed at the voice that emerged through the wooded trail. You placed a hand over your heart, calming when you realized who it was.
“Eddie?” You asked, confused. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry,” He held up a hand. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your…” He trailed off. “I walk here a lot.”
That wasn’t true. Eddie didn’t like to walk, or any form of exercise, for that matter. He’d followed you, listened to your entire prayer and cry for help, only to come out when your finished crying. It was hot out today, but that didn’t change his normal attire. Black jeans, ripped at the knees. White t-shirt with a little grease. His hair was extra shaggy due to the humidity. He had a bead of sweat forming above his lip.
“That’s okay.” You said meekly, looking back down at your fingers.
He stood their awkwardly, scratching the back of his sweaty neck. “Look, I can go-”
“No, no.” You waved a hand. “I should go. This isn’t my-”
“Don’t go!” He interrupted you, taking a step and stopping you from getting up off the picnic table. “I uh- sit.” He said to you, doing so himself, sitting across from you.
You weren’t aware just how much of a mess you looked, having forgotten about the tears and makeup mess on your face. He stared at you for a moment, watching you watch the lake. You were blushing—or, were you just red faced from crying?
Eddie gulped, not knowing what to say. A simple how are you would suffice, but he couldn’t seem to get it out.
“Do you need something?” Your eyes panned over to him, sunken and shallow. “I don’t have the homework done if that’s what you’re wanting.”
He hadn’t asked for it in weeks.
“How are you doing?” He bounced his knee, clasping his fingers together in front of him. “With…you know.”
You stared at him, and for a moment, you gave him that same look you did two weeks ago. Bewilderment, shock. But only for a moment, because you simply did not have the energy to put on a show, or care. Eddie noticed.
“I don’t know how to answer that.” You said honestly. “I guess I’m fine.”
“It doesn’t seem that way.” He was looking at you through thick lashes, analyzing your every move, like you were his prey. “Nobody knows yet, do they?”
You tried not to cry. You didn’t want to again, especially not in front of him. You’d already made a fool of yourself once.
“Just family.” You whispered.
You weren’t stupid. You knew Eddie felt bad for you. You’d cracked away at his hard shell and found some emotion inside of him. You just wished it wasn’t at your expense, and you didn’t need his pity.
“Do you need anything?” He found himself asking, quickly looking down to his own hands that he fiddled with, decorated in rings and cat scratches.
This was exactly what you didn’t need. You didn’t want a spotlight on you. You didn’t want him looking at you like you were going to break any second. You didn’t need Eddie Munson as your friend.
“No.” You shook your head. “But I do need to go.” He watched you stand up, and by your shaky hands, he knew you were still very upset. Had he upset you? Should he not have reached out to you.
“Y/n, wait!” He followed after you on the trail.
“What?” You whirled around. “God, Eddie, what is it?” Your eyes were round and wide, alarmed and scared.
He looked taken back, shooing a fly away from his face. “I just- I…I’m really sorry about your dad. I can see that it’s bothering you.” What a dumb thing to say! Of course it’s bothering her!
Don’t take it out on him. He didn’t do this. He didn’t cause it. He’s looking out for you. Him, of all people.
“Thank you, Eddie.” You gave him a smile mixed with a frown. “But I’m fine, I’ll see you in school tomorrow.”
You left and he didn’t follow, and when he no longer could see you, he swore he heard the sound of someone sobbing.
Three days later and you still hadn’t told your friends. You knew you had to soon. They were concerned. Your teachers knew now, your mom had told the principal, after he had called your parents about your grades. You didn’t get in trouble, they all understood.
You were going in and out of listening to Chrissy talk about prom, your eyes filled with what felt like water and air. You felt like you were drowning. Your eyes burned and felt clouded, your vision was blurry. Your throat burned and you seemed to gasp for air, but you couldn’t. You sat there and listened, drowning inside.
But when you felt something sharp, piercing and full of concern fall upon your face, you looked over and found the hellfire table, their master, staring at you. Eddie was staring at you. You locked eyes with him briefly before turning back to Chrissy.
Two more days passed and everyone knew. You didn’t know how it got out, but you knew it would have sooner or later. You just wished it was later. Everyone was staring at you in class, including Eddie, and by lunch time, the cafeteria went completely silent when you entered. You could take the I’m sorry’s and the I’m here for you’s. You couldn’t take being watched, couldn’t take being talked about and whispered about behind someone else’s back.
You had turned quickly on your heal, flashing an angry emotion across your face that Eddie hadn’t seen in quite some time. You slammed open the doors and walked down the hall with a quick speed. Each step you took, your breathing got heavier and heavier, your head felt lighter and lighter.
You were gulping, choking on your sobs as you rounded the corner and ran down the stairwell.
I’ve gotta get out of here. I’ve got to get out of here.
When you tripped and fell flat on your face, that seemed to be the final straw. You screamed, cursing at the universe, god, whoever, as you stood back up.
“Y/n!” Eddie came running up behind you, panting just as quickly as you were. He widened his eyes at your state. “Hey, hey,” He rushed to you, and you couldn’t help it. You melted into his arms. You let him hold you.
Your limbs gripped his shirt tightly, pulling like he was a rope, and sobbed into his shoulder. You didn’t know why, but in that moment, there wasn’t anyone else you needed more than him.
“Thanks for the ride.” You said hoarsely.
It was only one o’clock, but Eddie offered to drive you home. You let him, not able to imagine going back to class after the scene you had made.
“Don’t mention it.” He out the van in park, arm stretched out to the wheel. “You gonna be alright?”
You nodded, tugging at your hoodie, “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You said quietly, excluded of emotion.
“Listen, about what happened at school,” He started, turning in his seat. “Everyone’s just surprised, that’s all. It’s like gossip to them. They’ll forget about it eventually.” He searched your eyes, hoping to make you feel better. “Are you hearing me?”
“Yeah.” You sighed. “I’m just…I don’t know. I might take a break for a few days. Maybe they’ll have dropped it by then.”
He didn’t want to go a day without seeing you. He was becoming more and more concerned, more and more attached, curious. You were becoming the very thing that kept him awake at night. He didn’t know why, but god, were you absolutely beautiful.
“Bye, Eddie,” You reached over and squeezed his knee. “Thanks for everything.”
He watched you walk inside, only seeing a small portion of your home on the inside. He hoped you would dream sweet things that night.
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mysteryshoptls · 21 hours
Text
SSR Vil Schoenheit - Luxe Couture Vignette
"My orders are absolute"
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[Fairest City – Queen's Palace]
Announcer: The curtain rises on this year's Fairest City's International Film Festival. And today... Please take a gander around me!
Announcer: Queen's Palace is completely flooded with the press and movie fans. Enthusiasm is in full force!
Announcer: With so many filmmakers and actors present, this is the event of the season. Let's chat with a few of them.
Announcer: Hello! Which production are you most excited to see during this film fest?
Movie Fan A: WELL, OF COURSE, THE LIVE-ACTION BEAUTIFUL QUEEN MOVIE!!
Movie Fan A: Ever since I was a kid, I've always loved the animated movie on the Fairest Queen and her spirit of tenacity.
Movie Fan A: I'm really looking forward to the live-action remake! Can't wait to see what other info they drop during the film fest.
Announcer: The anticipation is immense! Alright, next… Hey, you over there! And why have you come to Queen's Palace?
Movie Fan B: There's someone I really really need to see…! You know how there's going to be a screening for the Beautiful Queen?
Movie Fan B: I was hoping maybe, just maybe, my most beautiful bias would make a surprise appearance, so I came here!
Announcer: Oho, I see. And who is it you're such a fan of?
Movie Fans: LOOK, IT'S VIL SHOENHEIT!!
Movie Fan B: Yeah, my fave is Vil… HUH!?
Announcer: Everyone, please take a look! Vil Schoenheit has arrived here at Queen's Palace!!
Movie Fans: KYAAAAAAA, VIL-SAMAAAAA!!
Ace: Woah, this is crazy! There's so much screaming for Vil-senpai that I can feel it vibrating my whole body!!
Jamil: Don't lose focus. Our job here is to protect Vil-senpai from his enthused fans and the media.
Azul: Indeed. As recompense for these Luxe couture garments, we must put forth our labor as compensation.
Vil: That's right. [Yuu], Ace, Grim. I expect the three of you to properly carry out your roles as well.
[Yuu nods]
Ace: I mean, since I've got on this Luxe couture fit on, so. I gotta make sure make it look cool, don't I?
Vil: Absolutely. I need you to look your best so you can be of the utmost use for me.
[click! snap!!]
Cameraman: It's Vil Schoenheit!! I gotta snap as many pictures as I can from all angles!
Vil: Hello, everyone, are you all enjoying this very special day?
Movie Fan B: KYAAAAAAA! VIL-SAMAAAA!! I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO MEET YOUUUUU!!!!!
[Vil waves hand with a sparkle]
Movie Fan B: Ooahh, he waved at me! Now I can… die without regrets…
[faints with a thud]
Movie Fan C: PLEASE SPARE ME A GLANCE TOO, VIL-SAMA!
[Vil looks over with a sparkle]
Movie Fan C: THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFEEEE!
[faints with a thud]
Azul: Amazing… Fans are dropping like flies just from meeting Vil-san's eyes…
Jamil: Even when we find erratic people in the crowd, they're instantly affected by Vil-senpai's beauty.
Ace: And this guy's just as stoic as ever even seeing the crowd act like this… Vil Schoenheit is way too incredible!
1. He's so enchanting… 2. I can't stop taking pictures…!
Vil: Don't be content just yet. We're just getting started.
Vil: We'll make sure that no one ever forgets my momentous walk down the tapis rouge.
Vil: Jamil, bring that to me.
Jamil: Of course, I have it right here.
Announcer: Vil Schoenheit has stopped on the tapis rouge and has been handed a box.
Announcer: What could possibly be in the box? …It's an apple! Vil Schoenheit is now holding an apple!
[green smoke starts to surround Vil]
Announcer: Oh? And now he's surrounded by smoke… I can't see Vil Schoenheit at all.
Announcer: What is happening…? Huh!?
Vil: NOW, EVERYONE KEEP YOUR EYES ON ME, THE FAIREST ONE OF ALL!
Fans: WOOOOOOOOOOAH! / KYAAAAA!!!!
Announcer: B-B-B-Beautiful!!! He's so beautiful… More beautiful than I could possibly imagine!!!
Grim: That guy with the mic can't say nothin' other than beautiful anymore.
Ace: Haha, he's even stolen the announcer's vocab away. I'd expect nothing less from Vil-senpai.
Cameraman: Look at his spectacular attire, and his flawless posing…! This is out best chance to snag all the photos!!
[click! snap, snap!!]
Vil: Heh. Just as I expected, the reception is fantastic.
Azul: Indeed. Your design was a grand success. This was a fantastically gorgeous idea fit for this stage.
Vil: It's much too early to be complacent. All of you, make sure you follow me closely.
Jamil/Azul/Grim/Ace: Yes, sir! / Got it!
[Yuu nods]
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[Fairest City – Queen's Palace]
[Vil talking to others]
Ace: Hey, hey, [Yuu]! That person Vil-senpai is talking to right now…
1. They're definitely that one recently popular singer. 2. I feel like I've seen them on TV…
Ace: Right? Celebrities are chatting him up left and right… You can really feel just how much of a super celeb Vil-senpai really is.
Ace: Maybe we can slip into the convo at the right time! Think we could get an autograph!?
Grim: Oh hey, they're passin' out drinks over there! I'm gonna go get… Myah!?
[Vil grabs Grim]
Grim: Hey, don't grab me by the scruff!
Vil: Silence! Just because we made it safely inside the Queen's Palace does not mean you can do as you please.
Vil: You are to stay calm and refined, and carry yourself beautifully during the film festival as well. Or do you intend on humiliating me?
Azul: Quite right. The energy of these first years can be quite troublesome.
Vil: If you think so, I would rather you watch those little spudlings instead of passing out your business cards.
Vil: Especially while you tell them you're my schoolmate… Really, I give you an inch and you take a mile.
Jamil: I've confirmed our seating arrangements for the screening. The theater is just past here.
Vil: Wonderful. We should make our way there before the aisles get too crowded.
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Grim: Movie's finally over. That was super long… Hey, why's everyone standin' up all a sudden?
[APPLAUSE]
Azul: Well, well… What a magnificent standing ovation.
Vil: The Fairest Queen's spirit of tenacity was fully explored throughout the whole Beautiful Queen movie.
Vil: She was never complacent with the status quo, and spent her entire life attempting to improve herself further…
Vil: It's only natural to be deeply moved by how she pursued her life goals, especially as a performer, myself.
Jamil: I agree. It was a fantastic film. We should join the rest of the audience in applause.
[APPLAUSE]
Vil: Ah… The entire venue has nothing but praise for this film. A spectacular sight to behold. I'm sure Dad is just as elated right now.
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Ace: The live-action Beautiful Queen movie rocked. Based on that showing, it'll definitely be a huge hit!
Azul: Well, the film fest has concluded… Vil-san, what are our plans afterward?
Vil: Our plans? Well, that would be…
Vil: We head home.
Ace/Grim/Azul: HUH!?
1. That sucks… 2. No way…
Jamil: It'll get dark soon. If we want to make tomorrow's classes, we should probably head back to campus soon.
Vil: That's right. The main role of a student is to learn. That's why even I have put my career on hold.
Vil: When I received my admissions letter from Night Raven College, I have to admit I did hesitate.
Vil: Was there even any reason to place my acting career on hold just to attend a school…? Or so I thought.
Vil: However, I'm sure that the knowledge, studying and experience that comes from school life will undoubtedly be a boon.
Vil: Once I decided that, I chose to reduce my work commitments and instead devote myself to my studies.
Vil: By spending my days simply being Vil Schoenheit and a member of the Pomefiore Dormitory...
Vil: My understanding of the Fairest Queen's spirit of tenacity deepened, which in turn led to this successful promotion.
Vil: My daily life as a student has absolutely been a boon for my career, just as I expected it would be back before I enrolled… No, I suppose it would be correct to say even more than I had expected.
Vil: This little venture has proved to me that my decision had been the correct one.
Vil: And thus, I am also determined to spend the rest of the time I have left as a student to my fullest, with no regrets.
Ace: Vil-senpai…
Ace: Okay, you can say all that, but you do realize that this is probably the only time the rest of us get the chance to go to a film festival, right!?
Azul: Ace-san is completely correct. It would be an absolute pity to squander this opportunity to network with all these celebrities!
Vil: Oh, is that so. Then do as you please. That is, if you are willing to violate your contract.
Ace: Violate what contract? We played your lackeys already.
Azul: Actually… The conditions set by Vil-san were to "walk the red carpet"…
Azul: If he intends on walking the same path we took to get here, we must escort him during his return, as well…!
Vil: Correct. I see you fully understand the terms of your agreement.
Ace: Ehhhh~!? I thought we were only here for the grand entrance…
Vil: So I'll ask you one more time. I will be returning to campus, what will you do?
Ace/Azul: Return alongside you…
Jamil: Considering the role we were undertaking today, it's only natural.
Vil: Excellent. Then we should make haste to leave the venue.
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[Fairest City – Queen's Palace]
[snap! snap snap snap!!]
Grim: Myah, the flashes are way too bright!!
Azul: I had anticipated the crowd would be more settled than when we had entered the venue...
Ace: Doesn't feel like they've petered out at all… And we even tried slipping out mid-fest.
Announcer: Vil Schoenheit-san! Please elaborate on your promotion work for this event!
Newspaper Reporter: WE WOULD BE HONORED TO HEAR YOUR COMMENTS ON THE LIVE-ACTION BEAUTIFUL QUEEN MOVIE!
Cameraman: Vil-SAN!! LOOK THIS WAY!!
Jamil: The press are coming at us in full force…! Ace, Azul, hold them back!!
Ace/Azul: RIGHT!!
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Vil: Now, now, how frantic everyone is. There's no need to worry, I won't run from you.
Vil: I will gladly answer your questions, at least until I finish walking the tapis rouge.
Newspaper Reporter: Whew, that draped train flutters so beautifully… …Ack! I shouldn't be standing around enraptured.
Newspaper Reporter: Ahem. Then, I'll start. How did it come to be that you would do this promotion?
Vil: Eric Venue personally requested me. Must mean no one was better suited for the promotion than I.
Magazine Reporter: Your whole outfit coordination today is so stunning! Can you tell us some highlights about this look?
Vil: I call this "Black of Night" ―
Vil: It came about by utilizing the iconic Luxe brand color that originates in the Fairest Queen legends.
Vil: Instead of accessorizing with magnificent jewelry, I simply used myself as the adornment…
Vil: Which allowed my beauty to be accentuated even further.
Announcer: SPECTACULAR! YOU ARE TRULY BEAUTIFUL!!
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Announcer: Speaking of which… Your companions here all look fabulous as well. Are you all models as well?
Ace: Ooh, is that how we look? I mean, we all look pretty rad, can't fault you for thinking so~
Azul: I'm grateful that you thought to cast your eyes on me as well. Thank you so much for you kind words.
Jamil: Guess it's not too terrible to be thought of as one of Vil-senpai's colleagues.
Grim: Myahaha! This guy knows what they're talkin' about!
1. Wow, I can't believe we were mistaken for models!
Vil: Calm down… Don't get all riled up. Obviously, it's because of the Luxe attire you're wearing.
2. I feel like I've never been noticed like this before…
Vil: Heh, you seem pretty composed. At least you can tell it's obviously because of the Luxe attire you're wearing.
Vil: Although, I suppose if you are basking in my glow, it wouldn't be surprising for others to notice you lot as well.
Vil: These fellows aren't models, but are merely my dutiful manservants. And they obey every order I give them.
Vil: Isn't that right?
Grim/Ace/Jamil/Azul: Yes, sir... Vil Schoenheit-sama.
Vil: …It seems the tapis rouge has come to an end. I'm sorry, but this is the end of the interview.
Vil: I do hope you all have a wonderful evening.
Announcer: Vil-san, please wait a moment!!
Newspaper Reporter: I still have another question for you…!
Vil: Here we go, boys. Get to work and secure a path!
Grim/Ace/Jamil/Azul: YESSIR!!
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[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]
Ace: Wheeew, we finally escaped. The press was pretty intense, but that was an ambush of fans!
Azul: Gasp, whew… Truly an ordeal…
Azul: With how Vil-san made such a grand appearance in front of the media like this despite recently taking a break from his acting work...
Azul: I can fully understand why anyone would want to take as many photos as possible in that scenario…
Vil: It's been sometime since I've had such an ardent reception. It's not something that I get to deal with while on Sage's Island.
Jamil: Good thing we were able to give them all the slip. It was a great plan to confirm possible back roads to escape to last night.
Ace: Is that what you were all doing!? I just thought you guys all snuck out of the hotel to have a bit of fun…
Vil: I don't think Azul or Jamil would let a single thing slip by them. You both have earned my praise just this once.
Vil: There were a few close calls, but… I would say you all just barely succeeded in the job I entrusted you with.
Azul: Your kind words fill me with joy. And once again… Thank you for allowing us to accompany you.
Vil: Of course. This was a fairly wonderful two days, was it not? Not only we were able to relax here in the Fairest City…
Vil: But we were also able to watch an early showing of the live-action Beautiful Queen.
Azul: Yes, indeed. The movie was utterly beautiful from start to finish… I could even feel the dedication in the tableware and cutlery chosen for the film.
Jamil: I understand the tenacious spirit of the Fairest Queen even better now. I feel like I need to put forth even more effort in my own life now.
Vil: Excellent thoughts.
Vil: Next. How about we hear the thoughts from the youngest spudlings here, who seem to be trying to avoid eye contact, hm?
Ace: It was super real-looking, and super fab, and the Fairest Queen was suuuper pretty… Basically, it was just super awesome all around!
1. I agree! 2. It was impressive!
Vil: Sigh, how appalling. How could you watch that masterpiece and only have such boring impressions?
Vil: It seems you still don't have a full understanding on the spirit of tenacity.
Vil: Once the movie is available to the public, you are to go watch it in theaters. Understand? My orders are absolute.
Vil: …And if the mood strikes, perhaps I'll join you.
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Requested by @amourteddyst and @ordinaryanon.
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milswrites · 2 days
Text
Amber Haze
~Azriel X Fem!Reader
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Summary: Having caught Azriel’s eye at a Night Court masquerade, you allow yourself to get lost in an evening of bliss with the shadowsinger. Yet sometimes the person hiding behind the mask isn’t always as they seem.
Warnings: Smut 18+ (mdni), oral (m receiving), p in v
You were being hunted.
Those whiskey eyes impossible to ignore as they followed you across the room. It didn’t matter where you turned; the burning stare of the shadowsinger always seemed to move with you. The traces of a sly smile beginning to form on the male’s lips as he witnessed your wasted efforts in attempting to escape his persistent gaze.
You were trapped. Unable to do anything but watch as Azriel stalked towards you, wings flared and eyes hungry as he made his approach.
“You’ve been watching me” you remark as he came to a stop before you. Lifting your drink to your lips in hope that the effects of the alcohol would quell the heated blush rising in your cheeks at the male’s undivided attention. The low rumble of the shadowsinger’s voice as he replied was enough to send shivers of anticipation down your spine, “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you here before.”
“Maybe you just weren’t looking hard enough” you retorted, lips curling into a teasing smile which Azriel instantly matched with his own, his hazel eyes darkening at your playful nature.
“Even when hidden behind a mask, a pretty face like yours is difficult to miss” he charmed, slowly taking another step towards you in order to further close the distance in between. “My name’s Azriel” he greeted with a polite dip of his head, “And you? -”
“Already know who you are” you interrupt with a nonchalant shrug, “It would take a lot more than a mask to hide those lovely wings of yours.”
The muscles in Azriel’s wings unconsciously twitched at your mention of them as the trace of a soft laugh fell from his lips. “And yet,” the shadowsinger started, searching eyes analyzing whatever features of yours weren’t hidden behind the cover of your golden mask, forged in the shape of an animal he couldn't quite distinguish, “I don’t know you . . . Care to inform me on who it is I have the pleasure of speaking with?”
“And take all the fun out of it?” you smiled wickedly, enjoying the way in which your answer made the male’s smirk falter with surprise. “You’re the spymaster aren’t you?” you continued, leaning towards Azriel until your lips were but an inch away from his own, “Why don’t you tell me?”
At the spark of a challenge Azriel’s grin widens, the male tearing his heated gaze away from your lips in order to meet the daring glimmer which had started to pool in your eyes. You watched him inhale deeply before he cockily replied, “Well isn’t it a good thing we have all night ahead of us.”
“Now that is a bold assumption” you answer breathlessly, doing your best to ignore the thundering beat of your heart in your chest, “I bet you say that to all the females you stare at.”
“Only the ones who bite back” Azriel promised, outstretching a scarred hand for you to take, “But there’s only one I wish to dance with.”
Your thoughtful gaze moves to carefully sweep your surroundings, eyes scanning the guests for a familiar face you failed to find before they moved to settle back onto Azriel, “I suppose I could spare you one.”
The shadowsinger led you to the floor, meeting your curtsey with a bow before sweeping you into a gracious dance. And as much as you hated to admit it; the male moved just as enticingly as he spoke. Each sweeping step of his feet allowing Azriel to confidently guide you across the room, the continuous stare from his lustful eyes enough to make you feel as though you were the only two people present.
“How about a little game?” Azriel asks against you ear with a heated breath as he masterfully twirls you, “For my own indulgence of course.”
“Aren’t you a little old to be playing games?” you tease, earning an exasperated eyeroll from the shadowsinger as he pulls you back into his tight embrace. “Consider it me -” Azriel started, his daring hand on the small of your back moving lower than what would be deemed appropriate, “- getting to know you better.”
You weren’t sure was it was; the intoxicating scent of Night-Chilled mist and cedar, which overwhelmingly filled your senses. Or the way his ever-darkening hazel eyes devoured you whole. One thing was for certain, you found yourself unable to say no to the male. Your head tentatively nodding along in agreement with his suggestion.
“Who are you here with? Either your name was on an invitation or you’re somebody’s lovely date, unless you snuck your way in of course. And your eyes . . .” Azriel squinted slightly in order to look deeper into your alarmed stare, “They look familiar . . .”
“I’m sorry, is this a game or an interrogation? Or need I remind you that this is a ballroom and not a prison cell shadowsinger?” you chide, “And besides, why give you all the answers when I could make you work for them?”
If Azriel was frustrated by your deflection, he didn’t show it. Rather, the male dipped you lowly, his handsome face moving to hover above you as the ghost of his lips brushed against your own, “Game on princess.”
And so the dance continued.
“You don’t hail from the Night Court” Azriel concluded, face flooding with determination as he sought to find out more about who you were, “I would have seen you before. And your dress . . . it’s definitely not traditional to this court. Can I ask which court you come from?”
“A seasonal one” you answer with a smile, taking pleasure in the way the male groaned at the vagueness of your response.
“A seasonal one” Azriel slowly repeated with a scoff, “Care to elaborate further?”
“Nope” you answer simply, popping your ‘p’. Doing your best to hold back the giggle which threatened to escape your lips upon seeing the male’s defeated expression.
Azriel takes a moment to ponder what he’s going to ask next, allowing the soothing harmony of the music to fill the silence until he resumed his questioning. His hands moving to grip yours tightly as the words finally came to him, “You keep looking around, almost like you’re waiting for someone. Am I about to have a pissed off Lord trying to fight me for stealing his date?”
“And if I were here with someone? What would you say then?” you asked, unsure what it was exactly that you were hoping to hear in response.
Azriel stiffened as his jaw clenched with an unidentifiable emotion, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he spoke, “Then I would say how unfortunate it is, that a male could bring a female as beautiful as you to a ball like this, and not show you the proper attention you deserve.”
“And if I said I was here alone?” you pressed, begging eyes boring into the shadowsinger’s own dark stare.
“If you were alone,” the shadowsinger uttered lowly, hand slipping down to rest on the curve of your ass, "then I would be all too willing to show you the care that you so desperately require."
"Then what are you waiting for?" you queried, casting your sultry eyes back to Azriel's parted lips, "Show me."
Azriel needn’t wait for further instruction, your words an open invitation for his eager shadows to envelop the pair of you in darkness. The smoky tendrils consuming you, whisking you away from the hall before dissipating once they had carried you to the welcome solitude of their master's room.
Still locked in Azriel's unyielding embrace, the scent of your joint arousal now hung heavily in the air. His ever-tightening grip of your waist evidence enough that he smelt it too.
Your heated breaths mixed together as you urged the male to act, "Are you going to kiss me, Azriel? Or are we going to play more of your silly little games?"
The shadowsinger dipped his head, moving to trail open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin of your neck. Only answering your question once his hunger was satisfied by the gasp of pleasure which had slipped from your lips, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you had somewhere to be princess. I hope you know that I'm planning on taking my time with you, I want to hear every little sound you have to offer."
To further prove his point, Azriel continued his slow exploration of your neck, each teasing lick and tantalizing nibble working to steadily increase your desire.
Seeking relief from your growing frustration, you attempted to roll your hips against the male's growing arousal. Only to be stopped by the strong grip of Azriel’s hands holding your hips in place, a cruel smirk upon his lips as he tutted, "So impatient."
You failed to recognize your own voice as a growl worked its way up to your throat, teeth bared at the male in vexation, "I thought I was about to find out if the rumors about how the shadowsinger fucks are true. I didn't realize he only knew how to tease."
Azriel's eyes turned black, his glare so intense it was enough to make your knees tremble weakly, snarling he answered, "You talk too much." And then his lips finally crashed onto your own.
There was nothing soft about the kiss, teeth clashing and tongues entwining as the two of you messily fought for dominance. Your toes curling at the delectable way in which Azriel's tongue explored your mouth once you had given up the fight.
It was a kiss of passion, Azriel's groans of satisfaction alongside your moans of glee doing nothing to sate your rising need. The delicious way in which his lips slotted perfectly against your own only left you wanting more and more.
Azriel didn't stop you this time when you rocked your hips against his own. Nor did he protest when your hands hurriedly moved to undo the laces on his pants, sliding to your knees as you pulled the clothing down.
He was big, probably the biggest you've ever seen. Finding yourself unable to stop the gasp which slipped from your lips upon observing the length of his glistening cock, the head already leaking with his desire.
Afraid that if you were to sit there and admire his cock much longer Azriel would bless you with another one of his sarcastic comments, you leaned forward to take it into your mouth. But not before Azriel reluctantly interrupted, "Your mask . . . Aren't you going to remove it?"
You stared at the male as you took his cock into your hand, Azriel already closing his eyes with pleasure at the sensation of your delicate touch, "Why, you don't like the mystery?" you teased, sticking your tongue out to lick along the length of his shaft, "I could be anyone you wanted under here. And besides, you don't need to see my face in order for me to make you cum."
With that you finally took his cock into your mouth. Staring up at the male as you bobbed your head up and down, your hand working to please any part of him that wouldn't fit inside your mouth. Azriel's own eager hands came to grasp onto your hair, helping to guide more of his length into your mouth, cursing at the feeling of you moaning around his pulsating cock.
Searching for your own relief, you rubbed your thighs together, longing to receive some satisfaction as Azriel fucked your mouth. Desperate to know what his cock would feel like deep within the warmth of your cunt.
Each thrust of Azriel's hips against your face was met with groans of pleasure pouring from his lips. Head thrown back as garbled words which stirred your arousal tumbled from his mouth, "Fuck, just like that. Keep going princess. You're doing so well."
Between the ruthless pace of his cock entering your mouth and the vibrations of your cries against him, it didn't take Azriel long to come to completion. Barking out a strangled shout, Azriel spilled his cum down your throat, the male whimpering as he watched you swallow his load with a knowing smile. And upon pulling out of your mouth, a glistening string of your saliva still connected his cock to your swollen lips.
Azriel breathed a sigh of ecstasy, working to ease his panting before he helped to pull you back to your feet, orders already leaving his mouth as he did so, "your dress, take it off."
You did as he asked, eyes never failing to stray from his burning gaze as you unlaced your corset and allowed the heavy material of your dress to drop to the floor, exposing yourself to the male.
His heated stare trailed over your body, cock already hardening once more as he took in your naked form. Lifting a hand to pinch your pebbled nipple he uttered against your ear, "what a beautiful little thing."
Insatiable, your lips met his once more.
Bodies a tangle of limbs as Azriel's heated hands trailed every inch of your body he could reach. His fingers coming to brush against your soaking folds, "Is this all for me?" he teased, lifting his fingers to his mouth in order to taste your arousal, "such a sweet taste for such a wicked little girl."
No longer happy to sit with your burning desire, you stared Azriel down, want dripping from your voice as you spoke, "Are you going to keep talking or are you going to shut up and fuck me shadowsinger?”
That was all Azriel needed to throw you onto his bed, silken sheets cold against your bare back as Azriel lined himself up with your heat, cock teasingly rubbing against your aching folds. "Is this what you want?" Azriel groaned, face contorting with pleasure as you bucked against him, "to be fucked dumb by my cock."
Unable to do anything but whine with agreement, Azriel finally entered you, filling you to the brim with one swift movement. Moans of pleasure tearing from both your lips as Azriel moved, his pace brutal as he worked to bring you to completion.
Your senses were overwhelmed. Each guttural groan from his mouth and every burning peck of his lips against your heated skin had you crying out in bliss. Vision fading into stars as the shadowsinger's relentless pounding inched you closer and closer to your high.
"Harder" you beg, feeling his cock twitch inside of you at your words, "Please Azriel, please."
Azriel growled at your request, increasing his pace until he was thrusting into you mercilessly, your sharp nails clawing at his back as you screamed in contentment. With each salacious drag of his cock you allowed yourself to travel further and further within your mind, free to explore the wonders of your satisfaction if only for an evening.
It was as though your body was made for him, each movement of his met by an equally pleasurable one of your own. Azriel delivering every brain-fogging ounce of satisfaction into your system with his thrusts. Heavy breaths escaping his lips as he teetered you over the edge of your high, "That's it princess, cum for me. Show me how good I make you feel."
You welcomed the wave of pleasure as it washed over you, screams leaving your mouth as your high had you seeing white. Azriel continued with his animalistic pounding as he sought his own completion once more, grunting at the sound of his name leaving your lips like a prayer.
It wasn't long after your wave had ebbed that Azriel followed suit, his unforgiving pace beginning to falter into languid thrusts as his high crashed over him, body slumping over yours as he came with a shout.
A contented smile crossing his face as he moved off of you to lay down, basking in the warmth of his own pleasure. A smile which was soon washed away by the sight of you standing to gather your clothes. "You can't think I'm done with you yet princess?" he asked in disbelief, brows knitting together as he watched you expertly lace your own corset, "We've got all night ahead of us yet."
"As truly delectable as that sounds shadowsinger, I have someone waiting for me. And you know more than anyone that my brother doesn't like to be kept waiting" you answer with a smirk, enjoying the confusion which flooded his expression at your words, "This was fun, truly, let's do it again sometime!"
With that you exited the room, attempting to rake through your knotted hair with your fingers to minimize your disheveled appearance.
You happily hummed as you wandered through the corridors not quite ready to head back to the party just yet. Cheeks still rosy from your heated encounter with the shadowsinger, you allowed yourself to ponder exactly what it was about him that had you completely and utterly at his mercy.
A dry voice then cut through the silence of the night and interrupted your thoughts. "Up to no good sister?” Eris asked upon his approach, “You know when you asked to come along tonight I expected you to be hovering over the drinks table, not ravishing the shadowsinger until this ungodly hour."
"Now now Eris" you chided, "Shouldn't you know better than to ask your sister about her sex life? You may end up hearing more than you bargained for."
Your brother offered you one of his famous eyes rolls, snorting in amusement as he offered you his arm, "Come on, we best be leaving before father notices you're gone. And not a word of this to anyone, especially not Lucien, it would be dreadfully horrific if he thought I was becoming soft."
You giggled as you held on to your brother's arm, obliging his request even though you didn't feel like returning to your gilded cage quite yet. And despite the fact this was only meant to be an evening of fun, you found your curious eyes wondering back to the direction in which you had came, wondering if you would ever see those whiskey coloured eyes again.
Azriel hadn't moved from his bed. His shock having rendered him useless as he allowed all the signs he had missed throughout the evening cross his mind. The fact you came from a seasonal court. Your mask which upon further reflection took the shape of a fox. Those amber eyes.
He cursed himself for allowing his cock to work over his brain, even the famed shadowsinger couldn't detect a Vanserra sibling when they were right under his nose.
Azriel had been a fool, he had allowed himself to be distracted by a beautiful woman.
Yet, despite his frustration of not having figured this information out for himself, Azriel couldn't clear his mind of your soft skin or temptuous curves. The memory of your body having been deliciously burned into his brain to the point where your wicked smile and sultry eyes would no doubt be following him into his dreams.
So as Azriel lay in his post high contentment, he allowed himself to laugh over the fact he had been outmaneuvered by a sly little fox such as yourself. Silently hoping that he would have the pleasure of basking in your amber haze again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: I’ve decided I don’t like this fic but here you go I guess.
225 notes · View notes
Text
No Regrets Noah Sebastian x Reader
Prompt: "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."
VIP: Noah Sebastian
Band: Ban Omens
Summary: There's no such thing as a "calm" Halloween night, especially when hidden feelings are involved.
Warnings: It's gonna be a little spicy, but not full-on smut. Still, this is 18+ due to descriptive language and some curse words scattered about, so minors, please DNI. 
A/N
Hello everybody! I'm sorry that I dropped off the face of the Earth. I have an abundance of things going on in my personal life and I am trying my hardest to get through it all. I know in the last post I said chapter 3 of It's Been A Long, Long Time was coming soon. That wasn't a lie. It is still in the process of being edited. I'm working on a new uploading schedule for you guys, and a page redesign as well so if everything pans out the way I'm hoping, it will be put into effect starting next week. In the meantime, I have a couple of stories I'm planning on getting out before Chapter 3 gets released. This turned out a lot longer than I thought it was going to be, but I had an idea and ran with it. I've never written for Bad Omens before, so let me know what you think. Enjoy!
This is a fictional story about real-life people. Nothing that is mentioned in the story below represents who said individuals are, or how they act in real life.
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Halloween night was always your favorite time to be around certain people, specifically the friends you called Motionless in White and Bad Omens. There was always something up their sleeve to turn the normal night into one that you weren't sure you wanted to remember in the morning. Luckily, tonight was the annual hangout at Chris' house this year, and you couldn't be more excited. Every year you all would get together at someone's house and pass out candy to the kids, then watch a couple of movies after the last stragglers came through. After that, came your favorite part of the night, Hide and Seek. It might seem childish, but watching a bunch of tipsy/drunk people try to stay quiet in a hiding spot was always hilarious.
 You were making another batch of popcorn when Chris walked into the kitchen. "Hey, we just put on The Lost Boys, just thought I'd let you know." You smile. "I'm not surprised. That's almost everybody's favorite." He laughs and grabs another bowl from the cabinet. "I know, that's why we put it on first, so nobody can complain about it later." The timer on the microwave went off signaling that the popcorn was finished, and you carefully took the bag out. You gave Chris the cooling-down bag and picked back up the one you set on the counter before he walked in. After emptying them and grabbing extra napkins, Chris brought the popcorn out to your friends who were talking through muffled and hushed whispers. Before you walked back into the room, he pulled you back for a second to whisper something in your ear. "I pulled the seeker for tonight. Unfortunately, it wasn't you. Maybe next year." You pout and then smile "Fuck, I'm never going to get picked." He laughs as you glanced around at everybody scattered in the room. 
Ryan sat with Justin on the loveseat. Folio was a drama queen and insisted he get his own seat. Nicholas, Vinny, and a few other of your friends, Florence, Nicole, Victoria, and Robert who were invited sat around the coffee table on the floor. Ricky, Jolly, and Noah were on the couch. Then, you and Chris got the two giant bean bags in the corner. The lights were changed to red and the TV just started the opening credits to The Lost Boys. You and Chris give the popcorn to Ricky and Nicholas respectively, everybody else having their own mostly full bowls, and grab your drinks before plopping back down on the bean bags. Folio rubs his hands together and smiles. "Now that our final two goofballs are here, who's ready to watch one of the best horror movies ever made?" Everybody gives some form of yes or a holler, and he immediately turns the volume up. As the movie plays, there is a small conversation here and there, and occasionally someone has to get up for a new drink, but you are relaxed and having fun. 
At about the halfway point of the movie, Noah gets up to get another drink from the fridge. On his way back, Jolly scares him, causing his wine to spill all over the floor and your sweatpants. "Jesus man!" The movie is paused and everyone's attention is on you guys. Jolly laughs and puts his hands up in defense. "Sorry dude, I had to scare you at least once today." He turns to look at you. "Didn't mean to ruin your sweatpants though, my bad." You wave him off. "It's no big deal, these were old anyway. You guys can keep the movie playing. I'm just gonna change into different pants real quick." You take a sip of your drink and get up from your spot to go upstairs. 
After finding your weekend bag, you huff as the extra sweatpants are nowhere to be found. Instead, you pull out a pair of spandex volleyball shorts and go to the bathroom. Noah hears the sink running upstairs as he's cleaning up the accidental mess he made by your spot. He throws the paper towels away and before he gets to the stairs, Chris quietly asks "You good?" He nods, telling the other singer he's going to make sure you're okay, and heads to your bathroom. He knocks a few times and after a couple of seconds, the sink cuts off and you open the door. You were expecting one of your girlfriends to be standing there, but instead, it's Noah. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I'm sorry about spilling on your sweats. I hope I didn't ruin them." Holding up the pants, you show him where the stain had previously been. "If these sweats can make it through one of your tours, they can certainly handle a little bit of wine. I just didn't want them to stain, since you drink the darker stuff." He chuckles and follows you back into the bedroom. 
You grab your shorts and get ready to put them on, but Noah points to your leg. "I didn't know you had a thigh tattoo." You glance at it and glance at him confused. "Really? I got it a while ago. I could've sworn I showed you when I got it done. Then again, I'm always in longer shorts, so it's not exactly easy to see." Setting them down, you turn to the side and pull part of your underwear band up, showing the last covered part of the tattoo. Looking up at Noah, you can see he's staring, but there's something else behind his eyes. Just not sure what it is though. You don't flinch when he reaches his hand out, but your skin gets goosebumps as his fingers ever so lightly trace over the ink on your leg. Everybody that came over tonight had seen each other in their undergarments or even completely nude before, whether by accident or on purpose. Hell, you've walked in on him changing plenty of times. 
So why did the room suddenly feel hot? 
It could be that you've had a crush on the man since you were kids. There wasn't anything not to like. His personality just made you want to be around him all the time. He's sweet and kind, and has a terrible sense of humor that only you two get. You could go on and on. He was just an all-around amazing person. You were so caught up in your thoughts, that you missed the hand that was snapping in front of your face. "Hello? Are you there?" Coming back to reality, you saw Noah looking down at you with curiosity. You quickly apologized and asked him to repeat what he said. "I said it looks amazing on you. The placement is perfect and it works great with the curves of your leg." You thank him and can't help but notice just how close he's standing to you. There's a tense silence for a couple of moments, and neither of you moves from your spot. You glanced at his eyes, then his lips, but immediately looked away. 
It felt like you were a school girl again, talking to the guy you've had a crush on for ages. You heard him mumble a "Fuck it" before he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. They were soft and tasted like wine, courtesy of the drink that led you here in the first place. You felt his hand move to rest against your cheek. His lips were gentle, almost as if he was savoring the moment, afraid it would never happen again. When the two of you finally pulled away for air, your eyes remained closed for a moment, before slowly opening them and meeting Noah's. The two of you looked at each other in pure awe before you let out a small "Woah" He laughed, and you looked down, feeling your cheeks become hot.
The thought of you being so flustered made him blush too. How was it possible for someone to be this cute? Your heart was pounding out of your chest, and you almost couldn't comprehend what just happened. "You know, for someone that always complained he was a terrible kisser, that was uh, really impressive." He could feel you now completely relaxed against him and he laughed a little, slightly embarrassed. "I'd say that I've had practice, but you already know my teddy bear in fifth grade doesn't count." The two of you laugh. Remembering his hand resting on your cheek, you look away and take a small step back. "I think we should get back to the movie. It's gotta be almost over by now, and I don't want them to yell at us for taking too long." He let out an uncomfortable laugh and muttered a "Yeah." 
You never noticed but Noah frowned slightly when you pulled away from him. He felt so comfortable being that close to you. As you turned to the door he realized something. He really liked you and didn't want this to be just a one-time thing, especially if it was going to make things weird between you afterward. He picks himself out of his thoughts just as you open the door. He walks across the room, taking your hand and silently closing the door. Standing there surprised, you ask him, "Are you okay?" It was now or never he told himself. "I'm sorry, I just..." He takes a breath before continuing. "I really want to kiss you again." You stand there just as surprised but decide to see just how far this could possibly go. "What's the problem then?" He lets go of your hand and brings his own up to hold your face. Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers. 
"The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop." 
He obviously likes you, right? But this is your best friend. You've known each other for years. If he did like you this much, he would've told you by now, right? You two have been affectionate towards each other before, but there's a line neither of you dared to cross. If you crossed it now, you would rather do it with no regrets. It was better than wondering what could have been. "What if I don't want you to stop?" Noah tilts your head so you're looking him in the eyes. 
"Then I won't." 
He pushes his lips against you again, this time with newfound hunger. His hands fall and grab at your waist while yours go around his neck. Your feet follow his backward and you hit the edge of the bed. He pulls you down to sit on his lap, completely forgetting your lack of pants while he pushes himself further back on the bed. His tongue runs across your bottom lip and you open your mouth allowing him in. Your hands gently tug at the now-cut-short hair on the back of his neck and he grabs at your hip hard enough to leave bruises before pulling you even closer to him. Shifting your weight a little, your lower half sits directly on his hardening cock and he groans into your mouth. He pulls his lips away only for them to move down your neck. You tug at his hair a little harder and he sucks at the tender skin that connects your neck and shoulder. A moan leaves your lips and you mindlessly grind down against him. There was nothing that could prepare you for how right this felt. Like you were seeing a whole different side of him, hidden from the outside world, and for your eyes only.
Noah moved to whisper in your ear. "Quiet baby, wouldn't want everybody to hear us, hmm?" You shake your head no, but it doesn't matter as he kisses you again. "Hey, are you guys-OH MY GOD!" The bedroom door opens to see a shocked Chris looking at the two of you. Noah pulls away from your mouth, and the two of you look like deer in headlights. "I'm going to go... quickly." Chris walks away, before coming back and closing the door. You and Noah make eye contact for a split second, before the two of you look away, slightly embarrassed that you were caught. "Maybe we should go back before someone comes in again." He clears his throat and nods. "Yeah, that's a good idea." Carefully getting off of him, you stand up and let him off the bed. You both straighten out your respective clothes, and you finally put on those shorts. 
"Are you alright?" He nods and you get ready to walk toward the door. Noah runs his fingers through his hair. "Um, Before we go, I just wanted to ask...You don't regret any of what just happened, right?" You immediately shake your head no, slightly frowning. Maybe this was all a big mistake. "Not at all. Why? Do you?" He smiles and also shakes his head no before taking your hand in his. "Nope. No regrets." A smile replaces the frown on your face. You ask "Are you ready for them to never let us live this down?" He laughs and glances at the door. "That doesn't sound like such a bad thing to me." Giving him a nod, he opens the door and the two of you walk back into the living room where the rest of your friend group is talking amongst themselves. When they hear you guys walk in, it gets silent. Noah lets go of your hand so you can sit down first, and then goes to his spot on the couch. 
Nobody said anything for the first couple of moments before Chris broke the silence. "You guys fucked in my spare bedroom..." Instantly you and Noah sat up and shook your heads. Your voice and his overlapped and both of you tried to tell your friends that technically nothing happened. Once the two of you were finished explaining, the room was silent for another couple of moments before anyone spoke. The silence was starting to make you uncomfortable, but before you could say or do anything, Ryan threw his hands up and yelled. "Fucking finally!" This breaks the tension in the room and everybody starts laughing and giving you and Noah happy looks. You even saw a couple of people passing money around. Those fuckers bet on you and Noah getting together. When the commotion has died down, another movie has started, and everybody turns their attention to the TV. As you focus your attention on the screen, your phone buzzes, and you pick it up. 
Noah
"I was thinking later we could finish what we started in the spare bedroom?"
You smile at your phone and quickly respond before setting it down.
"Well, we're still playing Hide and Seek after the movie. I'm once again not the seeker, lol. If it happens to be you, don't go easy on me. Depending on how the rest of the night plays out, you might get your wish ;)"
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Noah readjust himself in his seat. He sends back a text almost instantly, and goosebumps litter your skin again as you read his last text.
Noah
"Oh, I won't. I like the hunt."
Nope, no regrets.
152 notes · View notes
ktaerssoi · 3 days
Text
same team, different goal
(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)
summary: the three weeks leading up to the draft, or the three times you realize caitlin isnt all that bad.
(2k)
week one
march was coming to an end, and Iowa had made it to the elite eight. tomorrow you would play against LSU, and you were a little nervous. your nerves didn't ease up when you were practicing the night before on an empty court.
it was almost ten, but you hadn't eaten or even thought about anything but the game tomorrow until you heard someone enter the gym, and then you weren't alone.
looking up from the ground, you shot the basketball towards the net, your arm stretching out and your feet coming off of the floor for a moment, but to no avail, it hit the backboard and bounced back to you.
"you should ease up your arm, you're too tense to be playing to your full ability." you turn to see caitlin standing by the court's edge, a calculated look on her face. "clark, I really don't need your help, I just need to practice. you're not exactly helping with that by the way."
she put her hands up in defense, "Actually that was exactly what I was doing. Plus, this isn't your gym, I can come in and practice too if I want." and that's what she did. every time she threw the ball you heard a faint swish and turned to see her lazily going to retrieve the basketball. she's some freak of nature really.
"wanna run some defense real quick?" she throws the ball to you, which you catch with an annoyed look. "sure," the tone of your voice would be enough to turn anyone away normally, but caitlin was one to never quit.
you guys had been trying to block the other on and off for about an hour, caitlin having more success than not. "seriously caitlin, I don't get how you just walk in here and play so easy." you guys were over by the benches, getting some water and checking your phones.
she looks up at you, shrugging. "no I mean seriously, if I told you to stand anywhere on the court you could make it. you practice infinite hours and yet your grades almost never falter." you hadn't really realized that you were going on a rant, but you were nothing but amazed by her talent. well maybe a little jealous too.
"wow l/n, I didn't know you were that big of a fan, do you want me to sign a shirt or something?" you would usually be annoyed by a snarky statement like this, but something about the exhaustion of practicing and the smile on her face made you smile a little too.
-
you woke up the next morning feeling less nervous about the game. practicing with caitlin was helpful, even if you swear for the rest of your life that it wasn't. She had told you about herself, in between breaks you guys would talk about what it was like playing basketball growing up.
she was easy to talk to.
you had been warming up for a little, talking to kate and trying to relax, like caitlin said. by half, both teams were tied at 45, and you were trying not to stress. you knew that you had a good team, and you knew that even if we were to fail it wouldn't be the end of the world.
you had a short water break at half, and caitlin came up to you, leaning down and whispering in your ear. "hey just relax, we got this, just get out of your head." you nodded, looking up and her. kate had given you guys an odd look, along with the rest of the team.
once the third quarter started, you were trying to guard angel resse. she was a difficult player to block, but you had managed to stop a few points and by the end of the third quarter Iowa was up by 11.
you could tell caitlin wasn't happy that we were so close to the end of the game and we barely had a lead. "c, just play like you did last night, don't think just play. you're not the best at thinking anyway." she rolled her eyes at your comment but smiled nonetheless.
"That's not what you said last night," she said as the whistle for the fourth quarter blew. your cheeks had turned a light shade of pink, one that you hoped you could play off as a tough game. you hadn't been put in for the fourth quarter coach opting to put someone else in and give you a break.
"since when have you and caitlin been friends?" you turn to see jada, confusion written on her face. "um, we've always been friends, just, not like good friends." you say, taking a sip of your water. "not "good friends?" you guys fight like there's no tomorrow. something happened and I and kate will find out." you shake your head, a smile on your face as you picture her and kate in old-timey investigater outfits.
"you have fun with that."
the game ends quickly after that, Iowa winning by 7 points. you smiled as you saw the team celebrate on the court, still holding good sportsmanship to LSU (for the most part..), you walked by the other team, high-fiving and telling resse that she's a tough player to block. you guys chat for a little before you say goodbye and walk into the locker room.
"what were you talking to resse about?" you hear caitlin before you see her, but when you do see her she's in the middle of changing out of her jersey into some random shirt. "nothing really, I was just telling her that she played well." you shrugged, walking over to your bag to get changed as well, trying not to stare at anyone.
"yeah, she played well I guess, we still won though." caitlin grabbed her bag in a huff, seeming to be a tad annoyed. "if I didn't know any better I would say you're mad I talked to her," you mumbled, but caitlin still heard.
"I'm not mad I just don't get why you don't treat our team like that, I mean you didn't congratulate any of us and we were the ones who won." caitlin's voice was raised now, you weren't sure where this was coming from but it ticked you off nonetheless.
"fine, you need some praise? good fucking job caitlin, our very own lord and savior." you rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag, and walking out to the bus to head back to campus. sitting down in the seat next to kate you were silent, not wanting to talk to anyone.
one thing though was that you most definitely hated caitlin clark.
-
you had gotten to Cleveland earlier that day, you had talked to the UConn team, since you used to play for them it was fun to chat with old teammates and meet the new players. you knew that caitlin and paige were friends, they used to play together and were a great duo. That's why you weren't surprised when she came over and started making her presence known, shutting down the conversation you were having with paige.
"yeah and then she had the audacity-" you were cut off by caitlin, smiling as she walked over and hugged paige. "hey bueckers, you better be ready to lose tomorrow." you glared at her not so subtly, sighing. "clark I was kind of in the middle of talking." she looked down at you, rolling her eyes. "yeah because you always have to talk to the opponents?"
paige had turned away at that point, talking to ice because she knew it was bound to be awkward if she continued standing there. "what is your problem? just because I didn't feed your ego one time im a problem? you need to get a grip." her jaw tightened at your words, you hadn't spoken loud, not wanting to draw too much attention to you guys.
"me? I'm not the one with the issues, you just seem to hate me for no reason at all. seriously, ever since you transferred to Iowa I've been trying to be your friend but you've taken everything I've done as an attack on you. me getting you dinner was not meant to send you into an allergic reaction and get you out of a game!" she hadn't taken into consideration that other people were around and she was talking at a voice level far too loud for the small area you were in.
you had dragged her to a corner, deciding it would be the easiest way to defuse the situation. "okay I'm sorry, you're just good at everything, and it's kind of hard to be friends with someone like that. it makes me feel like I have to prove I'm better which usually doesn't go over well. also, it wasn't even about the allergic reaction I just don't know why you got me dinner. I was fine by myself." caitlin rolls her eyes at your words but nods regardless.
-
you guys had won the game against UConn the next day, and you and caitlin finally working well together and not arguing throughout the game. there was a sort of understanding between the two of you guys now.
week two
you guys had ulitamtily lost the game against NC state, it was close and you guys had played hard. caitlin was anything but happy by the end of it, and not even kate or gabbie could fix it.
"clark, like you said, its not the end of the world. there will always be another game." you had said it to not only help her, but yourself. you weren't exactly pleased with the outcome of the game, none of team had been.
for caitlin it was different, she was going to the draft next week and losimg her lat college game wasn't something she could live with. but she would have to.
even though you hadn't really meant to, you had cheered caitlin up. even if it was only a little bit, her mood had improved and she was able to talk to the team with out an undertone of anger. the ride home wasn't the best trip of your life but you guys had managed to make the best of it for everyone sake.
seeing caitlin sit quietly on the bus made you start thinking about what it wold be like on the team with out her next year. with out her it would be so different, not to mention you were losing a bunch of other great players. but with out caitlin who would you compete with? she wasn't just a teammate, she was a friend, whether you guys were fighting or not you would miss her. plus she was nice to look at.
half way through the trip back to campus you guys had stopped to stretch your legs. when you got back on, you sat next to caitlin before she could put her feet up and block the seat.
"hey c," you smiled at her, and though she didn't show it you could tell that she was okay with you being there. you had looked over at what she was doing on her phone and you saw she was looking at her possible outfits for the draft.
"i like that one." you had pointed to your favorite of the options, a sparkly cropped top with a white button down and a skirt. it would look good on her.
she nodded, and quickly sent a text to her stylist that that was the one she wanted to wear. you had just picked out caitlin clarks wnba draft night outfit.
"i don't know what im going to do next year. i mean, the wnba is going to be great but seriously this team is to good to not miss." caitlin was picking at her fingernails, a bad habit of hers. "even though im on it?" you laughed a little, you knew she hadn't always liked you.
"no i think especially because you're on it. you've really been my number one compeition and with you gone i don't know who's going to keep my ego in check." she smiles at you, and you shake your head. "trust me clark, someone is going to get fed up and humble you."
something about the way she smiled the rest of the way home made you feel good. you really were going to miss her.
week three
it was draft night, and you had been invited along with some other team members to attend for caitlin. she and everyone looked so good, and the outfit you had chosen definitely distracted some people. (you included)
the draft was about to start and caitlin had been standing with you, kate, gabbie, and jada for a while before she finally had to leave. your leg was bouncing with anticipation when the commissioner came on stage with the first pick, but instantly cheers erupted from your group and many others in the room.
you were surprised when caitlin didn't instantly get up and head to the commissioner, instead, she hugged her family, stepped down off the stage to hug you first, and then, kate, jada, and gabbie, and then finally went to the commissioner. that's going to be in an edit.
the night went smoothly after that, you were getting texts from her often, and one of the commentators had pointed out that you both both on your phones. when the cameras panned over to her and you, the crowd cheered and you both waved. you felt your phone buzz a few seconds later with a text from caitlin, "they're watching us 😉" the cameras were still on you, so you flipped your phone showing the camera her message.
-
later that night, at the after party you were talking with Nika when caitlin had excused you both and you walked over to some corner. "hey, you know I was tal-" you were cut off by caitlin's lips on yours. it took you a moment but you kissed back.
what the fuck was happening. 
she pulled away after a second and you looked at her stunned, confusion evident on your face. "um, so like why did you do that?"
her face guys pink, and she looks confused as well. "I, um, i don't know why i did that. i just really wanted to kiss you." you nodded at her admittion, yet still confused.
"i think i've liked you since you transferred. i mean, i just like, i think that's why I've always competed with you, i just wanted to show off. It's why i got mad the other day, sorry about that by the way-" she was the one to get cut off this time as you kissed her again.
pulling away after a few seconds you smiled up at her, taking in your high difference for what seemed like the first time. "you're not all too bad either clark." you gave her one more peck and your smile widened even more if possible. "congrats on getting drafted by the way. I'll have to get you to sign a jersey for me."
CHAT I HATE THIS SO MUCH SOME ONE END ME. no like all jokes aside this is actual dookie. but i finally finished this little side blurb thing so yay!! making brownies rn i will update you on them! thats all chat, once again sos. - kate
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shayxthinks · 3 days
Text
cold feet
caitlin clark x black!reader
A/N: this isn't my first time writing, just my first time writing and publishing it publicly like this! hope you guys enjoy it!!! let me know what you think!
-
you stood attempting to block the glare of the sun from your eyes with your bouquet in hand. 
“kate it’s fucking hot. why did we let her choose to have a wedding in hell’s kitchen?” you questioned, leaning toward the blonde who suppressed a laugh.
“stop it. caitlin’s literally getting married. hold the jokes in for 10 more minutes.” she whispered, elbowing you lightly as you rolled your eyes playfully, looking toward your best friend who stood in a white wedding gown with her hair pinned behind her ears. 
she looked stunning 
“do you connor mccaffery take caitlin elizabeth clark to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the priest questioned as you stood just a few feet away, a heavy feeling in your chest suddenly. 
caitlin turned around, glancing at you and kate with a small smile, her face being struck with something as she turned back around. 
“i do. i really do.” he said, looking toward you as your body stiffened. you never really liked him, and frankly he triggered your fight or flight, but caitlin was you best friend, so as long as she was happy, you stood by her. 
“and do you, caitlin elizabeth clark, take connor mccafferey to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 
“i-“ she began, pausing briefly and glancing to her parents and brothers who sat in the audience, your eyebrows knitting in confusion as she hesitated. 
“caitlin?” the priest questioned as she dropped connor’s hands, whispering before backing away and running down the aisle, the train of her dress in her hands. 
“wait what the hell just happened?” you questioned aloud, looking toward connor as he ran his hands through his hair, turning toward the groomsmen as you look between kate, anne, and brent.
-
you stood outside the bridal suite, kate, caitlin’s parents and brothers behind you as you knocked lightly. 
“coco? it’s just us, let us in! are you okay?” you asked softly, leaning against the door, hearing sniffles from the other side. 
“honey, we just wanna talk. what’s going on?” anne questioned, stepping closer as you listened to a sob escape from her mouth. 
“i don’t wanna talk mom. just- leave me alone!” you heard, her voice receding as you assumed she walked away from the door. 
“caitlin. we just wanna help. if it’s just cold feet-“ kate began, a sudden bang being heard against the door, heavy enough to be a shoe.
“go away! leave me alone!”
“okay, well i’m not dealing with her bullshit today. i stood out in the sun for her. kate hold my flowers.” you spoke, shoving them into the girls chest as you ripped a bobby pin from your hair, leaning down to pick the lock. 
hearing the click, you swing the door open, stepping into the room and scanning with your eyes. 
you spot her curled up on the balcony, her legs pulled to her chest. 
“hey guys, give me a minute. i wanna see something.” you say softly, receiving nods of approval, shutting the door behind you. 
“caitlin?” you ask, watching as she jumps noticing your figure.
“how’d you get in here? get out!” she exclaims, rising to her feet as you show off the pin in your hand. 
“you taught me how to pick a lock, if there’s anyone to blame, it’s you.” you joked, registering the runny makeup on her face as a smile formed on her face. “what’s going on coco? if you won’t talk to your parents, talk to me.” you encourage, moving some pillows from the couch and sitting down as she cautiously makes her way toward you. 
“promise you won’t tell?” she ask, her attitude a bit lighter as you give her a knowing look, patting the seat beside you. 
“i haven’t told a soul your secrets since grade school clark. start talking.” you said leaning back as she began to pull pins from her hair, getting frustrated as you moved to help. 
“i just. i hesitated. i have love for him, but when it came down to saying i do. i mean, i don’t think i can marry him. so many thoughts flashed through my mind. i know he’s not your favorite person in the world, and he made me happy for so long. my family loves him, and he loves me. i know that. but it just went through my mind that he can’t be it for me.” she said, twiddling with her hands, a nervous habit of hers as you placed a hand on top in comfort. 
“do you think there’s any chance of this being cold feet? you’ve been so excited. you had me up at 6AM picking out flowers, i flew out to new york to pick up your dress because you had a game. i’d do it all over again a million times, because i love you. but are you sure?” you ask, watching as fresh tears brim in her eyes
“there’s also been something else on my mind, and it’s kind of scary to think about. but um, i’m not sure how long it’s been a thing for me. but i just haven’t found him attractive, in like any way lately. i’ve had the shortest fuse, and we brushed it off as wedding stress, but i don’t know.” she said, letting out a sigh, laying across your lap. 
“so you guys are in a rough patch. that happens, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t marry him. you do love him caitlin.” you reassure as her body shoots up, her eyes shifting toward you, red and puffy. 
“what no- i don’t. i realized i don’t love him the way that i love you.” she responded, biting at the skin on her lip as you felt your breath get caught in your throat. “i thought. maybe it was the same type of love that i had for kate, but it was just different because i've known you since we were kids. but i love you. i realized that at the end of the day, i want to be with you, always. when we’d talk about kids, our kids separately started to become our kids. i want to grow old with you, and do life with you. i want to fall asleep in your arms and wake up in them. i miss that. i miss that feeling that i got back in high school during sleep overs, not realizing that that same feeling is what i felt croatia.” she spoke, your mind rewinding to the summer in croatia where you along with most of the team got pretty tipsy, caitlin included.
you believed yourself to be a pretty decent drinker, being able to handle your alcohol, but there was something about croatia that had you waking up the next morning with a naked caitlin curled into your side. 
you had talked about it, remembering bits and pieces, but came to the conclusion that it was drunken curiosity. 
“i’ve thought about that night, or at least what i can remember, every night since it happened. i can’t get it out of my mind, and i honestly don’t think i ever wanted to. i can’t marry him, because im in love with you.” 
“so what do you want to do?” you questioned, caitlin scooting closer as you took a breath, processing the information. 
“do you love me? in that way?” she asked, her voice barely audible as you suppressed a smile, giving a slight nod. 
“yeah i do. i’ve loved you since we were 15. but you’ve had a pretty solid record sheet with guys and showing me that you’re straight, or so i assumed. so i just accepted it and let it go.” you stated transparently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned into your hand. 
“you have no clue how happy that makes me. i also don’t care if you’re not ready for marriage yet, i know i said yes to this whole thing, but i feel like it’s because i felt like i needed to. i’d walk down the aisle with you in a second, but i get if you’re not ready.” 
“im not. but i think i will be sometime soon. what do we do from here?” you question, a lot of the tension in the room subsiding, watching her brown eyes roam the room. 
“come here.” was said as you’re pulled down to the floor in front of the couch, a giggle escaping your lips as she crawled in her dress across the room, grabbing a stack of papers from the coffee table. 
“what are you doing? you have people waiting for you to get married, or at this point announce that you’re not.” you say, reprimanding the girl as she rips the paper apart, rolling up small pieces. 
“just give me a second. okay, give me your hand.” she demanded, offering a hand before slipping a makeshift paper ring on your empty ring finger. “there. it’s like high school, but instead of promising to be each other's best friends, i’m promising to give you more than that.” a smile on her face as a knock is heard on the door. 
“caitlin? babe?” is heard as your eyes widen, watching her breath intake sharply. 
“is it bad that i forgot about him?” she questions, a fearful look on her face as you smile, standing to your feet. 
“talk to him, talk to your parents. i’m going to go talk to kate, and we’ll let everyone know there will be no wedding.” you say, helping her to her feet with a smile, turning on your heel. 
“hey. wait.” she said quickly, turning toward her as she presses a kiss to your lips, grasping your face with both hands before pulling away. “i love you”
-
you sat awkwardly in the lounge, kate staring at you from her spot on the couch. caitlin had bought her family and connor in at the same time to talk to them and the guests were dismissed from the ceremony but invited to enjoy the catered food they had planned on serving.
you felt anxiety in the pit of your stomach, shifting in your chair as kate continued to stare, her eyes narrowing. 
“kate stop looking at me like that.” you demanded, frustration in your tone as she churned her head, smiling softly. 
“you guys fucked in croatia didn’t you?” she questioned, your eyes widening at the question. 
“KATE!” 
“i knew it! you were both walking around weird that morning, the tension on that plane ride was crazy. but i’m assuming her calling the wedding off was for more than just a one night stand?” the blonde quizzed as you nodded silently. 
“she loves you, doesn’t she?”, another nod of the head. 
“i kept telling her she was gay, she kept denying it. i was right! but seriously, i think this will work out. maybe not right now with everything going on, but it will.” 
you heard the door open, turning to watch as connor stormed out, his face red as you could tell he’d been crying, followed by caitlin whose face was also tear stained and her family trailing behind her.
“so are you guys getting married or did i buy this suit for nothing?” colin jokes, walking and plopping down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder as he leaned against you, pressing a soft kiss against your head. 
“colin leave her alone. this is definitely news, but you’re still family and we don’t love you any less. if you guys are happy, then that’s all we can pray for. it’ll take some getting used to, but i feel like it’ll feel like our normal in no time.” anne speaks, offering a smile as she places a hand on your shoulder, brent nodding along. 
“and hey, i don’t have to sit through a boring reception dinner. no offense cait honey.” brent says, caitlin waving him off as she grins at you. 
“i think we should go see what’s left from the catering, and go back to the hotel. also let’s make sure connor isn’t starting world war 3 on twitter and try and relax.” kate suggest, standing and squeezing caitlin’s shoulder as she smiles at you. 
 “ i think that sounds good.” you agreed, standing to your feet as caitlin mirrored you. 
-
you stood staring at the different options, the room pretty empty except for you, kate, caitlin, and her immediate family. there were still some stragglers, but it looks like most people either just left, or took food to go and were on their way. 
you felt a hand on your lower back, turning to see caitlin standing beside you, a soft closed smile on her face as she leaned into the crook of your neck. 
“thank you. for everything.” 
“of course, you’re one of my favorite people in this world.” you say, her hair falling down your shoulder as she hugs you. 
“do you think connor would be okay with me taking you to australia over him?” 
“i don’t think he really gets a say if you and your family paid for most of the wedding.” 
“wait you’re so right. where’s my phone?” she questioned as you gave her a warning look knowing her notifications would be a war zone themselves. 
“let’s just get some cake right now. yeah?” you suggested in place as she pulled away, a bit of a pout on her face as she agreed to your statement, picking up a plate of her own. 
“hey. i love you. like a lot.” she says, a smile resting on your face as you hummed. 
“i assumed you did, otherwise i don’t think you would have left your fiancé at the alter for me.” you joke, hearing her laugh loudly in response as she presses her forehead to yours, a bright grin on her face. 
“i’m glad we figured out it wasn’t just cold feet.” 
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midnightarcheress · 2 days
Text
you panic.
pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: reader's pov. panic attack, simon in protective mode, hurt/comfort ig? 6 | gold rush masterlist.
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you couldn’t breathe. the room seemed small, walls closing in and trapping your limp figure inside of an endless nightmare, compressing your lungs until no air reached your alveolus. the mirror reflected the terror stamped on your face, bloodshot eyes staring at the terrifying warning that froze your blood flow and the trembling hands clutching to your arms, wrapping your torso like a straightjacket, desperately trying to pressure your body into disappearing from that reality.
up to this point, you’ve managed to control your fear. shove your worries aside, trust that nothing would trespass your walls and infinite security measures, promise yourself that it would never infest your brain, but that was the last straw. it was your home. you weren’t safe anywhere and it was just a matter of time until you’d be ripped to shreds in your own garden, crimson painting the destroyed flower beds and a golden crown placed on your head like a perfect corpse-bride.
your knees dropped to the frigid floor with a thud, dreadful mist clouding your vision as tears rolled down your cheeks. you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak, and the alcohol in your veins only managed to heighten the panic. your soul was floating out of your form, knocking on the bars of the prison, looking for a way out of the ordeal and hoping that it was just a hallucination. the loud thumps of your heart ringed in your ears, muffling Ghost’s attempts to get your attention.
the knot in your throat kept tightening, constricting your vocal cords until the only sounds that could be heard were your strained sobs. being in your own skin was overwhelming and you’d give it all to escape the well you were stranded in, but the water was rising quickly, covering your head and drowning any attempt at tranquillity.
“hey, i’m here,” Ghost said, trying to coax you back to the present, “just focus on my voice, can you take a deep breath for me?” 
your dilated pupils take the sight of him crouched on the floor and follow the movement of his chest, letting his low timbre pierce your eardrum and soothe your heartbeat. you mimic him, feeling the crisp air cursing through your nostrils, down your trachea and bronchi, finally having enough oxygen in your system. 
“can i touch you?” he asks, and you notice the concern behind his hazel irises. you can’t ignore the shame that came with your panicked state, breaking down in front of someone you barely know and who must’ve endured so much worse in his life. you hate feeling weak, frail, like you’d crumble by just one look, but you need comfort. need it so badly that you nod, allowing him to take your quivering hand in his.
his grip is firm, and despite the roughness of his palm, the touch is delicate, tender, enveloping you in gentle heat. you melt in his arms, pitiful sobs leaving your lips when you turn in nothing more than putty in that moment. “shh, i got you, everything will be alright,” he coos, doing his best to calm you, but you couldn’t believe him.
how could everything be alright? the last ounce of safety you had was just taken from you. “it’s my– it’s my home, Ghost,” you stutter, lifting your head to look at him, “i’m not safe in my own home anymore, i can’t–” another wave of tears flood your waterline, and you stop before finishing your sentence. the anxiety was still bubbling in your stomach, it was still too much to handle at once. 
“i know, love, i’ll get you out of here, trust me. nothing will harm you. now just breathe, okay? slow and steady.” his tone is light, almost ethereal, but unmistakably determined. it sounded more than just a phrase to pacify you. it was a promise. a vow. one made with his whole heart and he wouldn’t die before making sure you’re safe.
it takes a while before your brain settles back, slipping out of the hysteria. Ghost lifts you to your feet, taking a step back to give you some space. you sense him studying your expressions, wanting a hint of how to proceed. “what do you need?” he questions softly.
what do i need? the query lingers on your mind while he gazes at you. you're not sure. you never had an attack like this, never had an emotional collapse, never needed so much comfort. “i... don't know,” you gulp, glancing around the room and viewing the bathroom door, “i guess i could go for, uhm, a bath? it might help, right?”
he nods, pacing past you and walking through the door. you faintly hear the running water filling the bathtub and you strip off your heels, your clothes, let your hair fall down and your skin feel the cool air of the room. you shiver, but the tingling of the cold reminds you that you’re still alive, so there’s still a flimsy hope of peace in your future. 
you put on a robe and head to the bathroom, tip-toeing on the chilling tiles. Ghost moves to the exit, allowing you privacy in your vulnerable state, but your meek request makes him freeze on the spot. “can you... stay?” you sigh, “i’m scared of being alone right now.”
he pauses, not knowing how to answer, and you shift your weight from one leg to another, fingers fidgeting with the fluffy belt that holds your covering in place, regretting even asking for such a thing. “sure.” he clears his throat, taking a seat in the tiny wooden ottoman in the corner. the image is quite comical, the bulky man slowly leaning down to the stool as if one glance from him would crack the material, and a timid chuckle escapes your mouth.
his face turns to the side when you undo the knot of your robe and you feel the heat coming to your cheeks when you come to your senses. what the fuck did i ask? you’re bare, slipping into the warm water that was supposed to relieve your anxious mood, but that mainly swells your chest with embarrassment. 
you don’t know if you should be grateful that he’s not making a big deal of it, or sink in the tub due to the quiet – too quiet – atmosphere. Ghost is nothing but a gentleman at that moment, maintaining his head down and eyes away from your blurred naked body, so different from every man you’ve been near. they all seem to think that because you’re known, famous, whatever, you’re merely a doll on display for public use. it’s nice to not feel like an object.
after a long hour of letting the water purge your anguishes, you find yourself draped on a blanket on the sofa, sipping on a cup of chamomile tea that he, so heartily, prepared. he’s on the phone in the next room, and you don’t want to pry, but your ears unconsciously perk up to catch some of his words. he’s talking to someone named Price? something about a safe house? 
a few minutes later, he’s back, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. “so, we’re gonna move,” your brows raised, confused by his statement, “talked to an old friend and i got you a safe place, you can stay there as long as you need, the bastard won’t find you. and i’ll be there with you all the time, okay?” he’s gonna stay with me?
rationally, you know it’s a good idea. you don’t feel protected in your house anymore, and having him constantly by your side would probably give your heart a rest and unburden your shoulders. but moving is a big thing for a life so regulated. “Dan–” 
“i’ll talk to him tomorrow, don’t worry,” he assures, putting a hand on your knee and giving you a small smile. your vision was so hazy before that you didn’t even notice that he had his mask down, and you find yourself musing on the curve of his lips. 
“thank you, Ghost.”
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lives-in-midgard · 2 days
Text
Taking Care Of You
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Pairing: Chris Evans x reader
Summary: When Chris finds out that you're sick he wants to be there for you.
Word Count: 1165
Request: I saw requests are open can I ask for a fluff one with Evans and reader is sick and he's there to care for her? It can be hubby/wife and bf/gf or even best friends up to you. Thank you!! [See request here]
A/N: Thank you for sending me this request! I hope you like it! The picture above inspired the parts were they were facetiming.
Divider made by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
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It’s already been two months since your boyfriend Chris Evans left to film his new movie. You missed each other a lot but face timing and texting made it more bearable. Chris tried to call you as often as possible and when he didn’t have time, he sent you a text message. Because he was away filming Chris and you decided that it would be the best if Dodger stayed at your place and when you were at work his brother would look after him.
After picking up Dodger after work, you weren’t feeling well, so you decided to take Dodger for a walk. You thought that it would help when you suddenly sneezed. When you got home you suddenly felt cold and decided to go to bed and watch a movie while cuddling with Dodger. After a while your phone rang and when you looked at it, you started to smile because it was Chris.
“Hey, honey.” He said with a smile.
“Hey, babe.”
“You’re already in bed?” Chris asked a little worried.
“Oh yeah, I wanted to lie down for a while…work was really exhausting today.” You said because you didn’t want to worry him.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry you’ve had such a hard day.” Chris said softly.
“How was your day so far?” You asked and suddenly had to sneeze.
“Bless you, my love.” Chris said and made you blush.
“Well, my day was pretty good. Filming is going great so far.”
“That’s amazing Chris.” You said and sneezed twice and then started to shiver.
“Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart?”
“It’s probably just a little cold.” You said, trying to smile.
“But please promise to let me know if it gets worse.” Chris told you in a worried tone and you nodded.
“Okay, I promise.” You talked for a while about everything that came to your mind and Chris also told you a lot about his day and his new co-stars.
“I miss you so much and can’t wait to be home with you again.” Chris said after a while.
“I miss you too, babe.” You said and you both said I love you, before saying goodbye because Chris had to go.
When you woke up the next morning, you felt so much sicker than the day before. Now you weren’t only sneezing, but you also started to cough and felt slightly dizzy. You decided that it would be the best if you stayed home and called in sick at work. After calling at work, you called Scott to ask if he could pick up Dodger because you were sick.
Most of the time you stayed in bed all day and only got out of bed to get something to eat. When you were lying in bed again with at least two blankets, you suddenly heard your phone ringing. You started to smile, but it quickly faded because you knew how worried Chris can be sometimes, especially when he is away. But you didn’t want to ignore his call, so you picked up and tried to smile.
“Hey, sweetheart.” You greeted each other and Chris knew immediately that you weren’t feeling well. There was no chance of denial, so you told him how you really felt.
“Oh no, I wish I could be home and take care of you.” Chris mumbled with a sad expression in his eyes.
“Should I come home?” Chris then suddenly asked.
“No, Chris it’s okay… really.” Then you told him that Dodger is staying at his brother’s home because you didn’t feel the energy of going for a walk with him and thought it would be the best. Chris understood that and hoped that you feel better soon. You only talked for a few more minutes because you felt so tired. Chris understood that, but he was also so sad that he couldn’t be there for you. You didn’t sleep very well that night, you woke up a few times because you were either too cold or too warm. You felt a little better in the afternoon than in the morning. Later when Chris called you, he sadly couldn’t facetime, so you could only talk without seeing each other. You talked for a while when you suddenly heard a knock on the front door.
“Wait, someone is at the door, I’ll call you back babe.” You said, wondering who was at the door. You walked to your apartment door, a bit slowly because you were dizzy. When you opened the door, you couldn’t believe who was standing there.
“Chris, what are you doing here?”
“I came here to take care of my girl. I couldn’t stay away from you any longer, especially when I knew that you’re sick.” Chris said as he walked closer to you.
“Oh, Chris thank you.” You said and started to shake.
“Come on honey, let’s get you to bed.” When he noticed that you were getting dizzy, Chris put his hand on your back and guided you to your room. You laid back down in your bed and Chris gently kissed your forehead.
“I’ll go and make you some tea.”
When Chris came back a few minutes later, he placed the cup of tea on your bedside table. You took a few sips and Chris held your back.
“Now let’s cuddle.” Chris said with a smile.
“Are you sure, I don’t want you to get sick.” You asked as Chris already made himself comfortable next to you.
“I’m sure, sweetheart.” You smiled and Chris then wrapped his arms around you. You slept for a while until you felt Chris touching your forehead.
“Sorry that I woke you up honey, but you have a fever.” He said in a soothing voice.
“Oh” You mumbled tiredly, and Chris tucked a hear behind your ear with a worried look on his face.
“Do you have any medicine here?” He asked and you nodded and told him where to find it.
“I’ll get it quick.” Chris said and gave you a smile. After a few minutes he was back with the medicine in his hand.
“Can you sit up for me, sweetheart? Just for a second, so you can take your medicine.” Chris asked and you nodded. Then he helped you to sit up, so your back was leaning against the headboard of the bed. Chris helped you take your medication and then you laid back down.
“Thank you for coming home to me.” You said after you cuddled again.
“I would come home anytime for you.” Chris held you tight and rubbed your back softly.
For the next few days, he took care of you as best as he could. Chris made sure you took your medicine, made you a bath, cooked for you and was there to give you cuddles. A few days later you felt so much better, but Chris still didn’t want to leave you, so he stayed another week to spend some time with his girl.
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Taglist:
@marvelogic | @rogersbarber | @eviebuggg | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 | @cutedisneygrl | @buckys-wintersoldier
69 notes · View notes
sxcret-garden · 2 days
Text
2nd Desire ღ Tie Me Down [M]
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ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ feat.: Yeosang ღ words: ~5.1k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, reader masturbating and asking to be punished for it, reader’s hands tied together, he’s a bit mean but goes soft dom when reader shows signs of discomfort, strength kink, fingering, some body worship, teasing, begging, unprotected sex) ღ warnings: (him running his hand through reader’s hair)
Desc.: Lost in your excitement over the recent development in your relationship with your boyfriend Jongho, you try to tickle more of his dominant side out of him. When he shuts down that attempt with only the best of intentions, he makes sure you won’t stay flustered by your miscalculation for long.
Author's note: chapter 2 and I'm STILL nervous about posting kasjdfölksa I hope you guys enjoy though~ alsoalso I decided to do a taglist for this fic, so if you want to be added, just drop me an ask about it <3
← prev chapter ღ next chapter →
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You drop your bag beside the entrance as you walk into Jongho’s apartment, the little melody resounding when the door falls into its lock that’s usually just another background noise to you manages to annoy you on this day. It’s only half past 4, yet you feel like you’ve been awake for more than 20 hours. 
You slip out of your shoes and step inside, the sofa in the living room being your destination. With a groan you let your body flop down onto it, the cushioned surface softening the impact. You’ve been at university since morning, your first class of the day being quite an interesting one and almost making you forget about the dreadful events that would follow suit. For lunch you met up with other students from your major to work on your group project, and these people really remind you time and time again why you absolutely hate group projects. You’re a group of seven, yet somehow the only ones taking the whole thing seriously are you and Yeosang, a guy you’ve done a course with before and who you luckily ended up being in the same group with. You know from back then that he does his work diligently enough - what you didn’t know was how badly the other five would do. One of them ran late, claiming he was convinced the meeting would start at 2 and not at half past 1, one of them didn’t show up at all, the others half-assed their parts and one girl only did half of what she was supposed to do. It’s a mess, and it’s stressing you out, because you’re getting a shared group grade for the paper. If you were being graded individually, you would’ve already decided to just do well on your own part, and make sure to precisely document who worked how much, but since you can’t exactly do that here it eventually came to the point where you decided it would be better if you took over the lead. As the person who has assigned herself the role of scolding the others into doing their work properly, you didn’t exactly gain their sympathy, but thankfully Yeosang was right there to have your back. Sharing their disdain was still better than having to shoulder it all alone, so you made a mental note to thank him with a cup of coffee or a meal later on.
But for now you want nothing more than to get this stupid project out of your mind, and lying motionlessly on the sofa and staring at a wall without any kind of distraction from your angry thoughts running wild isn’t exactly the best way to go about that. So you get up with a heavy sigh, peeking into your boyfriend’s room through the gap in the door standing ajar, before walking inside. He isn’t home yet - you assume he must be on his way, because his last class of the day should’ve ended about 10 minutes ago. Walking over to his closet, you open the side where he made space for some of your clothes, and you grab some comfortable pants and a t-shirt you haven’t worn in a while. There’s the logo of a game printed at the front - coincidentally a game you both used to play when you were still in school, and one of the topics you bonded over as you were slowly becoming closer.
You trod over to the bathroom, figuring you should take a shower in an attempt to clear your mind first of all - maybe you could magically find a way to wash off all the frustration the day has drenched you in. Either way, at least the warm water raining down on your skin has a calming effect on you, and so for a few minutes you merely stand there, doing nothing. You reach for the soap eventually, and as you’re cleaning yourself your thoughts slowly drift elsewhere.
Until you remember the conversation you had with Jongho about establishing a different kind of dynamic between you two. Your fingers dance up your body to your throat, and padding them onto your pulse reminds you of what it felt like to have his hand in this position instead. The thoughts of the project are quickly forgotten, yet your cells have not quite let go of the frustration yet - but that’s nothing a quick orgasm couldn’t take care of, right?
So you let your hands wander, allowing them to map out your own body wherever instinct leads them, and as your fingers find your core, you let out a long sigh. This feels like just what you need right now, so you don’t hold back, beginning to draw circles onto your sensitive bud. Feeling your limbs relax from the sensation, you lean your back against the wall, and eventually you reach out for the shower head, changing the setting to the highest pressure and letting it do the work for you.
You don’t think of much at all, simply enjoying the pleasure coursing through your body, until you can sense yourself coming closer to the edge, and you buck your hips up against the water jet.
“Fuck…” you whimper, as a scenario crosses your mind. “What if he finds out…” You gulp at the thought of Jongho figuring out you got off without him, in his apartment, and your mind begins to wander as you fantasize about all the ways in which he might punish you for it. Another curse escapes you through gritted teeth, and soon you feel your high crashing down on you, walls clenching around nothing as his name falls from your lips.
You step out of the shower feeling refreshed, purposely not changing back the setting of the shower head. You want him to catch you, want to know about all the things he would do to you that you haven’t seen him do before. Slipping into fresh clothes and wrapping a towel around your head to let your hair dry a bit before finishing the process with a blow dryer, you grin to yourself and you walk out into the living room. 
Your boyfriend comes home about half an hour later, just as you’re putting the blow dryer back to its original place in one of the cabinets in his bathroom. You suppress the excited grin that just won’t leave your lips, and instead greet him as per usual.
“You’re late,” you remark as you catch sight of the time displayed on your phone screen.
“Yeah, the subway was crowded. Should’ve taken the bus,” he mutters as he walks up to you, his hand patting your head in a gesture that’s supposed to say “I’m home.”
“Right, it’s starting to get bad at this time,” you continue your small talk.
“How did your meet-up go?”
“Don’t ask…” you brush it off quickly, hoping to ward off the stress creeping up to you again upon him mentioning it.
“That bad?” Jongho asks as he lets out a short laugh while he furrows his eyebrows, telling you he feels at least a little sorry for you.
“Yeah.” You roll your eyes. “And you? How was your day?”
“Don’t ask,” he answers, and now you’re the one chuckling. “I’ll go wash up real quick, and I think I’ll need some time to decompress afterwards.”
“Sure,” you mutter, before reaching up from where you’ve made yourself comfortable on the edge of the sofa, hand snaking behind his neck so you could pull him in for a quick peck on the lips. 
And so he disappears in the bathroom, you hear him turning on the water and you hear him turning it off again after a while, and with every passing second, the excitement for what’s to come is only growing. Except when he’s done, he simply informs you he’s going to game for a bit, and then he walks into his room. You’re confused to say the least, and a bit disappointed as well. This is not going according to the plan you had in mind, and you wonder if it’s just because he’s had a bad day or if maybe he just isn’t in the mood today. Trying to brush it off, you grab a book you started a while ago, staying out in the living room as you attempt to read a chapter or two, but somehow your mind just won’t let you focus on the story unfolding on the pages in front of you. So eventually you get up, deciding to sneakily follow him instead - you’re not sure why you’re being so secretive all of a sudden.
Your boyfriend is certainly good at reading the room, and it’s helped you leave behind your own awkwardness more than once. So today as well you decide to simply sit at the edge of his bed and watch him play his game, hoping for him to notice something’s off as you’re trying to find the right words to say. And without doubt, he doesn’t disappoint.
“What’s with you?” he asks in between rounds, his voice soft in contrast to the serious stance he tends to take on while playing his games. 
“Just…” you’re not sure how to start, how much to hint at what you want - you sure as hell aren’t thinking of just saying it straightforwardly, now that you’re beginning to feel a bit embarrassed about it.
“Hmm?” He drags out the sound a bit, then the image on his screen changes, and he adds, “Let me finish this and then we can talk?”
“Alright.” You’re suddenly more anxious than you would’ve expected yourself to be as you watch, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt the entire time. The time spent waiting for him to turn his attention to you feels like half an eternity, even though once he’s done you’re sure it can’t have been more than five minutes. He exits the game to the main menu, and as he takes off his headset, he turns to you in his chair.
“What is it?” You see worry on his face, and you immediately feel the need to let him know it’s nothing serious, really.
“Nothing bad!” you say. 
“That’s good,” Jongho answers, relief behind his words.
“Just… didn’t you… notice anything?” You rub your legs together as you avert your gaze from him, but even in the corner of your eye you can tell he’s thinking hard about your question now.
“Notice anything?” he repeats, and then suddenly his eyes narrow, and there’s an amused smile about to creep onto his lips. “Like what?” At this point you’d have sworn you could see the exact moment the dots connected in his head, so his question throws you off a little.
“Like… uhm… I showered earlier.”
“Good,” he chuckles, and you press yourself on to continue.
“And uh…. maybe got off…”
“Oh. That’s nice,” he replies, and once again you’re thrown off, this time by the way the tension in the room drops right away, and he’s now showing you a genuine smile. “Why are you telling me about that though? Want me to come watch next time?” He tries to throw in a joke, but the confusion radiating off you makes him think again, and well, now you’re sure he understands what you’re trying to get at, because he raises up his chin just a little, giving you that look that’s supposed to say “I found you out.”
“Were you maybe thinking I would punish you for that?” he assumes correctly, and you nod, heat rushing to your face now. 
“Yes…” Jongho laughs. It’s more of a giggle, actually, and the amusement in his expression only adds to your confusion. And then he becomes serious, though his features keep their softness.
“Look… I’m sorry to disappoint you but… I’m not going to do anything we haven’t discussed beforehand,” he explains, making sure to be clear about his thoughts. “My first impulse isn’t to punish you for masturbating. But if you want me to, we can talk about it.”
“O-okay,” you stammer, and once again there’s this endearing smile on his face, spreading from ear to ear. You know it’s meant to reassure you, but right now all you can focus on is the embarrassment burning in your chest from making such a severe miscalculation. This isn’t how things go in real life, of course it isn’t. You should know that, and yet-
“Hey,” he calls out to you, hand reaching for yours, giving you a squeeze to tear you out of your thoughts. “Let’s talk about it.” 
He’s also good at that - saying the right thing at the right moment. Or at least he tends to say the things you need to hear in moments like this, and once again you feel unmistakably that you’re safe with him, and that you’re in this together.
“Okay.”
“So…” letting go of your hand, he leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, and you feel the dynamic shift ever so slightly as he won’t divert his eyes from you. “What kind of punishment were you thinking of?” You raise your eyebrows, and you begin to ponder on his question, but somehow your head is suddenly empty.
“I… don’t know…” you admit, and he grins at your words again.
“You didn’t think about what you want me to do to you now?”
“I mean… I did… but more… in a general sense,” you stammer.
“Like what?”
“Like… you fucking me…” And there it is again, that laugh that’s really more of a giggle than an actual laugh.
“You didn’t think about what comes before that?”
“Not… really?” you admit, and he clears his throat.
“Then how about I tell you what came to mind for me, and you tell me if that sounds okay to you?” You nod okay, and he continues, “So what I was thinking is that I could restrict you in some way… putting you in handcuffs maybe, or blindfolding you.”
“I don’t think I’m okay with the blindfolding,” you respond. “Handcuffs sounds… nice though.” 
“See? This is just why I didn’t want us to rush into this,” your partner says. “Because if we move too fast, misconceptions about what the other wants, or just about how this whole thing works are bound to go unnoticed.”
“You’re right,” you agree, being able to see where you went wrong with your assumptions clear as day now. “Then… let’s take it slow. Talk before we do stuff.” An awkward laugh escapes you as you’re speaking those words, because after all you were the one trying to rush into this, and now you can’t help but feel thankful that he stopped you just in time.
“So…” Jongho gets up from his chair, walking over to his closet and rummaging through one of the shelves, pulling out a dark red tie. “I think this is gonna look pretty on you. That okay?” You nod, merely watching as he walks over to you, and when he tells you to take off your clothes first of all, you don’t hesitate. Placing yourself on top of the bed, kneeling in the middle of it, he sits in front of you, and you hold out your hands for him to tie them together. “Not too tight?”
“No, it’s fine,” you answer, the soft texture of the fabric feeling quite good around your wrists, actually.
“I don’t have actual handcuffs, unfortunately…” he explains as he checks the knot one more time, and then he lifts one of his hands to run his fingers through your hair, eyeing you thoroughly. There’s a serious expression on his face now, he’s concentrated as he lets his fingertips brush against the side of your throat, but the way he allows for a smirk to creep onto his lips when you instinctively lean your head back to give him access tells you he’s very much having fun with this.
“You really like that, huh?” he mutters, wrapping his hand loosely around your throat, the warmth of his touch alone causing your heart to beat faster.
“Yeah…” you mouth, and to your disdain he moves on. His fingers draw imaginary trails down your body, moving slowly and deliberately, and his eyes follow their every move.
“So beautiful… too bad I’m gonna have to wreck you.” He speaks silently, and whether it’s because of the tone in his voice or his words you don’t know, but it’s giving you shivers all over and you gulp. His hand eventually finds its way to your side, snuggly fitting into the space between your waist and your arm, and he leans in to brush his lips against yours. It’s a short kiss, yet he lingers there for a few seconds before pulling back merely a few inches - the kind of kiss that’s meant to make you want more. “Want me to punish you, hm? Then, what if I push you a bit? Be a little less nice than usual and not give you everything you want right away.” You suck in a sharp breath at his words. “You’d like that?”
“Y-yeah,” you say, tension building up. You’re not sure what exactly he has planned, but you know he wouldn’t push you too far… right? He wraps the fingers of his free hand around your wrists, and as he brings them up above your head he pushes you back into the mattress, carefully, gently. And yet you don’t miss the dangerous glint in his eyes as he’s now gazing down on you, hovering above you as he pins you against the bed. Lowering his head, he makes you mewl as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he scatters a few nips here and there.
“What’s your color, dear?”
“Green… very green,” you sigh, feeling his weight on top of your chest. 
“That’s good,” he speaks quietly as he comes back up, his face now being right in front of you and the tips of your noses touching for one short moment. You think he’s going to kiss you, but then he sits up instead, letting go of you to rid himself of his shirt. With every movement of his you can see the outlines of his muscles working underneath the skin, and the urge to touch him, to run your nails down his chest and his stomach, makes you bring your hands up. For a moment you forget that they’re tied together, and you frown at the restraint, and before you can do anything more, your boyfriend is quick to click his tongue at you as he reaches for your hands and pins them back down above your head.
“Wanna touch me so bad, hm?” he assumes correctly, and then he adds, moving closer to your ear, whispering sharply, “No touching unless I allow it.”
“O-okay,” you mutter. You can unmistakably feel the power he has over you now, both in the way you don’t have the strength to free yourself from his physical restraint, and in the way you feel yourself immediately submitting to his verbal restraint. 
“Stay like this,” he then says and you nod as he sits back up. This time he lets his palms run down your upper body once as he kneels on top of you, going over to dragging his nails down your skin once he reaches your hips and doing the exact thing you would’ve craved to do to him. But you obey, waiting patiently for his next move. “So pretty…” he mutters, his intense gaze burning on your skin, and after having his hands wandering all the way back up, he leans in to leave a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. And again there’s this urge to move your hands, to throw your arms around his shoulders as his lips are mapping out your features, but you can’t. You shouldn’t, and so you resist.
He kisses his way down your stomach, biting your flesh here and there without applying too much pressure, and the way he’s taking his time with it doesn’t help your case as you’re having an internal battle against your own impatience. Rubbing your thighs together as he’s hovering just above your core and he’s touching you everywhere but where you need him the most, you reach your breaking point.
“Jongho…” you call out his name. “Please.” He merely chuckles at your plea, not even looking up at you now.
“What?” His voice is low, quiet. Calmness radiates off of him, like he knows that he has all the time in the world for this.
“T-touch me please…” you mewl.
“Hmm,” he makes a noise as he appears to be thinking about your request. “But do you deserve that?” You let out a whine at his question, and you frown when he crawls all the way back up, only to press a teasing kiss to your lips. “Do you deserve my touch when clearly you decided that you can also just do the job yourself?” He moves up further, his lips brushing against your wrists just below where he tied them together, and then against the knuckles on your fingers. “Can’t get yourself off now, can you?” He places his hand over yours, pushing your wrists into the fluffy blanket as if to put an emphasis on his words. 
“Please…” you start another attempt at getting him to do what you want, but he merely sends you a smirk. 
“You’re choosing the shower head over me and now you think I’ll give you what you want so easily? That’s naive.” You frown, and you pout up at him, and for a second his features soften, before he moves his hand from your wrists to your chin, tilting it up slightly. Then he places a kiss onto your jaw, and he asks, “Color?”
“Green…” You idiot - you add in your mind, and when he comes back up to get a good look at your face, you can undeniably see the amusement on his face.
“Didn’t think you’d like being treated like this so much,” Jongho comments, and then he lets his hand wander from your chin down to your lower stomach. “Really makes me want to do this all day.” Fuck. You gulp at his words, thighs pressing together just as he slips a finger in between, dragging it up your folds once, and you don’t expect a singular touch to affect you this much, but you find yourself arching your back as you moan in response anyway.
“Relax,” he says, tapping your thigh once, and you do, spreading your legs apart just a little to give him better access. He doesn’t hesitate to make use of that, watching for even the tiniest of reactions as he gathers your juices on his fingertip, moving it back up and making you whimper as he begins drawing circles onto your clit. You buck your hips into his hand once, causing him to sit up so he could use his other hand to press them back down, immobilizing you. “So needy…” he breathes as he continues on, watching you, and granting you a few teasing touches to your wet pussy. He slips a finger inside, drawing another moan from your lips, and when he adds a second one, pumping them in and out of you at an unhurried pace, you think you could cum on the spot. And he notices the way he’s affecting you, because now he asks you with a cocky smirk on his face that bodes no good whatsoever,
“You like that?” You nod, whimpering, and when he pulls out, the feeling of deprivation that overcomes you makes you whine with anger - though you don’t sound nearly as angry as you would’ve liked. “Too bad.”
“Keep going, please…!” you try to beg, and it seems to strike something deep within him, because now he raises his eyebrows at you, listening intently.
“What was that?”
“K-keep going… please… please…” you add, the desperation in your voice being obvious. “Don’t stop now… w-wanna cum on your fingers…”
“I’m sure you do, dear,” he whispers, leaning in to place a soothing kiss onto your tummy, but it just makes you more furious.
“Please!” you cry out, balancing on the edge between pleasure and frustration, and you know that you wouldn’t want him to push you any further. For a second you wonder whether you should tell him, ask him to go easier on you even though you were the one who wanted him to punish you so badly. But he seems to notice your inner conflict, and his smirk softens into a benevolent smile as he brushes his lips against the inside of your thigh now.
“Is that where the line is?” he asks, and you hesitantly nod. He comes up to comb his fingers through your hair, brushing away a strand that’s sticking to your forehead. “Then let’s not take it any further than this, okay?”
“Yeah.” He cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing against your lips, and he questions,
“What do you want me to do, love?”
“Fuck me… please…” you say with furrowed brows, and he chuckles at the sight in front of him. Caressing your cheek as he slowly takes his hand away in order to rid himself of the remainder of his clothes, he retorts,
“I can’t believe someone could say something so dirty with such an innocent expression on their face.” And now that you’re becoming aware of what you must look like right now, you find it funny too, and you let out a short laugh.
Your boyfriend places himself on top of you, one hand wrapping around his length in order to give himself a few strokes until he’s fully hard, while he has the other placed next to your head to support his weight on top of it. “Wanna hold onto me? Or…” You shake your head. “Want me to pin you down?” Adrenaline rushes through your veins, making you tingle all over from the thought of it, and you nod. Again, he seems amused by your reaction. “After all that you still want me to manhandle you, huh?” Him saying it out loud fills you with bashfulness all of a sudden, and still you feel the need to confirm that he’s right.
“Yes… please,” you mutter. He positions himself in between your legs, aligning himself with your core.
“You good?” he asks, and when you give him the okay he pushes into you. 
“Fuck…” The feeling of having him finally filling you up makes you hiss a curse as you’re throwing your head back from the overwhelming satisfaction. Jongho reaches for your wrists, pinning you down just like you had asked, and he leans in, his nose brushing against the skin right in front of your ear.
“Can you do me a favour, then?”
“Wh-what?” you stutter, impatience building up inside you again.
“I want to hear you beg for me again… can you do that?” You whine as he rolls his hips into yours once, and without hesitation you grant his wish.
“Please… please fuck me…”
“Mhm… that’s right…” he mutters, and from the way his voice changes as he begins slowly thrusting into you, you can tell he too has been exerting himself holding back from touching you properly more than you thought. 
“Please… feels so good… b-baby please…” you keep going, your moans turning into mere whimpers when he reaches down between your bodies in order to tend to your clit. “F-fuck… w-wanna cum on your cock… wanna cum so bad…!” you whine, racing towards your high at lightning speed. 
“Shit, you’re perfect,” he utters, his hips beginning to stutter, and the groans falling from his lips becoming more frequent. “So fucking perfect.”
You cry out when your high comes crashing down on you, hands formed into fists and your nails digging into your palms. Once again you try to instinctively throw your arms around your boyfriend’s shoulders, and when you meet resistance as he’s still pinning you against the bed, your mind is flooded with that much more pleasure. He cums with a broken moan as you’re beginning to come down from your high, whining from the overstimulation as you let him thrust into you a few more times, and then he collapses on top of you.
Both panting, he lets go of your wrists and you immediately bring your arms up to put them around his frame, and this time he lets you. Eventually, after catching his breath, he rolls over onto his back, sitting up and undoing your restraints.
“You feeling okay?” You nod at his question, your eyelids too heavy to open, but you smile at him.
“More than,” you mutter, and when he lies back down beside you, you snuggle up close to him. Reaching for your hands, he holds onto one of them, thumb rubbing circles against your wrist, and when you look up you find worry in his eyes. “I really am okay, baby,” you whisper one more time, and he instinctively brings your hand that he’s holding onto in closer to his chest.
“Okay…” he just says, trusting your words, and you send him a sweet smile. Freeing your hand from his grasp, you bring it up to his head, fingers combing through his hair.
“Thank you…” you say, slurring your words a bit as the blissful afterglow of your high lingers in your mind. Your boyfriend lets out a sigh, eyelids fluttering shut at the sensation of you massaging his scalp. “For being careful. And for taking care of me so well.” And now there’s this smile creeping onto his lips. It’s barely noticeable, and yet you can tell how your words are affecting him. And in the next second he throws his arm around you, catching you by surprise as he pulls you on top of himself and engulfs you in a tight hug. He says nothing, you know that sometimes it’s hard for him to speak his mind in moments like these, but by now you know him well enough to know what he’s trying to convey with his actions. You giggle at the way he presses a kiss to the side of your face before having you rest your head atop his chest, loosening his embrace a bit to allow you to lie down comfortably. You too snake one arm around his waist, and with your heart swelling with your love for him that seems to know no end, you bury your smile in the crook of his neck.
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transmascaraa · 2 days
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Readers lover heard a scream from the readers room - instantly alarmed, they go see just what the heck happened to find that.... ....the reader was building one of those mini-lego sets (If you've ever seen sanrio Lego stuff, like smaller Lego than usual) and was screaming from anger as they've been searching for one piece they just can't find for the past hour.
multiple characters headcannons!
building lego isn't easy.
characters: gaming, wanderer, xiao x gn!reader
author's note: sorry for the lack of posts guys🤷‍♂️ life is tough but we'll get through it💪 anyways i love the silly idea‼️ ENJOYYYYYY
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☆ Gaming
-you we're building your legos in peace until you realized that you were missing a piece.
-well, you lost it somewhere, because you could've sworn it was there when you were checking if you had all the parts.
-after a bit of searching, you just scream and lay down on the floor helplessly.
-ofc he got concerned, so he immediately came to the room.
-"WHAT- WHAT HAPPENED? WHAT'S WRONG, MY LOVE?!?"
-he's freaking out.
-after you explain everything to him dramatically, he decides to help you.
-it takes a while to find it, but you eventually find it under the bed.
-he continues building with you from there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
✧ Wanderer
-you were looking for the final piece.
-you've looked absolutely EVERYWHERE.
-it just wasn't there.
-so you gave up, and just screamed and laid flat on your back, on the floor, once again.
-he was worried what the fuck could be happening, so he came to the room, and then looking at you laying down.
-"what the fuck is up? why'd you scream?"
-he looks annoyed.
-you start dramatically telling him how you're trying to find the one missing piece but you gave up.
-he stares at you blankly, until he points mext to the lego box, right beside where you were sitting.
-"you mean that one?"
-"OH MY- YOU'RE RIGHT! THANK YOU SO MUCH SCARA I AM SO GRATEFUL TO HAVE YOU IN MY LIFE-"
-he just left the room thinking of how weird you were, not understanding how he fell for you in the first place.
-maybe it's the weirdness that he was missing in his life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
♡ Xiao
-again, trying to find the last piece.
-a few minutes of hopeless trying, until you just screamed.
-he quickly appeared in the room, kneeling down to comfort you.
-"what h- what happened?"
-he doesn't know how to really react, but he tries his best to show this true feelings, worry and concern.
-after you explain everything to him, he's a bit confused.
-you're screaming because you can't find a piece of plastic-
-whatever, he helps you.
-he doesn't continue building the whole thing with you, but he does help you FIND it.
-he'll still be confused after helping you, but at least you weren't screaming anymore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
i like this one
okay but the idea was so fun
HOPE YOU LIKED IT‼️‼️
| @keeyisbored | @mariaace <3
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chilschuck · 2 days
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AAAA i love your blog!! could i pls request a post-canon scenario where chilchuck finally admits his feelings for reader now that they’re not co-workers anymore >_< (assuming reader joined the laios party during the story)
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAAAAH ANON i’m so happy you love my stuff!! i LOVEDDD writing this for you, and i have another request in my askbox that’s similar that i’m going to do as well! this was super fun, and i found myself enjoying this idea and coming up with things i could do with it!!! i hope you enjoy!!! <333
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— SHELTER: chilchuck x gn!reader.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw fluff!! takes place post-canon.
꒰ wc: ꒱ 1745 (got carried away again…)
✦ i’m scared to reread this, but right now I’m actually happy with it!! i hope you are too!! <333 i tried my best to keep spoilers to a minimum, and to make this fun to read!! also, the title comes from the song shelter by ray lamontagne, which i listened to while writing it. i hope you enjoy!!!
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With your party’s adventure finally over, you had decided to try and finally settle down as much as you could. With everyone finding their own new place in life, you did your best to find one too.
You couldn’t deny it had been rather lonely lately. Your own home was empty, a small place you had tried your best to make feel cozy. With your old party members living their own lives, you hoped you could live yours. But evidently, no matter how hard you tried, your mind always went back to him.
It was a bittersweet feeling; imagining him finally living healthily, working on helping others, and even maybe starting up that shop he talked about wanting. It wasn’t like you never saw him, but going on with every day life without him felt… mundane.
Chilchuck was working on himself, reconnecting with his family, and building the future he had hoped for. That alone helped you feel as much at peace as possible. Your feelings, to you, were not nearly as important as his own happiness. So here you waited, counting down the days you’d get to see him again. Maybe he’d be happy to see you too.
Little did you know, Chilchuck was devastatingly nervous. Buttoning up his shirt with shaky fingers, he tried his best to look as decent as he possibly could. It was the final thing he felt he needed to move on, and he wasn’t going to let himself ruin it. Not this, he told himself. There were some things he refused to let slip through his fingers, and one of them were his feelings he had developed for you.
Through it all, you had been by his side. An integral part of the party, you had built him up when he needed it most. Looking past all the mistakes, all the cynicism he liked to cloud himself with, you proved how much you simply cared. Not only for him, but for everyone. Chilchuck had fallen in love with you, and for once, he didn’t want to push those feelings down.
He had bought the flowers he knew you liked, tied with a sweet ribbon that he felt maybe was a bit too much. In fact, maybe all of this was a bit too much, but he hoped it’d work. Chilchuck even went to talk to Marcille about it all, a sign in his own mind that he was more smitten than he had been in years. Not to mention that he had, in fact, reconnected with his ex-wife, and had gained the closure he needed to take this big of a step. There was nothing holding him back now, and he could only hope the words of encouragement he was given would hold true.
Chilchuck had visited your home before, always noting just how comfortable he felt there. You were always happy to have guests lately, and he felt himself praying that this would be the case this time, too. Fist raised in front of your door, he took a deep breath before rapping it against the wood.
The knock came as a surprise, but not as surprising as the person who was behind it. Your eyes widened, his name leaving your lips in delight. “Chilchuck, hello!” It was slightly out of breath from the sheer excitement you had to try and suppress at seeing him here in front of you. Moving to the side, you motioned him in. “Do you… Want to come in?”
One hand behind his back still, trying his best to not snap the stems of the delicate flowers between his fingers, he nodded. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden visit.”
Shaking your head, you walked inside to prepare him something to drink. “Not at all! You know me… I could never say no to seeing you.”
It felt like another of Cupid’s arrows shot him through the chest. Maybe he shouldn’t look too deeply into your words, at least not yet. Following you inside, Chilchuck found himself trying his best to find anything to look at of interest. The plants on your shelves, the well loved books on the table, the occasional trinket you had decided you couldn’t live without… Everything that made it feel so much like you.
While you fiddled around in your small kitchen, Chilchuck cleared his throat. His mouth felt dry, and to try and slow down the thoughts rushing through his head, he spoke up again. “You know… You’ve done a great job with this place. I remember when you bought it.”
You couldn’t help but smile, thinking back fondly of how proud you were. Preparing you both glasses of wine, you turned your attention to him for a moment. “That means a lot, thank you. How have things been with the guild?”
Chilchuck hummed, eyes studying a particular painting on your wall. “Good… Pretty much the usual. Things are going pretty well. What about you, anything interesting since we last saw each other?”
Other than your constant war on your feelings for the half-foot, you’ve been trying new hobbies in order to distract yourself. As you turned to hand him the glass, you racked your brain for something to say. Giving him a sheepish smile, you shook your head. “Not particularly. Here, it’s one you like. Let’s go sit, yeah?”
He held your gaze for a moment, the flowers in his hand a constant reminder of what he was here for. Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to speak. “Yeah. But first, I have something to give you…”
Finally taking the hand from behind his back, he steeled himself as much as he could before holding them out to you. Quickly setting the glasses down, you let out a sound of surprise. Your hands reached out for them, as delicate as possible.
Chilchuck felt like his face was a bit too hot for something as simple as this, but it’s been such a long time since he’s had to really woo anyone. How the hell did he manage to do this all those years ago? Scratching the back of his head, he broke the silence between the two of you.
“They’re your favorites, right? I happened to see ‘em and thought you’d be happy.”
Although Chilchuck felt like he was doing a piss poor job at this, you felt like you were swooning all over again. You know how much he used actions as a love language, yet could you even call it that in this situation? Friends did nice things for each other, yet…
His brows were furrowed in determination, the tips of his ears rosy and suddenly you felt like maybe there was something there. Your gaze fell to the buds in your hands, freshly picked and done so with care. The smile that made its way on your features was unabashed.
“Yes, yes they’re my favorites… I can’t believe you remembered that. Let me go get something to put them in. Thank you so much, Chil.”
It was worth it just to see you smile like that. Even if he felt a little ridiculous at the action, it paid off when you held the vase proudly in your hands. “I’m going to put them on my desk. I love them…” You spoke softly, your own cheeks turning that shade of pink he loved so much. For a few moments, it became silent again, his brain scrambling for what to say next.
“You asked me about my plans after our adventure was over. There… was something I wasn’t honest about. And I want to be honest about it now.”
Chilchuck made sure to correctly word everything he needed to say. Taking time in between his sentences, his gaze returned to yours. There was something there that you had only hoped you’d seen in the past; a taste of desire.
“I want to be there for you. I know we’re no longer coworkers, so…” The words fell silent, you remaining patient through his pauses. Softly, you gave a gentle phrase of reassurance. “You’re already there for me, I know that, Chil—”
Raising a hand, he silenced you. Contemplation took over his features, that worry line between his brows that you always found endearing still making an appearance. You waited for him to elaborate.
“…As more than friends.”
Your heart stopped. Did you hear him correctly? Certainly you did, your voice having gotten stuck in your throat as you tried to wrap your head around the weight those words carried. Was he saying that, this whole time, you’ve been a goal all along? Hearing your name, you snapped your attention back to him.
“I want to be more honest with how I feel. I know how I used to be, and I’m working towards fixing it.” His deep brown eyes held a small glimmer of hope, of vulnerability. Chilchuck was trying, and he was trying for you.
Feeling as if the wind was knocked out of your lungs, you asked shakily, “You want…?”
He smiled, a small etch in his features. Huffing, Chilchuck fiddled with the collar of his shirt. “You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? I… Have feelings for you. If you don’t feel the same I get it, don’t—“
Before he could finish his sentence, you hurriedly set the flowers down before just about tackling him. The shock of hearing him say exactly what you’d been wishing for so long melted into a need to relay exactly how you felt. Chilchuck grunted at the impact, nearly toppling over.
“Of course I feel the same! You think I’d put up with your grumpy ass for this long if I didn’t?” You couldn’t help the teasing words that followed, pulling away from him to grin widely at him. “Can I kiss you?”
Your excitement caught him even more off guard, eyes widening at your question. “Sorry, that was probably a bit too much—“
Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Chilchuck tugged you to his lips in a desperate attempt to get you to just shut up and do it. You happily obliged, only pulling away to ask one more question. “How long?”
Chilchuck panted, confusion evident on his features. “What?”
“How long have you felt this way?” Your curiosity was getting the better of you, wondering just how long you two had managed to dance around each other like this. Chilchuck sighed, giving the only answer he could think to say:
“Too long.”
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— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3
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