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#i mean his hair and features look quite simple
nachojaehyun · 4 days
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head so good, she a honor roll
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pairing. idol wonu + new staff! fem! reader
summary. if wonwoo had to describe his new stylist in one word, it would be unpredictable. i mean, who would have known you were this good at sucking his soul?
warnings. [PLEASE READ] oral (m), light throat fucking, messy/sloppy head, the best head he had EVER received, wonu wears glasses, teasing, he almost cries, mentions of past sexual encounters, THICK dick wonu, no gag reflex queen reader — 18+ MINORS DNI!
note. jeon wonwoo, you genuinely deserve the best head in the universe. thank you for existing king.
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wonwoo felt like he was going to pass out.
the tides of pleasure were overwhelming him, making his eyes roll to the back of his head as he bit his lip to subdue his noises.
initially, he hadn’t thought much of you at all. when PD Na announced that a new staff member was joining the Seventeen crew, wonwoo could only clap and bow as you entered the room.
you were pretty— he’d give you that. your features were pleasant to the eye, and the thick framed glasses you adorned on your first day made him smile.
he was happy to know that he wasn’t the only one who was batshit blind in the room.
you were his stylist. of course you had taken him to get his color analysis done, taken him to multiple stores across Seoul, brought him piles of clothes for performances and off duty days.
you were his stylist. of course you had seen him almost naked, but you had never bat an eye at him, only instructing him to “wear his clothes faster.”
you were his stylist. of course you had first hand experience in the most embarrassing encounter in jeon wonwoo’s career— you had seen his dick rip out from a pair of very tight slacks. you still remained stoic, carefully asking him to take his pants off as you went to search for another pair. he was red in the face, cock half hard as he tightly fisted the curtain of the changing room in shame.
you were his stylist. so why on earth were you sucking his cock like your life depended on it?
wonwoo swears he didn’t know how it happened. you had texted him half an hour ago that you were going to drop off some clothes at his apartment before his fitting tomorrow.
it was supposed to be a simple exchange— you would give him the bag and you would leave.
but of course he had his phone silenced and didn’t see your notification.
of course he was sitting on the living room couch, fisting his length in his hand as he tried to relieve the tension in his muscles from dancing for 4 hours straight.
of course he forgot to lock the door to his apartment while he was blatantly moaning like a whore—
here you were, mouth dragging along his tip as you looked up at him through your long lashes, glassy eyes blinking innocently. the bag of clothes you had brought to him was long discarded, laying limp on the floor near his coffee table.
the grey contacts you had on make wonwoo shiver, whimpering as your tongue swirled around his tip.
“fuck baby, quit playin,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair as he watched you down his cock like a champ. wonwoo’s glasses were sitting at the edge of his nose, lenses fogging up.
his hand reached out to fist your hair in a makeshift ponytail, mouth falling into a near pornographic growl as he felt your hands fondle his balls.
his cock was unbelievably thick. your jaw was nearly falling slack. however, the salty taste of his precum was far too addicting for you to care about your own discomfort.
you hollowed your cheeks, trying to feel every ridge and every vein that his pretty cock had to offer. you pulled him out of your mouth soon after, placing kisses along his side as you suckled on his tip.
your free hand came to jerk off his base, spitting onto his leaky tip to use as lube, adding more pressure as his eyebrows scrunched.
“ ’m close— hah!” he whined, tears coating his lashes as you took him in with no warning.
unable to hold himself back, wonwoo harshly yanked your head back, rolling his hips into your mouth. you moaned at his rough treatment, sending vibrations that tightened the knot in his stomach.
“shit shit shit!” wonwoo grunted, feeling his dick weigh down on your tongue that continued to lick and torture him while he used your mouth as his personal fleshlight.
you could feel him twitch inside you.
to give him the final push over the edge, you lazily dragged your freshly manicured nails gently against his balls, cupping the two as he emptied inside your mouth.
wonwoo’s hips stuttered as his thighs shook, feeling ropes of his cum spurt into your open mouth.
he pulled out slightly, jerking off to give you the rest of him. you simply sat on the floor, wagging your tongue, catching every drop of his seed. as soon as you swallowed his release without any question, wonwoo felt himself getting hard again.
wordlessly, you wiped your mouth of the drool that had dribbled past your lips. pushing your weight from your thighs, you glanced at your wristwatch before smiling.
“see you at 8 tomorrow, wonwoo-ssi. don’t be late.”
with that, jeon wonwoo watched you wave him goodbye and walk out the door.
his mind was blown as he breathed out softly, still coming down from the best orgasm he ever had in his life.
sure, he had been blown before. but most girls were too scared to keep him in for more than a few minutes, complaining that their jaw hurt from his sheer length and thickness.
but you? dear god, you and your perfect self never complained, silently taking his cock in your mouth. you didn’t care about your own pleasure, mind consumed by the man wearing glasses in front of you, shock written all over his features.
“fucking hell, what is she doing to me?” wonwoo groaned, fisting his once again hardened member as he begin to circle his tip with a thumb.
he felt sensitive from his last high, closing his eyes as he imagined the scene all over again— wondering how many positions he could bend you over in.
if only he knew that you were in your car, fingers curling inside your folds as you moaned out his name. his cock had moulded your throat.
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click here for part 2
© nachojaehyun, 2024
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mingtinys · 23 days
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" you are my home "
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pairing : kwon soonyoung x gn!reader
"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"
warnings : none
word count : 0.5 k
a/n : probably my favorite from this series (:
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Don't get it twisted, you really do love having Soonyoung around so much. You love waking up to him every morning. Love seeing his toothbrush on your counter. Love spending your nights curled up with him on the couch watching comedies.
Nothing makes you happier than Soonyoung. But you're a little worried if he's happy.
Ever since you gifted him a key to your apartment for your second anniversary, he'd been living with you day in and day out. Filling your empty draws with his clothes and making his presence a permanent part of your life. He really only leaves for practices, schedules, and meetings with his members.
If someone from the outside were to describe your situation, they'd probably assume he'd officially moved in. Which again, you're overjoyed about. But your apartment is quite some distance from his parents and you've noticed he's been Facetimeing them more and more. You know he's close with them, so it confuses you how he hasn't gotten homesick yet.
Your worries boil over as you're cuddled up on the couch one night. "Soonyoung, can I ask you something?"
His eyes pop open and he stares up at you with an innocent expression. His head still rests in your lap, your fingers never ceasing their ministrations in his hair. He nods, "Is everything okay? You look upset."
"Everything's fine, I was actually wondering if everything is okay with you?"
He blinks up at you, not quite understanding the implication. "What do you mean?"
You chew at your lip. "We'll, it's just . . . I've noticed you've been calling your parents a lot as well as your members and I just want to you know I don't expect you to be here all the time."
"Do you not want me here?"
"No, no! It's not that at all, I love having you here! I just don't want you to be unhappy because you're with me instead of home. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to go back every now and then. Ya know?"
At that, Soonyoung sits up and faces you. A look of genuine confusion plaguing his features. "You are my home, why would I be unhappy here?"
You're a little taken aback by his answer, and it takes a moment for your heart to stop fluttering long enough to follow up. "Oh, I guess I just assumed you missed living in the dorms and being closer to your family."
He thinks for a moment. "I do. But I'd miss you too if I lived in the dorms still and then I'd really be unhappy. So it wouldn't really solve anything anyways if I left." It's so simple, the way he explains it. Yet so Soonyoung.
"Yeah, when you put it that way, I guess that makes sense." Your cheeks hurt from how wide you're smiling. You never thought it'd be possible to love someone this much.
"And just to be clear, you do want me here, right?"
The look on his face makes you giggle. "Yes, Soonyoung, I absolutely want you here."
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taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi
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bonny-kookoo · 2 months
Text
Jungkook
Green | Part 2
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"I don't jump around like that!"
Tags/Warnings: Bunny hybrid! Single dad!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, major fluff, crayons and frogs
Length: 2.5k Words
-> Masterlist
There is no taglist for this fic.
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“Is it bad timing?” You ask over the phone, whine Jungkook can be heard fighting a fierce battle against his little toddler, who’s clearly currently winning.
“No- Minji-“ he starts, before he addresses you. “Not- not No towards you, you never call during a bad time, I promise, I always want to talk to yo- Minji come on now!” He sighs, little girl having escaped his lap again- refusing to bend to her father’s only wish. “I promise I want to talk to you. Minji is just..”
“Having one of those days?” You giggle, and he smiles to himself.
“I guess so.” He admits. “She wants to go out and play, but I can’t get her into her outdoor clothes.” He sighs, before he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, you called because you wanted to chat and all I do is complain-“
“no, no no its fine, really.” You dismiss, truly not offended at all. “I uh.. I’ll let you battle your daughter for now. You can.. uhm, we can.. I don’t know. Talk later maybe.” You offer, and he looks at the phone a bit upset.
“I..” Well, there’s nothing there to apologize for. He’s not sorry he’s in his situation, neither is he sorry who he is or what his daughter is- it’s just an unfortunate situation you’re both in. “..yeah. let’s talk later.” He agrees, and you quietly say your goodbyes, making his heart hurt quite a bit.
Just because he’s not sorry, doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel guilty.
Minji seems to notice his shift in emotions quite quickly, quietly reaching for her outdoor pants again that he’s been trying to put on her these past twenty minutes or so- now obediently trying to put them on herself, though she does reach for his hands to get him to help her quite quickly. And even while dressing her, jungkook can’t help but think.
Will you ever be able to accompany him and his daughter out like that? Push the swing she sits on, hold her hand when he’s got his full? Maybe.
Maybe not.
All he knows is that once he’s at the playground, sitting on the bench alone again to watch the little toddler play in the sand with another prey hybrid kid, he feels as if he could be the one to throw a tantrum any second now.
Crying out, begging for the world to just let him have you.
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Minji is happily walking through the mall with her dad, holding his hand tightly as to not get lost, when suddenly, as Jungkook has stopped to look at an interesting discounted product in the shelf, he can feel her tug a little as she seems interested in something as well now. “Hm?” Jungkook wonders without taking his eyes off the value pack of baby wipes, before he looks down at his daughter, who’s staring somewhere, one hand prodding at her mouth absentmindedly. “What’re you looking at, hm?” He wonders, looking into the direction she does, when he spots it.
Or rather, you.
You’re wearing simple clothes, clearly not out to impress anyone but just to get what you need, but he can’t deny that you’re still appealing like this, even though you’re not even wearing makeup from what he can see. Your fluffy tail is slightly swaying from side to side as you put something into your shopping cart, unaware of being watched.
Jungkook is curious. It seems like you must’ve made an impression on his daughter- because she appears to recognize you, most likely by your striking features. And while she’s still clinging to him, her interest in you is obvious.
As if you can feel eyes on you, you turn a little to lock eyes with Jungkook- who waves a little, before urging Minji to do the same- but at the obvious sign of being spotted, she instead hides behind his legs, as if that would protect her from the danger of you- even though there is nothing to fear. You wave back, and Jungkook can see that you’re masking your disappointment over the little girl still clearly feeling some form of natural fear.
“Come, let’s go say hi.” Jungkook tells his daughter, who looks visibly troubled by that proposal, torn between natural fearful instincts, and her inner curiosity. Suddenly however, it seems that her decision has been made- as she makes a sound of protest, slipping around his legs to attempt to walk off, if it wasn’t for Jungkook grabbing the back of her wintercoat in the last second. But she’s eager, whining in complaint- and only now does he realize, you’ve walked off, probably thinking that would be for the best.
But not for Minji.
Remembering the dinner, Jungkook has an idea on how to maybe solve this clearly frustrating issue for his daughter- picking her up easily, to walk after you as you’re now standing in front of a large collection of different tubs of ice cream. “One might think you’re the prey trying to escape.” Jungkook jokes, and the second you look at him, clearly worried, he feels his heart jump.
Because his plan is working.
The fact that Minji is now in close contact with her father gives her an intense boost of confidence- hands reaching out for you now, curious eyes fixated on your actual face now, no longer avoiding eye contact. It makes you both a bit intimidated but also hopeful that maybe, this is a sign that with a bit more work at familiarizing yourself with her, there might be a chance.
“Hello.” You greet, careful not to move too quickly, though the little hybrid girl is clearly not that jumpy anymore, giggling happily when she notices your tail wag behind you, hitting the metal shopping cart- pointing to it to show her father, who’s smiling just as much about it. “I didn’t mean to run off- just.. Thought, I don’t know.” You stumble over your words a little, but Jungkook reassures you.
“It’s fine, really. I don’t wanna.. Stall your shopping trip either. Just.. We both wanted to just.. See you, I guess.” He says, while his daughter becomes a bit fidgety, wanting to get down again. “Minji baby if I put you down you gotta stay close though.” He gently scolds her, simply receiving a sound of protest.
You’ve noticed this as well- the fact that she pretty much doesn’t talk, whenever she’s aware that people are watching. She only ever babbles with her father, but that’s to be expected. Most prey hybrids are very withdrawn and shy, so its already surprising she appears to be very much okay with you so close already. And the second he puts her down, she’s already running off-
Though not very far, as she instead happily holds onto your tail, even laughing when you look at her with eyes wide open, completely surprised.
“I’m so sorry-” Jungkook starts, but you shake your head, smiling, and waving him off.
“No, no-” You reassure. “I’m.. Happy.” You nod, carefully looking at Minji who’s running her hands through the fur of your tail, shyly grinning up at you before she lifts your tail to hide herself, making both you and Jungkook laugh.
Maybe she’s just not that scared of predators?
But that suspicion is instantly debunked as two wolf hybrids casually walk past you both to get to pay for their things, making the little bunny hybrid instantly jump back to her father, clinging to the fabric of his pants.
So why is she alright with you?
“Would you.. Like to come over sometime?” You ask Jungkook, fidgeting with your hands a little nervously. “I.. You know. Just for some.. Casual chatting. Maybe cake? I can bake pretty well.” You rant, and Jungkook looks at Minji.
“You wanna visit Dad’s friend with him?” He asks her, and she looks at you, thinking- before she nods, reaching for something in Jungkook’s shopping basket, before she drops it in your cart- and on closer inspection, it’s a small pack of frog-themed hairclips. “Oh? You don’t want them anymore?” He wonders, but his daughter shakes her head.
“..for me?” You ask, and she nods, smiling before she runs behind her father again, curiously poking her head around his body as if to play hide and seek with you. “Well.. Not what I’d usually go for, but they might look nice. What do you think?” You ask Jungkook, who’s caught off guard for a second, having to look away a bit bashful, nodding.
“Y-yeah! I mean, anything would suit you, since you’re really pretty..” He rants, nervously licking his lips before his tongue plays with the piercings of his bottom lip, unsure how to act. This isn’t exactly what he expected- but it’s also a surprising turn of events that makes him happy.
“..thank you..” You respond, before you wave at the little girl, moving to do the same towards her father-
But Jungkook instead hugs you goodbye, unable to help himself in that moment.
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When you open the door to your apartment, Minji is very wary.
It’s to be expected- it's not just a new environment, but it also smells entirely of you- a predator hybrid, her natural enemy of sorts, at least in instinct. So it doesn’t shock him, and neither you, that she’s clinging to her father, stuffed animal in her arm while the other one clings to her father’s pantleg. But one look at you does seem to make her perk up- ears suddenly standing tall and turned towards you, shy smile on her lips while she grins into her dark green frog-plushy. “Hey. We’re a bit late-” Jungkook apologizes, but you just wave him off, letting them both inside with a smile.
“No bother, you texted me after all, so I was prepared.” You tell him, inviting them both into your living space that’s fairly small, but clearly yours. It’s vibrant, a bit chaotic, but overall a home, and not just a place you exist in. The little girl looks around already, most likely having her attention caught by all the decoration, pictures on the walls and colorful interior design you have. Jungkook also notices two awards hung up on the wall near the TV in the living room- and he’s reminded of your profession again, giving him an idea on how to coax his little girl out of her shell again.
“Hey, do you wanna know something cool?” Jungkook asks, squatting down in front of his daughter who looks at him, ears pointing towards him in curiosity. “Dad’s friend can draw really well. Maybe if you ask her nicely, she can show you?” He proposes, and at that, Minji looks over at you, who seems caught off guard- but you instantly walk to open a small room- an office that looks pretty chaotic, obviously the place where you work.
The shelves are full of books of all sizes and colors, but what seems to catch Minji’s attention the most, is a familiar bookcover- the same she has had for quite a while now, green frog family something she remembers very easily.
“Wait- you’re the author?” Jungkook wonders, holding one of the multiple little picture-books in his hands, the specific one Minji is looking at a new one she’s not seen before.
You nod. “I didn’t know she read that one.” You giggle. “This uh.. It's the new one that’ll be published next month. You can look at it if you like.” you tell her, well aware that she most likely can’t read it yet, but probably enjoys looking at the pictures anyways.
“Well, she doesn’t read, really..” jungkook chuckles, watching his daughter carefully stare you down while she picks up the book, something brewing in her brain with the way her ears move so distinctively. “she mostly looks at the pictures, and makes up her own story.” He explains.
“it trains her creativity.” You tell him, as you walk out the room with her hot on your heels, eyes still burning Luke little lasers on the back of your head. “which is important, you know? Many parents.. just leave their kids with the TV or something and call it a day.” You sigh, closing the door behind you before you watch Minji jump on your couch, eager to look at the little book.
“minji, don’t jump like that!” Jungkook scolds, and you can’t help but smile to yourself at the almost challenging glimmer in his daughter’s eyes, as if she’s quietly sending a message- one that’s so obvious, even you receive the signal clear as day.
“But Dad does it!” she suddenly chirps at you. “All’the time!” she mumbles into the backrest of the couch. Jungkook gasps at both the sheer audacity of his daughter airing out his bad habits like this- and the fact that she actually spoke directly towards you.
“Well, I’d love for you both to feel right at home.” You say gently. “So I don’t mind if you jump a little, bunny.” You tell her- and at the nickname she grows shy, hiding away to instead bury her head into her book.
Jungkook smiles at the interaction, and follows you into your kitchen to make some tea, enjoying the moment with you to its fullest. “…I really don’t jump around like that, by the way.” He suddenly tells you with such a serious tone that you can’t help but laugh at him. “Hey, I’m serious!”
“serious? Maybe, but not honest!” You giggle, making him smile as well, unable to really do anything else but. This whole situation feels like a dream really, with you at his side and his daughter warming up to you. He’s sure there will be hurdles, it won’t be a smooth ride just because right now things are looking up- but he also has found a new unique feeling.
A feeling that this might actually work.
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Back home, Jungkook has busied his daughter with her coloring book and favorite crayons, while he himself prepares some dinner in the kitchen. And all is calm and well, until his daughter calls out to him from her room, a whine in her tone signaling that she needs his help urgently.
“What’s up?” He wonders towards her, before she holds out two crayons she’s never used- one red, and one orange. “What’s with them?” He asks, while she pouts to herself, thinking seriously about something.
“which is dad’s friend?” she asks, and Jungkook laughs.
“I don’t know? Maybe both of them, hm?” He wonders, and she nods- suddenly determined as she runs back to her coloring book, occupying herself again while he smiles and shakes his head, directing his attention back to the pan on the stove.
It’s only later, when he cleans up the table and finishes putting away the dishes, that she stands in front of him again, this time with a neatly ripped out page of her coloring book. “Wanna put that on the fridge?” He asks, and his daughter nods.
The picture showing three frogs, two green and one thats colored in orange and red.
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zorosimpclub · 3 months
Text
bodyguard – Zoro NSFW
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characters: bodyguard!zoro roronoa x bratty fem!reader (he's your bodyguard)
hate sex, degrading, light choking, mild angst with happy ending | smut | 18+ only – MDNI
word count: 4.8k
She lifted her gaze from her phone, scowling at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Standing before her was her bodyguard – a tall, muscular man with strikingly handsome features, almost like he was sculpted by the gods. His cropped green hair framed his sharp eye, and his snug-fitting black shirt showcased his well-built physique, exuding an air of both strength and professionalism.
"Hey Mr. Roronoa." She quickly fake smiled – she hated having to do that especially when she was annoyed but she had a reputation to maintain. Sure, the man had been her personal bodyguard for the past year or so, but she even had to put up a facade around him. He pissed her off so much and it was clear that she pissed him off but he was great at his job and it didn’t hurt that he was very easy on her eyes.
The green haired man looked her up and down, his eye narrowed. His gaze met with her scowl, feeling an ever so tiny smirk form on his lips but he wiped it away in an instant before she could process it. Despite his distaste for spoilt celebrities, the generous paychecks kept him in the business.
“Miss.”
"Let’s go, I’m drained. I need to get home and decompress." She huffed and started walking.
“Hm.” He replied simply, he took note of her attitude but chose to ignore it.
His footsteps followed close to hers as she walked. When she stopped, he did too. When she took her first step, so did he. He was at her every move – something, despite all the time they spent together, she was still not used to.
"You don't have to be so hot on my heels." She quirked her eyebrows and shot him a distasteful look.
“Hm, your safety is my main priority, Miss.” His voice was monotone, eye fixed on every corner around her, carefully scanning their surroundings. He had no intention of slacking behind or walking ahead of her, and he made sure she followed too.
His muscles flexed underneath his black shirt, and his height was quite intimidating. When he looked at her she felt like she was nothing more than a mouse compared to his towering size.
"Still not much of a talker, are you?" She carried on walking with her sunglasses disguise, it was only a matter of time before someone recognised her and flooded her, asking for pictures or autographs.
“I only talk if it’s mandatory.”
He didn’t want to be here, he was only here for the insane amounts of money he was paid for such a simple escort. His eye kept on scanning, and his footsteps remained the same, no intention of slowing down or walking ahead of her.
"It's mandatory now." Her eyes rolled in a display of exasperation, but a fake smile plastered her face as her real personality peeked through for a second.
He was onto her and she knew it. He saw right through her most of the time and it pissed her off. To the outer world, she was cheery and bubbly, but in reality, she was just a cynical brat who found keeping the act up exhausting. Nevertheless, she wasn't going to let him see her real side. A very small smirk grew to his lips at her exasperation.
"Is that so?" His voice was still monotone, his steps matching hers.
His gaze drifted, landing on hers momentarily. It felt as if sparks had ignited between them, he shrugged it off quicker than he thought that… after all, he couldn’t even stand her.
"Yes, just fill the silence.”
"Alright, how many of your fans know you’re a brat?”
His eye focused on her body as they walked, his smirk still present. He couldn't deny it, she was extremely attractive and had curves in all the right places. Zoro wasn’t one to indulge in his desires but today, he let himself enjoy the view. Her eyes widened for a split second, caught off guard by the question but being the true professional she was, she composed herself and flashed him another fake smile,
"What do you mean Mr. Roronoa? I'm no brat, how mean.”
“Let’s not kid each other, I see right through your little act.” There was a glint in his eye, he wasn’t falling for the whole nice girl act she was trying to sell him, he was around her long enough to pick up on all the subtle eye rolls and expression shifts.
“So, how many know? Or do you like playing the good girl when everyone is around?” Her presence pissed him off, he could feel his jaw clench automatically but he had to remind himself to not let her get to him.
"Maybe you've got me all wrong? Anyway, we're nearly at my house so you can just leave once I'm safely indoors."
She continued fake smiling and walked ahead of him, smile dropping when her face was out of his line of sight. He noticed it. He saw everything. How annoying. It seems that he was going to be a handful.
Just as she turned into her road she felt someone grab her wrist and yank her forward. The sudden grab of her wrist startled her, making her let out a shriek of surprise.
She looked up in horror only to find a strange man smiling creepily at her, "Y/N, I'm your biggest fan! Please marry me! You're the only one for me!"
Zoro reacted quickly to the situation, not a moment passed before he grabbed the man’s fingers that were wrapped around her wrist.
“Let go.” He spoke, his voice cold and unforgiving.
"W-who are you? She is mine!" The stranger babbled with fear in his eyes.
Zoro’s eye narrowed, he wasn’t going to give into this man’s tantrums. Not one bit. He had an insane level of self-control, even when he was tempted to snap this man's wrist, he still didn’t. He didn’t let his temper get that far.
“You heard me, let her go before I’m forced to take more drastic measures.”
The man screamed slightly with wide eyes, scrambling away after looking at the look on his face, "Y-you're a monster!”
A small smirk rose to his lips at the man’s words. It was a pleasant sight to watch the stranger scurry away.
“I’ve been called worse things than that.”
His attention shifted to her once again, she seemed stunned by his actions. No matter how many times the man protected her, each time was just as stunning. He did everything so gracefully, her heart hammered in her chest.
"H-he ran away just from one look..."
“You’d be surprised of what I’m capable of.” His voice was still monotone, but this time she could feel the slight edge to his tone. He turned to her and lightly grabbed her wrist to examine it.
“Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you in any way?”
"N-no... I'm just... just a little shaken up." She couldn't even hide how she really felt, it was definitely a scary experience, she was so glad he was there to save her.
"Thanks for saving me. Again.”
He continued to stare at her with his piercing gaze, it felt like he could look straight into her soul.
Her sudden thanks caught him off guard, he almost forgot how normal it was for people to thank and praise him. He didn’t feel much from it any more, it was simply a job that he was good at.
“It’s my duty.” He replied with a sharp tone, his grip on her wrist loosening.
Pulling her keys from her pocket, she unlocked her house cautiously. She was still on edge and didn't feel comfortable being left alone.
"Hey...I know your job is just to escort me to and from places but... do you think you could come in? I feel a bit uneasy being alone." She was normally okay on her own but today felt different.
A slight flicker of his eye met hers as she unlocked her house, they remained locked on hers as she spoke. It took him a moment to respond.
“Under one condition.”
“Okay.”
"You show me your real personality, no fake smiles or playing the part bullshit."
She knew he wasn’t playing any games with her this time. She may have seemed to be a kind hearted famous woman, but he saw through the fake smiles and knew that it was all a facade.
"This is the real me, but okay." She fake smiled at him once again and let him inside her house, making her way to the kitchen. "Do you want some tea or coffee?”
"Coffee, no sugar or milk." He replied, his eye following her every movement as she went to the kitchen. She was such an easy person to read, even when she tried to hide who she really was.
In a way he found it amusing how she tried to keep up this little act despite giving her real personality away. Zoro wasn't one to play games but he already decided then and there that he was going to make her break character. He hated that nasally high voice that she used around her fans, or the way she flashed them fake smiles. He had enough.
She nodded and started to brew them both a cup of coffee. "So Mr. Roronoa, how was your weekend?”
"Good. So how long are you going to keep up this fake attitude?" His voice was still monotone, he wasn't going to show her any genuine emotions. She could have the privilege of seeing that side of him but she had to earn it. He took a seat at her dining table, still watching her every move like a hawk.
She was starting to get pissed off but she forced another smile, setting down the coffee mug in front of him, "Like I said, this is my real personality."
Her face was smiling but if he was observant, he could hear the undertones of frustration in her sweet voice.
“Hmm, I think I’m starting to get a better picture from this little interaction.”
She really thought she could put up an act and keep it going in front of him, but no matter how hard she tried, he saw clear through it. He took a sip of the coffee, he didn’t even thank her, he was just looking at her with a condescending smirk.
"What do you mean?" the smile still on her face, as she took a sip from her coffee.
“You’re not as innocent as you try to make yourself out to be.” His voice was still monotone and from in the corner of his eye he saw the slight shift in her body language. He was getting to her.
“Your little act has run dry, I see right through it. I can tell that behind this innocent facade is a brat. Am I wrong?”
She clenched her jaw slightly, unclenching it quickly after reminding herself that she had to remain calm, "You're wrong.”
His smirk became more prominent at her answer, he was enjoying this a little too much. Her attempt to remain innocent was clearly no match for him.
“Oh is that so? Let's do an experiment then.”
"Go ahead." Irritation coursed through her veins as he skilfully prodded at her patience, in short, he knew how to push her buttons.
He looked at her, eye narrowing in thought. His gaze remained for what felt like a moment too long for her, but she didn't look away.
“I’ll do something and you will just have to keep your cool. If you fail, I will get a better idea of how you really react under stressful situations. Does that sound good?”
"Fine." She was determined to keep up her cheerful, innocent persona at all costs.
The corners of Zoro's muscles flexed slightly. His lips twisted into an amused smile as he watched her face. He set his coffee down and tilted his head slightly.
"I'm not going to sugarcoat anything I say and I will be as brutally blunt as possible. If you can't handle what I say then please tell me so I can stop, Miss."
"I already said fine didn't I?" She grinned through gritted teeth.
He raised an eyebrow at her words, she was trying her best to suppress her frustration, but it was so obvious that she was pissed off. He remained firm and unmoved, it seemed like he had complete control of himself, and this made her even more frustrated.
“Alright then, first off, you're not that attractive as everyone makes you out to be. I don’t see what all the hype is about.”
She felt herself get ticked off but wasn't going to let him win this and see her ugly side. "Okay.”
He smirked slightly, knowing that this was getting to her. She was struggling not to snap, holding her tongue as best as she could.
"You're also not the greatest singer either, your songs sound like they were written by a rat on a keyboard. And what's with your fake laughs when people make jokes? What's with the fake cheering and smiling when someone compliments you? You're just an entitled brat." He added on.
She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from yelling at him, he was bruising her ego and it was obvious. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her real side.
He noticed her biting her lip, as the corners of his eyebrows raised upwards, and he smirked slightly. He was definitely getting under her skin, she was barely keeping it together. He didn't know how much longer she could keep it up.
"I could just tell by looking at you that you're spoiled, even your voice sounds so whiney and you speak in a condescending manner. The way you dress is also very unappealing, my Grandma dresses better than you."
That was the breaking point. She snapped, a surge of anger propelling her into action. With determined long strides, she closed the distance between them and sharply commanded, "Shut the hell up.”
Now he had her, he saw the moment her facade completely shattered and she finally lost her cool.
Zoro smirked and tilted his head slightly as if to mock her but he was honestly rather interested in her reaction. She was much more of a brat then he had originally thought.
Her sharp commands were met with his unmoving stare, showing no signs of fear or intimidation.
"What? Struck a nerve, Miss?"
She gripped his tight shirt and pulled him down to her face, "I said. Shut. The. Hell. Up.”
There was a moment of resistance when she grabbed his shirt, he refused to budge for a moment until she tugged at it sharply. His eye looked down at her angrily, the corners of his lips curled up into a sadistic smile. His stare intensified when she spoke. He stayed like this for a moment before he spoke sharply, his voice now just as cold.
"Make me."
She doesn't know what came over her, perhaps it was the intensity of the anger and attraction she felt towards him, but she pulled him in closer and crashed her lips harshly on his. Her sudden actions took him by surprise, he didn't think she would be this rash, but it wasn't unwanted, at least from him. When she crashed her lips against his, it wasn't soft and passionate, this kiss held a lot of force that made him feel like she wanted to scream at him.
It wasn't bad though, in fact, it was electric and Zoro took control quickly by wrapping his arms around her waist. His lips locked with hers, their tongues fighting for dominance in an aggressive but satisfying way.
“Hmmm, I guess you like it rough." he teased as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer.
“Shut up and kiss me idiot.” She snapped and blushed a little as she felt his touch on her.
Zoro chuckled softly against her lips before complying, deepening their kiss once more. His hands roamed up her back, entwining in her hair as he took control of the passionate exchange.
He pulled away and gripped her hair softly, “Looks like you’re not he good girl your fans think you are.”
She gasped and furrowed her brows to snap a response at him but he moved his fingers teasingly on her inner thigh. “S-shut up…”
Zoro hummed softly in response, kissing her neck. He smirked to himself as he felt her body tremble with anticipation, "You're mine to order around now."
“Y-you wish!” She gripped his wrist and panted in need.
Laughing softly, Zoro leaned down to capture her lips once more, his free hand sliding down her thigh, teasingly close but not quite touching her clit. He continued their heated kiss, his tongue dancing with hers.
“I’m going to ruin you, understand? A brat like you, who pretends to be an angel to the outside world, needs to be punished.”
“Fuck you…” She spat out but she loved how he made her feel, “P-please…”
"Please what?" He asked, leaning in closer to her ear as he traced another path up her thigh with his fingertip. "Tell me what you want, brat.”
“Shut up and respect me!” She wouldn’t admit but she loved him treating her like a slut, degrading her whilst the rest of the world worshipped the ground she walked on.
“You want me to respect you? You think a fucking brat like you deserves my respect?" Zoro asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're a fucking mess, look at you craving the disrespect."
She felt her body heat up at his words, he was right, she wanted to be disrespected by him. “Y-you’re wrong!”
"Am I?" He smirked, his finger finally reaching her core, teasingly rubbing circles around her swollen, sensitive nub. "You're not fooling anyone, sweetheart. You're mine to break and make."
She bit back a moan and glared at him as he toyed with her body, it felt so good but she would never give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “You wish!”
“I don’t wish, I know that you are.” His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her body against his as he continued to tease her with his fingers. “Look at you, you’re so weak and pathetic, you love being a slut don’t you?.”
“Shut up and fuck me right now!” She moaned against his chest as he toyed skilfully with her clit.
"Is that an order or a plea?" He asked, chuckling softly into her ear before sliding his fingers inside her, finally giving her the release she'd been craving. "Dirty little whore."
“R-Roronoa!” She arched her back and cried out as she edged towards her climax.
"Zoro." He corrected her sternly, feeling her body shudder underneath him. "Cum for me." His fingers continued to work their magic, pushing her over the edge once more with his cock throbbing in response to her sweet moans.
“Nnnn…” She writhed around in his grip as he overstimulated her with his fingers.
He pulled his fingers out of her, licking them clean without breaking eye contact. “Get on your fucking knees slut. It’s time that I put you in your place.”
She slid down slowly, her eyes still fixated on his lustful ones. She hated him, he hated her yet the feeling that was brewing between right this instant was so foreign.
“Unzip me and suck my dick.” He commanded roughly, coldness in his tone.
Her hands reached for his zipper and pulled it down, breath shaky from the pleasure she felt before. Without missing a beat, she gripped his cock and pumped it slowly before taking it in her mouth.
“Yes, that's it." He groaned, his hands finding their way to her hair. "Suck it like the filthy brat you are."
She took him deeper in her mouth, slobbering on him. It seemed that the pace was too slow for him though, so he ended up gripping her hair tighter and fucking her mouth roughly.
"Fuck!" He growled, his hips bucking forward as he lost control. His cock throbbed in her mouth, her warmth and wetness driving him wild.
She felt tears well up in her eyes, as he slapped her cheek lightly – it felt so good. She wanted more and more. She was slowly becoming addicted to him.
Zoro watched her closely, the mix of pleasure and pain etched on her face. "That's it." he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You like it rough, don't you?" He pulled her off his cock, leaving her gasping for air. "Stand up."
She complied immediately and got up without a word, her once bratty mouth quiet and anticipating.
"Good girl." he praised, grabbing her hair again. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock at her tight entrance. "You're going to take every inch of me, aren't you?"
“S-shut up…” although she was a desperate, sloppy mess for him, she felt part of her ego and pride peak through. She wouldn’t back down without a fight.
“You’ve already lost." he spat angrily, slamming into her in one swift motion. Her gasp turned into a moan as he filled her up, claiming her body as his own. He started thrusting, his movements rough and demanding, her body moving with him. "Now take what you've been begging for, I'll fuck you till you're nothing but a sobbing mess."
She leaned her head against his chest as he fucked her standing up. He loved watching all of her expressions as he had his way with her, all these faces that he hadn’t seen before. But that wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Zoro pulled out of her, gripped her wrist and pulled her to her window only to push her against it. He wanted the whole world to see her getting fucked by him.
She gasped when she felt her breasts come into contact with the cool window, “W-what are you doing?!”
"I'm teaching you a lesson," he growled, slamming back into her. "You're a dirty little whore, and the world needs to know it. Let them watch as I pound into your needy cunt.”
She didn’t even care at the thought of anyone seeing her at this point, she was focused on the intense pleasure she was feeling as he skilfully thrusted into her, hitting the right spot over and over again.
His eye darkened with lust as he watched her face twist in pleasure. He loved seeing her like this, so open and vulnerable. Zoro slammed into her harder, grunting with the force of his thrusts. "That's it, brat. Take it all."
“Please… please… more!”
“More?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. "You want more?" He pulled out of her and quickly slid back in, his cock rubbing against her G-spot.
"How about this?" he growled, starting to pound into her harder than ever, making sure to hit that very spot over and over again.
She screamed in pleasure, not caring who heard and threw her head back against his chest, “Y-Yes! Right there!”
His heart pounded in his chest, matching the rhythm of their bodies. The sound of her screams, her pleas, fueled him further. He gripped her hips tighter, his other hand reaching up to hold onto her neck, marking her as his.
She felt her orgasm near and started fucking herself onto his cock, desperate for release.
He groaned at the feel of her tightening around him. The pleasure was too much, it was almost unbearable. "Cum for me." he growled, thrusting deeper into her. "Cum on my cock, brat. Let the world know how desperate you are!"
She came undone and creamed around his cock as she let out a string of moans, “Zoro!”
Her screams echoed in his ears, driving him to the edge. He was close too, he could feel it – the way she gripped around his cock was too much for him. “Where do you want my cum, you pathetic whore?”
“I-Inside! Please!” She couldn’t think straight, her tongue out of her mouth as she panted.
"Look at you being such a dirty slut, I bet your fans have no idea how much of a cum dump you are huh?" He leaned down and growled into her ear, his thrusts growing more erratic as he reached his climax. With one final push, he filled her womb with his hot seed, moaning her name. "Fuck!”
She cried out, a third orgasm ripping through her, “Aah!”
He pulled out of her, his cock glistening with her juices. "You're such a mess." he smirked and watched her fall to the ground
She panted, steadying herself on the floor. The pleasure was just too much for her.
“Go back to your fans and tell them what a good time you had with your bodyguard." he said, smirking down at her. He couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. "And don't forget to thank me for the ride."
“Shut up…”
"Tsk, tsk.” he chided, stepping over her and reaching for his clothes. "You're such a spoiled brat even when you're being used like this."
She blinked her tears back and shot him a pained look, showing him that she’s no longer playing the game they were playing. She felt vulnerable and all she wanted right now was to be held and cared for.
His gaze softened, maybe he had pushed it too far. Zoro crouched down to pick her up bridal style and carried her to what he assumed was the shower. “Are you okay?”
She nodded weakly and felt the warm water wash away signs of their previous activity along with her tears. He leaned down to grab the shower gel and lathered it on her body. Her heart fluttered at his gentle touch and surprisingly caring nature, “Thank you…”
"Just doing my duty." he replied, his voice still rough around the edges.
He cleaned her with gentle motions, his hands lingering a little too long in some places. He noticed she didn't object, so he continued, his mind wandering, lost in thought. She grabbed the shower gel and did the same for him, lathering and cleansing all over his body. There was an unspoken feeling growing between them, which both of them had noticed.
“Hmm?" he asked, breaking out of his trance. Eye flickering to hers, smiling softly at her. There was something there, something more than just lust or anger. He couldn't quite place it, but he liked it.
She smiled softly up at him, letting the warm water hit their skin, “I didn’t say anything.”
“I know." he said, leaning against the tiled wall. "But there's something about you that I can't seem to resist. Even after knowing how much of a brat you are." He reached out, running his hand through her hair, pulling her closer.
She continued smiling at him, “What? Don’t tell me my bodyguard has fallen for me?”
Zoro couldn't help the full blown smile that spread across his face. "Maybe just a little bit." He reached around her, slipping his arm around her waist, holding her close.
"But I'm not just your bodyguard, am I?"
“Are you not?”
His heart skipped a beat at her question. "No, I'm not." He leaned in closer, their bodies pressed against each other.
Her heart rate picked up as she stared lovingly into his eye, “Is that so?”
He could feel the desire coursing through him, making it difficult to think of anything else but her. "I think you can feel it too." he whispered, his lips brushing against hers lightly.
She pressed a gentle kiss against his lips, “I can.”
The warmth of her lips against his sent shivers down his spine as he deepened the kiss. The kiss was different this time, it was gentle and sweet – it felt comforting and soft.
She pulled away and hugged him close, “I want you by my side…more than just a bodyguard.”
“I already am, Miss.”
phew! hope you guys liked this and as always, please let me know your thoughts / if you have and fic requests! (also I'm working on part 2 for my previous fic so keep an eye out for that <3)
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lazyjellyfish300 · 4 months
Text
Blurred Lines❤️‍🩹
Miguel O'Hara x Fem reader
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Synopsis: you and Miguel have a casual arrangement of just sex. You reluctantly agree in hopes that you can get him to fall for you. Unfortunately, it's not that simple. Word count 5.3k
Part 2
TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT(it's a little on the more mild side imo but P IN V, ORAL (F AND M RECEIVING), FINGERING), ANGST, CASUAL RELATIONSHIP, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, COLDER MEAN MIGUEL, SAD, LIGHT DV(HE PUNCHES A WALL AFTER YOU SLAP AND SHOVE HIM) IF ANYTHING LIKE THAT IS QUITE DIFFICULT FOR YOU, I'D RECOMMENDED NOT READING ❤️
SPANISH SPEAKERS, feel free to correct me. I'm SO sorry if I fucked it up. I hope y'all enjoy some more angsty Miguel. 🖤 This one is a longer one, sorry!
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You're a new lab tech at Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York and it's your first day. Bright eyed and bushy-tailed you, fresh out of college and not aware of what's about to hit you.
Until he walks by the pillar you're leaning against during your debriefing by Jessica Drew.
"Who's he?" you kind of softly squeak out as you watch the gorgeous man walk by. He's exceptionally tall and handsome, his chiseled features in a stoic expression, crimson eyes scanning his surroundings as he passes. He takes notice of you for a brief moment, then continues on. You shamelessly hold him in your gaze as he disappears down a dark corridor.
Jess follows where your eyes are looking and smirks. "That's Miguel O'Hara. He's my boss, actually. You won't have to worry about him except when you do blood samples. He mainly deals with the Spiders. If he gives you trouble, don't take it personally, it's just how he is." Jess leans in a little closer, speaking woman to woman now.
"Just between you and me, girl. You're gonna wanna stay away from him. Everyone here wants him. But he's emotionally unavailable. You seem like a nice girl. Don't waste your time. Trust me, I've seen it."
You nod slowly, somewhat discouraged by that. But, against your better judgement, you start coming to work in your cutest, sluttiest outfits that you can put together without breaking the lab safety rules. Thigh high boots, tight little skirts that hit you mid thigh, off the shoulder knit tops that halt just below the round tops of your cleavage, and skin tight dresses that hug you in all the right places.
Every week when you deliver the lab reports to Miguel, you have a different outfit on for him, hair and makeup done, flashing the most stunning smiles you can muster at him, staring directly into his eyes when he speaks, enthusiastically bobbing your head.
Week after week, Miguel seems to keep the same stoic disposition with you, not cracking under the flirtatious pressure you're applying to him with your overzealous attention and special outfits. Just how many layers to this guy is there? You wonder.
One day, about a month later since you started, Miguel is in the middle of a rant about the lab department and their tardiness on sample readings as of late, expecting you take his feedback to your supervisor when, you slowly bring your pen to your mouth, biting the cap ever so lightly while staring at Miguel's lips, not even hiding the fact that you've stopped paying attention and are focusing on more... intriguing matters.
Miguel's flow of speech stalls for a minute as you bring the pen to your mouth. He snaps out of it and continues on, then pauses again. He looks away from you and his jaw tenses. "Mierda(shit)..." he mutters.
Your face gets a little warm, but you smile, keeping the pen in your teeth. It would seem that your efforts this time were paying off.
"I forgot where I was going with that..." Miguel says, still turned away from you. "Never mind, you can leave now," he says cooly.
Your eyebrows raise a little bit, surprised he's just dismissing you like that, but you don't argue. You turn on your heel and walk away, heels clunking on the floor. Meanwhile, Miguel grabs the edge of his desk, knuckles turning white.
---
Next week, you head for Miguel's office again, carrying the stack of weekly reports. You're wearing a new long sleeved black dress under your lab coat, channeling your inner Morticia Addams. You're feeling a little more excited this time, wondering if he'll act as flustered as he did last week when you teased him with your pen in your mouth.
You approach Miguel, his back turned to you as he stares at several yellow-orange surveillance holograms at his desk. He recognizes the sound of your heels on the floor but doesn't turn around.
"Happy Friday, got your reports right here!" You announce in a whimsical tone.
Miguel sighs and turns his head, looking down. He then turns to you, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he takes the stack of papers in his hand, scanning the top page. After a moment of silence, he moves his head, motioning to a hallway that leads to the archive room.
"Come with me," he says nonchalantly, already walking towards the hallway. You raise an eyebrow but follow after him, stuffing your hands in your lab pockets.
Once you're down the hall, you enter a room which is a maze of filing cabinets, most of them even towering over Miguel, who's 6'9. Miguel takes a few sharp turns, leading you deeper into the maze then finally stops at the one he's looking for. He throws the stack of papers in the cabinet with a slam and an echo off the empty walls and looks at you, crossing his arms and leaning back against the cabinet.
"You look beautiful today," he says in a soft voice.
You freeze, alarmed by his casual demeanor he seemed to pull out of nowhere.
"Um, thank you..." you feel your cheeks get hot and your stomach squirm with excitement and fluster. You only daydreamed of this happening, your gorgeous work crush finally noticing AND complimenting you in the same day.
"Is that a new dress?" His crimson eyes are roaming you up and down as he approaches you, caging you in against a tall cabinet behind you.
Your stomach leaps up to your throat, your breasts heaving.
"Yeah..."
Miguel's eyelids flutter a little bit at your breasts moving against the fabric of your dress as you became more flustered.
"I like it," he whispers.
Then, he's pinned you against the filing cabinet, attacking your mouth with his lips, his hands flying to both sides of your throat, his thumbs smoothing into your cheeks, his hips pressed against you.
"Ugnhh..." your hands fly to his hair on their own accord, your fingers getting lost in his chocolate strands. You kiss him with everything you can, sucking and biting his lip. He's a damn good kisser. Each stroke of his lips is sending you into orbit as you feel growing warmth in your core.
"Keep walking in my office dressed so slutty every week, hmm? Thinking I wouldn't notice?" He groans into your mouth. He grabs your chin in his fingers, forcing your head back. He leans in and begins kissing your neck, relishing the way you begin to shiver, making soft pretty moans for him. He makes his way up your neck, pausing at your ear, dragging your bottom lip down with his thumb.
"Wrap your legs around me," he whispers.
You jump into his arms, winding your thighs tightly around his waist, seizing him as tight as you can, even adding a little roll of your hips, hungry for friction.
Miguel grunts at your eagerness and uses the cabinet behind you to pin you up against, still keeping you wrapped around him. He uses one hand to guide your dress back up and over your thighs, groaning when he realizes you went commando today. He gives you his fingers, causing sharp, high pitched moans to escape you.
"Monta mis dedos, hermosa."
(Ride my fingers, beautiful)
-----
Now, when you eventually did your walk of shame back to the lab, your first time having sex with Miguel seemed like a blur, but in those heated moments during that encounter, they seemed endless and mind-numbing. The pleasure was damn near overwhelming.
No man's fingers sent you into orgasm as many times as his did. No man's tongue ever explored and lapped you up as intimately and expertly as his did.
And no man's cock was as fucking addictive and dangerous as his was.
You were now his little slut and you loved it.
Even though you didn't really confide in any of your co-workers, people around HQ seemed to put two and two together that you were the one to be envied, the new woman occupying Miguel's bed and attention.
After the second time you guys hooked up, you laid in his bed at HQ, the Queen sized bed seeming almost not big enough to hold his enormous size as he pounded you relentlessly into it. Hours passed until you both were covered in sweat, fully coated in each other's slick, the comforter and top sheet cast to the side, since the heat you generated during the rounds you two shared was more than enough to keep you warm.
You panted, staring at his ceiling, absolutely hammered with satisfaction.
He sat up after a few moments, rubbing the back of his neck. He got up and went into his bathroom. You heard the sounds of him relieving himself and then a squeak from a faucet as his shower turned on.
You come out of your daze after a moment, confused. You feel a slight tug of worry as you see him turn on the shower immediately, occupying himself right after you fucked and can't help but feel a rush of insecurity in what you thought was a pleasurable experience for the both of you.
He just seemed to need to rinse off as the water shuts off only after a couple minutes. He walks out with a towel around his waist, water dripping from his body, creating little pools on his tile floor, digging in his dresser drawers for some underwear and clean clothes.
"I have a meeting in about a half hour. You're welcome to rest for a bit longer, though. I trust you to lock my door on your way out?"
You blink rapidly, taken aback by his shortness with you. But, you realize you don't really have a good reason to be upset right now. You two certainly aren't dating. You haven't even had a long, meaningful conversation or got to know the guy yet. Just one, now two, steamy hookups at work and that's it.
You nod with a tight lipped smile, trying to hide your disappointment. Miguel nods back in acknowledgement and goes back to drying himself off, resting a leg on an armchair in the corner, still butt naked.
You just watch him, captivated by his beauty. You realize that you're not going to get clarity on what this is between you two unless you speak now.
"Miguel....?"
His name sounds innocent in the way it leaves your lips, despite the filth they were committing on his genitals just an hour earlier.
He looks at you, not pausing his task.
"Yes?"
You hesitate, scared of his reaction to your next question.
"Um, what are we, exactly? Or, rather, I guess, what is this we're doing?" You gesture between yourself and him.
He finally stops and looks at you, his brow furrows.
Your heart drops, realizing you might have spoke too soon.
But his brow softens, just a little bit. It was only a natural question to ask, after all. What kind of ass would he be for being upset at you for asking? But unfortunately, at this time, what he has to offer is probably not what you're hoping for.
"Well...," he says quietly, thinking deeply. "I think we definitely have strong physical chemistry together. I'd like to have more of these experiences with you, if you're up for it."
You nod, slightly encouraged by the news but wanting more.
"And so...are we exclusively seeing each other?"
Miguel doesn't answer right away, but then he says firmly after a beat, "I don't date."
You feel a knot in your stomach. Not what you wanted to hear, for sure.
"But, I do think us limiting or having no other sexual partners while we're seeing one another is a sensible thing to do," he says. "Out of respect for you and I, either one of us should let the other know if we begin seeing someone else, or if we wish to terminate the relationship."
You sit, slowly processing his words, pulling the top sheet over your legs as the heat from your encounter has now worn off.
"So, you'd like to have just a physical relationship with me? Like friends with benefits?"
Miguel nods slowly. "Yeah, you could call it that, I suppose."
Your mind races, you already know this is a horrible idea but here you are contemplating it anyway.
"Just sex, but we're only fucking each other, and either one of us can end the relationship at any time? No feelings involved?"
Miguel gives you a little grin. "Sounds good to me. But, I do want to heavily emphasize the last part. No feelings involved, please. If you don't think you'll be able to do this, there's no shame in letting me know."
You swallow. "Any, um...reason why you're so against dating or having any sort of emotional commitment?"
Miguel blinks. "I'd rather not get deep into that, but, I suppose to make myself more understood: I avoid emotional affairs, mainly due to my work and because of the lifestyle I lead. I have tremendous responsibilities and I can't devote time to nurture a relationship like a normal person would. Does that answer your question?"
You fiddle with a strand of your hair. "Yeah...that makes more sense."
You look off, still deep in thought. You're at the ledge, almost about to jump, despite the obvious pain that would inevitably become yours when you hit the water, the sharp rocks of disappointment and heartache would become your bed.
"I would like to be friends with benefits with you, on one condition," you say.
"What's that?" a small smirk appears on Miguel's face, a little excited now at your willingness to give him your body on a regular basis.
"We spend at least 30 minutes after the deed holding each other, just as part of normal aftercare."
Miguel raises his eyebrows, a quizzical look on his face. He's been out of the dating game for so long. He had to relearn how to be soft and let that side of him through again, and it didn't come naturally. But it sure doesn't mean that he's changing his mind on wanting to be something more than fuck buddies, he still wanted to stay away from the unpredictable tides of human emotions at all costs.
"Very well, fair. I don't mind a little cuddle afterwards, for your sake. If that's all you need?" He asks.
You nod silently, hoping your modest request isn't turning him off.
He walks over to you, getting back on the bed, putting an arm behind his head while you scoot closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder, sighing in content. He wraps his free hand around your shoulder, closing his eyes, allowing the time to pass in silence.
The silence is a little uncomfortable, but at least he's holding you. After some time, Miguel gives your shoulder a squeeze and sits up. "Perdóname(forgive me), I really do need to get going now. Take your time, though you know. And lock the door behind you on your way out please."
"When would you like to do this again?" You ask.
"Tomorrow, at 11 am," he answers. He looks at you with a small side smile. "I'll clear your schedule with your supervisor. Don't worry about it."
You shoot a smile his way, excited about playing hooky tomorrow to fuck Miguel instead. And the best part was he was in on it too. Even if you couldn't be his girlfriend, this was the next best thing, or so you told yourself.
-----
The next day at 11 am, your third physical encounter is well underway as you're on your knees under Miguel's desk, sucking him off during one of his virtual meetings. Peter B is rattling off, throwing in some painful dad jokes which makes Miguel roll his eyes. You stuff more of him in the back of your throat, forcing his attention back you.
"Carajo (fuck)....keep doing that," he mutters to you. You moan in response, your mouth full of him, throwing everything you can into each flick of your tongue.
Miguel groans and grabs a fistful of your hair. "So fuckin pretty," he coos quietly to you.
"What's that, Miguel?" Peter asks through the meeting speakers.
"Shut the FUCK up Peter," Miguel hisses back, moving your head with his hand.
"Okay, so anyway, like I was saying...." Peter continues.
Miguel shuts off the meeting with a short grunt.
-----
The 4th time, you find yourself fogging the windows in his car as you straddle him, moving your hips in toe-curling circles, edging him closer to combustion in his backseat.
The 5th time, your legs are on his shoulders in his office again. The 6th time, he's between your legs at your apartment, gently coaxing the soul out of your body with his torturous tongue. You glance down at him and he's looking up at you, intoxicated with the taste of everything you're excreting onto his perfect face.
You melt at the sight and realize when you're shaking afterwards that your worst fear is becoming a reality. Your fucking is turning into lovemaking, expressions of lust giving way to affection, the passion molding into adoration.
You clinged to the breadcrumbs he offered you, your delusion fueling the belief that over time, they could sustain you. Any praise he offered you when he was rutting into you, you collected in the empty pockets lining your heart, not knowing you were building your own Roman Empire. The naive architect over your own demise. His crimson eyes your downfall.
The part of your brain you thought you could shut off while you let your body do the talking was in fact alive. Somewhere along the line, one of the hundred deadly thrusts of his hips was responsible for flicking the switch.
Letting him in was like your own version of a Trojan Horse. His troubled soul and enchanting voice pulled and tugged at your trustful and altruistic nature until he lowered your guard. Soon, he was laying siege and attacking the city of your heart, carelessly laying waste to the very walls that welcomed him...not caring that you were drowning in your own blood you shed at his expense, his own confession of love for you the only antidote for your suffering, which you only hoped to God existed, possibly harboured somewhere in the far down recesses of his mind that he didn't dare open.
The 7th time, you're having sex in your bed again. He's on top of you this time. And you're not sure if it's the delicious way he's groaning when you say his name, the tender way he's cupping your face and not letting you look anywhere else but him as he rocks his full length into you, but it causes you to blurt out,
"I love you, Miguel."
He pants, and stops moving, hanging his head with his eyes shut. He holds the position for a moment then climbs off of you, rubbing his face and temples as he sits on the edge of the bed. You sit up too, wishing you could reel your words back into your head as quickly as you said them.
"I'm sorry...," you bite your lip. "Please don't stop..."
After a beat, he stands up and begins to look for his clothes. "It's fine." He says simply.
You look at him in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?"
"I made it very clear from the beginning. I don't do feelings. I don't do relationships. This is why I steer clear of this bullshit all together, because it always ends up being my fault!" He snarled, stuffing his clothes into his hands and hastily throwing on his shirt.
Your jaw falls open, it was though he did a 180. In place of who you thought could be a caring and attentive man who made you feel beautiful and spent hours learning your body and pleasuring you in ways you never thought possible, it was Mr. Hyde to his Dr. Jekyll, callous, cruel, and indifferent to your feelings. The version of him who only cared about getting off, not minding that he willingly went down this road with you, and only after causing you to fall did he take a turn, leaving you stranded.
He sighs deeply. "Look, I think we should take a break. It's not over, we can maybe resume at a later time. But it's clear you need space, and I need space too." He puts his pants back on. "I just need you to understand that no matter what, I'm not going to allow you, or myself make this into anything more than what we agreed upon in the beginning: just sex, that's it."
Tears begin to fall down your face, your heart beginning to ache in your chest from the sword he just planted in it.
"Why don't you let anyone in? Is it that crazy that maybe a girl like me actually gives a shit about you for once and isn't out for your money or your looks or to break your heart?!" you spit your words at him, coated in anguish.
He's facing away from you, fully dressed now, and deep down it kills him to see you like this, but he's too prideful and too much of a fucking coward to let you see that it does.
"I'm leaving..." he says quietly. "I came here to fuck and enjoy my time with you, not have my head examined. I'll see you around." He leaves your room, walking to your front door.
Rage is seething out of your eardrums. You scream after him,"DON'T BOTHER! LOSE MY FUCKING NUMBER!!! Fucking asshole..."
You hear a click as your front door closes and you collapse into a fray of heartbreak on your bed, your tears driving you to sleep.
--------
The next few weeks are torture as you do everything you can to forget him. Pretend as though nothing happened. Pretend as though he never ravaged your body like he did. Pretend like he never broke you apart with his tongue. Pretend like he didn't snatch your heart from your chest. Pretend like he didn't cause you to fall in love with him only for him to leave you bleeding on the ground.
You start forcing one of the other lab techs to take the weekly reports to him as you don't even want to see his face. You're successful at avoiding him for the most part, until you catch him out of the corner of your eye talking to a Spider-Woman, craning her neck to look up at him as she batted her doe eyes and pouted her lip, green claws of jealousy sinking into you once more.
It was the night of the annual Spider Gala where the achievements of the Spider Society would be the highlights of the evening and various awards would be presented, with all employees expected to attend. You broke down and told Jess about your heartbreak from Miguel, and she managed to convince you to attend anyways.
"Show his dumb ass what he's missing out on."
And show him, (and all the male spiders), you did. Necks turned as you made your way across the room to the bar, donning a strapless black evening gown with a sweetheart neckline that kissed your breasts and held them up just right, and a mouthwatering slit in the right thigh. However, once you got your hands on the alcohol, you found it hard to stop throwing down one drink, after another, after another down the hatch. You took a shot each time you saw Miguel glowering at you from across the room, or each time a pretty new Spider tried to talk to him. Rational thoughts checking out for the evening and inebriation settling in.
You found yourself weeping in the bathroom, mascara running down your face when the voice over the speaker announces, "This year's Spider-Man of the year goes to...Miguel O'Hara."
An outbreak of applause interrupts your sobs and you hear Miguel's quiet acceptance speech, the inflections in his rich voice barely moving. The liquid in your veins suddenly inspires you to march back in to the dining hall.
Miguel is sitting back down and when he turns his face back to the stage, it freezes at the person and the silent death stare coming from their tear stained face: you, the woman he scorned, and he knew what the books said about hell hath no fury. Now, all of spider society had a front row seat.
You spoke in a cool tone, fire lining your pupils,
"And I'd like to take a second to congratulate Mr. O'Hara. Well deserved....You know what's so great about him? Just how hard he works. I mean, you couldn't find a boss like him anywhere with how dedicated he is to his work. Nevermind how many people he hurts to achieve his goal and toss aside like trash..."
A pin drops.
"But hey, whatever it takes to protect the multiverse, right?" your voice started to drip with forced sweetness.
The air in the room has become uncomfortably thick, but nobody dares interrupt your rampage. In the audience, Peter B. Parker looks at you sympathetically.
Ahhh typical Miggy, always breaking hearts. Not the first girl he's drove insane like this because he won't commit or let anyone get close to him...
You continue with your speech, "Because feelings are something to be ashamed of, right? Can't let people think you have a weakness or a soft side to you, because then they'll just use it against you. So, you gotta ruin every single good thing that happens to you, because when you lost it the first time, it nearly destroyed you, so you'd rather not have it at all."
The people sitting at Miguel's table give little shrieks of terror as he bolts up, knocking the table askew with his powerful thighs and swiftly walks out, his hands clenched in fists. You follow after him, feeling yourself becoming more and more unhinged.
"Get the fuck away from me," he scowls at you, his pace not slowing down as you pursue him down the empty halls of HQ.
"Just keep running huh, like you always do?" You spew at him as tears run down your face, your eye makeup dark like a raccoon. "How do I taste huh? How do you like me now? You like what you've done to me? You like torturing me like this?!"
You shove and slap him and he whips around, temper snapped, and lands a fist in the wall, the impact reverberating off the stone walls as the surface under his fist cracks slightly.
He pants, his shoulders tense, each back muscle defined underneath his black tux.
"You're done...," he says in a shaky voice. "I need you to stay away from me."
"Good, I'm fucking HAPPY to!!!" you respond sarcastically, throwing your arms in the air. "That's the nicest thing you could do for me at this point!
His back is still turned to you and he leaves without a word.
-------
That same night
You're perched on a lab table, sobbing in the empty lab when a tall figure approaches you, holding a glass of ice water. Your face shoots up to see who it is, only to be let down when it's not Miguel.
"Peter?"
Peter B. Parker walks in, his bowtie hanging undone from his dress shirt collar.
"I just wanted to make sure you're okay." He offers the glass to you and you take it, nursing a few sips.
"I'm...I'm fine...," you sniffle.
"Hey, come here..."
He takes his handkerchief from his tux pocket and dabs at your tears, taking care to not press too firmly into your face and ruin your makeup, despite the fact your tears already have.
"So beautiful..."
He studies your face, and you look back into his, his brown eyes filled with concern, the five o'clock shadow of his face contrasting with the dim light from the only desk lamp in the room, making him look oddly inviting.
He brings a hand to your cheek, running it gently along your chin and starts pulling you closer to him.
"Pete, what..."
He crashed his lips against yours aggressively, the stubble from his face tickling your skin.
"Peter!! Pete... stop...," you gasp in surprise, but then you go numb when he begins kissing your neck.
The way he's kissing your neck is dangerous. He doesn't try to be clean about it, either. His lips are soft and messy, leaving a trail of wetness along your collar and making his way to your chest.
You start to buck your hips, your body responding eagerly to the special attention he's paying to it.
"Pete...no...you're married...."
"We're separated," he mumbles, throwing your dress over his head.
"But I....ohhh....God...," you groan, pushing your back against the wall closest to you, your fists flying to his hair to keep him locked in place as he laps at you from under your dress.
Peter smiles devilishly.
"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me," he says softly.
You shudder.
"Oh, you like that baby?"
You nod eagerly, his tongue on your body plus the liquor in your system catapulting your mind into a state of intense pleasure.
"That feels good. Fffuck Peter.....," you moan breathlessly.
"Mmmm you're sexy when you say my name like that. Miguel doesn't know what a fool he is, passing up a pretty little thing like you...," Peter groans, adding two of his digits this time, his slick covered handsome face coming up to stare at you come undone in his hand..
"Peter...Peter, oh God...."
That's all he needs to hear from you to convince him you're ready to be fucked. You two mess with his belt buckle and soon he's snapping into you deliciously and deep, your nails in his back.
"That's it baby, let me fuck you....urgh, tell me, baby, did he fuck you like this? You're gonna forget about him when I'm done with you. Gonna make you crave this cock instead."
Your eyes rolled back in your head as you let him have his way with you for the rest of the night.
-----
Peter was a good fuck...and boy he did make you feel good for a few hours. But when you awoke the next morning in Peter's bed, Miguel still stayed in the back of your mind. If there was anything else you could have done to get Miguel to be totally turned off from you, this would be it. Winding up in bed with one of his closest allies.
At work the next few weeks, you felt like you might as well have been wearing a scarlet letter A on your chest. Whispers and eyes followed you, conversations shifted in every room you entered. It was beginning to be too much. The occasional time you were unsuccessful at avoiding Miguel's presence, you wanted nothing more than to just cease to exist in that moment.
Your performance slipped and your supervisor took notice. One day, you went into his office and explained you were putting in your two weeks except you wanted to take your leave immediately. He couldn't help but nod and agree. He took pity on you after Jess explained the situation to him and arranged it so you would receive severance pay for a few months after you left. An unexpected fortune admist the sea of misfortunes you were being dealt as of late.
You packed up your desk that afternoon, a twinge of sadness sank from your chest to your belly as you prepared to leap into the unknown as you took one last look at the place that swallowed you up and spat you back out.
There was nothing left for you here. Miguel's face flashed across your mind one more time as you stepped across the threshold. The door closing on your past, the promise of healing hanging in the rays of sunshine that hit your cheeks.
----
379 notes · View notes
garoujo · 1 year
Note
!!nagi swears that kissing you before practice or a match gives him good luck!!<3<33
✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — it seems the teams way to get nagi motivated has its drawbacks.
warnings: sfw! no warnings just nagi being the sweetest :3 note: hi nonnie!!! i decided to just write this lil thing cause i thought it was super cute so i hope u like it sob!!!
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for the most part, it was beneficial when the team decided to start inviting you to their morning practice — as a means to motivate nagi, noticing that the usual sleepy, slacker of a striker seemed to have a little more motivation whenever he’d look over and see you in the stands.
but now.. actually getting him to come onto the pitch to play was a whole other problem entirely.
“hey, nagi! get on the field, jeez.. we’re still a goal behind, ultra genius.” you hear reo call from behind you, huffing when your boyfriend infront of you doesnt even seem to give him a second thought as he waves him off from over his shoulder. you think it’s amusing though, the pleading look his bestfriend gives you like he’s begging you to help him out.
nagi on the other hand, is currently leaning over the barrier at the stands — shooting you a starry-eyed look from under his messy bangs. his gloved hands fidget with the hem of your t-shirt and you feel them twitch tighter around the fabric every few moments, like an adorable little attempt to pull you closer as he sends you a pout.
“this is a pain, ‘ts in the way.” your boyfriend breathes as his longer limbs shift and fidget over the metal fence against him he’s referring to — surprisingly enough managing to support his weight as he leans against it, probably finding standing too bothersome given how long they’ve been practicing already.
but you give nagi an inch as you take a step closer, just enough to let his hands graze along your hips as he lets his head lean forward and rest on your chest. “you’re needed on the field, sei.” you try to reason as you push his snowy bangs away from his gaze, letting you take in the pretty, drowsy expression on his face when he blinks slowly up at you.
“eh, don’t wanna. wanna stay here.” another slow drawl and his fingers are squeezing at your skin, feeling him nuzzle deeper into your chest as he leans even further into you — making the barrier squeak slightly under his weight. you’re not sure it’s quite built to balance lazy 190cm strikers.
“but i wanna see you score more goals. we can get lemon tea before we go home.” it’s tempting, especially when you say it in that pretty little voice you know he loves. so you feel nagi’s head twist against you before he’s sending you a cute little look, cheek smooshed against you as he huffs.
“i’m sleepy though, i wanna have a bath and play video games with you instead. ‘ts no fair.”
“i’ll give you a kiss for every goal you score.” it’s quick, your reply — it doesn’t give him a moment to consider it because you know it’s a bargain he can’t pass up. only a few simple things could get nagi seishiro motivated and your kisses were right up there next to video games and well— that’s it.
“wan’ them now. need ‘em for a power up.” it’s hard to say no to him when he’s giving you that look, it’s sleepy and doe-eyed and there’s a soft glow that swims in the deep colour of his eyes that makes you smile before you’re scratching your hand through his hair. it makes your boyfriend shudder and he pulls you closer before you’re reminded of the time limit when reo sends you a wave followed by a grumpier sort of look.
“three goals for three kisses.” your words are rushed but they make nagi stand to full height just as quickly despite the way his arms remain around you — head leaning into the press of your palm when it cups his cheek.
“yay.” it’s soft, spoken under his breath when you push his hair from his features to peck him once on the lips, followed by another before he’s meeting you quickly for the last — urging it to be a little deeper than the other two as he pulls you into him. you hear him hum and you decide to give him a little extra motivation when you swipe your tongue between his lips, hearing a sweet whimper sound from him before he’s parting them for more — but just as quickly as it deepens, you pull away to grin.
“hey, why’d you pull away. wasn’t done yet.” nagi’s words are whinier now but there’s a soft flush on the tips of his ears and you think it’s cute just how easy it was to get him drowsy on kisses.
“it was just for good luck. three goals, sei. then you’ll get more!” you let your fingers scratch through his messy hair again as he groans, followed by a quick thumbs up to reo from over his shoulder before you’re pushing him lightly. he sways before he turns and you laugh at the next pout he sends you as his arms fall to sway by his side — his eyes still on you even as he makes his way back towards the team, although there’s something darker in his gaze now.
“eh, i guess. but it’s so bothersome, three goals is too easy.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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forever-rogue · 1 year
Note
Joel teaching reader how to swim and hella sexual tension I would DIE
I am a sucker for the thought of Joel teaching reader how to do anything
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AN | Shut up though, I loved writing this! 🥰 
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.3k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Joel had taught you a lot of things since you'd met him almost two years ago.
He'd taught you how to shoot properly, despite the fact that you nearly blew his head off. He had the patience of a saint, but claimed he had the heart of a sinner. Either way - he was the one that taught you.
He'd taught you how to drive, despite the fact that there was no real reason for you to know. Sure, you had been plenty old enough drive before the end of the world but had never wanted to. These days it just seemed like a novelty. Even though you had managed to back into a tree - a feat he still wasn't sure how you managed - he still was patient and gentle with you. 
The man had taught you a lot of useful things and skills, and you were always an eager learner. If anything, you enjoyed being in his company. 
In turn you'd shown him some of your own skills and tricks. You were sure they paled in comparison but you couldn't deny the fact that it was hilarious to watch him try and bake. He might have been a decent cook but a baker, he was not. And yet you still ate his hard, flavorless cookies with a big smile on your face.
You loved getting to show him how to crochet, despite how frustrated he grew at the delicate materials in his hands. You set him right over and over again but never lost your patience even when he was ready to give up. He'd ended up making you an off kilter scarf; you adored it.
It was a trade off between the two of you; give and take, take and give. Sometimes it was the little things, like him making sure you'd remembered to eat or bringing you a coffee or you making sure he'd rested or didn't forget any of his tools. 
You didn't really know where that left the two of you, in this sort of weird limbo where you were neither just friends but also not lovers. It was…odd. Sometimes you were ready to step across the line, to step from the garden into the jungle and finally just kiss him but you never quite worked up the needed bravado. Joel experienced significant moments of weakness, ones where he desired to pull you into his arms and kiss you dizzy, but he never let him spiral. Instead he kept his distance, yearning and yearning and yearning.
But now? Now he was convinced you were trying to kill him.
And it had all started one lazy evening when he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Idiot, he cursed himself.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"What do you mean you don't know how to swim?" Joel almost choked on his beer as you offered him a sheepish little smile, "that's - its - I…that's a basic life skill!"
"I dunno," you felt your face warming and warming under his intense scrutiny, sure you would explode from the look in his eyes, "I just never learned and never really a need to."
"What if some sort of emergency happened and you needed to swim, huh?" He leaned back in his chair and regarded you with curiosity, a smile dancing across his features, "you just gonna drown?"
"No," you waved him off, "I always thought that I'd be able to just…figure out."
"Right," he was holding back his laughter, you could tell, "of course."
"Joel Miller!" You huffed at him, "do not laugh at me!"
"I'm not!"
"You are too," you looked at him with a pout and he leaned forward to brush a few stray hairs out of your face. The simple shiver felt electric, "don't be mean…please."
"I'm not, sweetheart," he promised, "but I am going to teach you how to swim."
"What?!"
"Yes," he nodded cooly, "and you don't get a choice so don't bother arguing. You need to know how…and even if you never swim again, at least you'll know how to."
"Fine," you pretended to glare at him, your expression falling so far away from that, "fine."
"Fine," he nodded in agreement, "this weekend at the lake."
He had no idea he'd just signed his death warrant.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was a warm and sunny afternoon when you made your way over to the lake. You had your bathing suit on under your baggy t-shirt and jean shorts. This felt so…normal. That alone brought a smile to your face.
Joel was already there, a blanket and some towels and a picnic basket on the ground next to him. If you'd been looking at him and not stunned at everything he'd brought, you might have noticed the way his entire face lit up.
"Joel," you finally turned to him and felt your legs already turn to tell at the sight of him, "you've…definitely gone well above what I expected."
"Well, I had to make this a good first time…e-experience," his cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you giggled at him.
"A good first time, huh?" You teased and yeah. You were absolutely going to be the death of him.
"First time swimming," he stared at his feet, mentally kicking himself for how foolish you made him feel, "first experience with swimming."
"Relax Miller," you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I'm just teasin'."
"You're being cruel," he insisted as you shrugged innocently, "we're here for a very serious purpose."
"You're right," you nodded firmly, "let's get started…unless you want to eat first?"
"Food after," he insisted as you playfully rolled your eyes and nodded. You kicked off your slides and tugged down your shorts. Your t-shirt had been oversize and baggy enough that nothing was really showing. 
This much Joel could handle. This was still in the safe zone. He mirrored your actions and pulled down his pants, leaving his bottom half in swim trunks. You took a moment to admire that much of him.
Then you did it; you almost gave him a heart attack as you lifted up your shirt, making quick work of throwing it off and discarding it into the growing clothes pile. Joel inhaled sharply as he looked you over with wide eyes.
You were wearing a two-piece, one that first you perfectly, highlight every curve, and looked like it was made for you. Joel was almost drooling as he willed himself not stare at your ass or breasts, reminding himself that this was just to teach you to swim. A valuable life skill. 
But he was slowly forgetting that with each passing moment, drinking you in and trying his best to remain respectful. You were just so damn beautiful.
You caught him staring and instantly shied away, worried by his silent reaction, "is this too much? Should I try and change into something else-
"No!"
"This was the only one I could scrounge up," you nervously scratched the back of your neck, "nobody seemed to have anything better."
Right. Because no one else in Jackson had something better or more modest. They did, of course they did, but…they were also tired of watching the two of you moon over each other and thought that maybe this would push the two of you in the right direction. Friendly encouragement, Ellie would call it.
"It's fine," it was anything but fine. It was giving him a heart attack and a hard on, "really."
"Okay," you nodded shyly as he cleared his throat, "come on then, I can't be the only one this exposed!"
Joel hesitated for a moment before moving to take off his shirt. It was something he still struggled with at times, but he knew that you'd never judge him. If there was anything he trusted, it was you.
As soon as he was shirtless you had to work to keep from jumping his bones. He was always insanely attractive in that rugged, handsome way and this was no exception. Golden skin marred with the harshness and cruelty of the years and dotted with freckles. You wanted to map them out with your lips, to taste him, and make him yours. It could be so simple, really. All you had to do-
"Hey," Joel snapped you out of your little daydream fantasy and you looked back at him with a soft, dreamy smile, "take a picture, huh?"
"Ha ha," damn. He'd caught you red-handed, "let's get started."
"Get in the water," he insisted as he jerked his head to the side.
"Pardon?"
"Dive right in," he repeated, "I'll go first and make sure you don't drown, sweetheart. Gotta learn to tread water first and foremost."
"I…I'm nervous," you confessed softly, "what if I can't do it?"
"You can," he promised softly, "I have full faith in you. And you know I would never let anything happen to you."
You both knew he was right.
"Okay. I trust you," you whispered, walking to the water's edge. 
It was sink or swim, and something told you that was going to be applicable for multiple things today.
"Good," he promised, "come on."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Turned out that swimming wasn't too bad at all. Or too hard. What was that old expression - like a duck to water? Well that happened to be you. It probably didn't hurt that you didn't want to make a fool out of yourself in front of Joel, so you listened closely and tried your best to do exactly what he was telling you.
Admittedly it was hard to stay focused with him close and so bare and so hands on. Every fiber of your being was humming with anticipation and nerves.
"Not so hard," Joel grinned as you swam to a stop in front of him. You were practically glowing under his praise. 
"Not so bad-" but just then you felt something touch your leg, and you shrieked. It was such an odd and unexpected sensation that your body did the first thing it could thing of - grab onto to Joel.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," you were holding onto him tightly, pressing your body into his as you willed whatever had touched you to disappear. Joel, naturally and instinctively, wrapped his arm around you in a protective manner, "what's wrong? What happened?"
 “I felt something,” you closed your eyes and buried your face into his neck - his glorious, lovely neck - and tried to calm down, “it was brushed against my leg. It felt so weird and gross.”
“Oh,” and he laughed, the bastard had the audacity to laugh, as you pulled back and looked at him with a pretty pout on your lips. He longed to kiss it away, “we’re in a lake sweetheart, there’s bound to be some fish in here.”
“Fish?” your nose wrinkled in disgust, something which he found endearing as hell, “I…that makes sense. But I don’t like it! It felt horrible.”
“You’re okay,” he promised sweetly, pushing your wet hair behind your ears, “I’ve got you.”
“I know,” there was a palpable shift between the two of you then and there. He didn’t let go of you, and you weren’t in a hurry to pull out of his touch. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, at a loss for words. Instead, you just looked at him, the human embodiment of heart eyes, “Joel.”
“How much longer are we going to keep doing this?” he asked so quietly that for a moment you wondered if he’d even said anything. But then he was so close, and so close for you to finally kiss.
“D-doing what?” you stammered nervously, well aware of what he meant.
“Dancing around each other,” he brushed his knuckles over your cheek and you made a small sound in the back of your throat, “acting like we don’t want this. So close, but never quite there.”
“We could stop…”
“We should stop,” he agreed with a small nod, tilting his head as he cupped the back of your neck with a soft touch, “if you want to.”
"Oh totally, I want to,” you agreed, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours and he was kissing in the sweetest and most gentle touch. You couldn’t help the small moan that escaped you as he pulled you impossibly closer and you melded your body into his. He didn’t stop until you were breathless and definitely in a dizzying love spiral. 
“Look at that,” he pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as you sighed softly, “nothing happened and you, sweetheart, know how to swim.”
“I had a pretty good teacher,” and with that you kissed him again, lazy and saccharine, neither of you in a rush to end what had been building for so long, “you know?”
“It’s easy when you have a good student,” he teased affectionately, “you’re going to be the death of me…but you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” you sighed into his touch, “but you love it.”
“I do,” he had to stop himself from saying what was really on his mind just yet. He didn’t want to rush; he wanted to take the time to cultivate what he had with you, to watch it blossom and grow over time, “I do.”
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after-witch · 7 months
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A Morning After [Yandere Uvogin x Reader]
Title: A Morning After [Yandere Uvogin x Reader]
Synopsis: You didn't think about what you and your newly found soulmate Uvogin might do next. Follow up to Late Night Break In.
word count: 2040
notes: yandere, soul mate au
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You hadn’t thought about what might come next.
But here you are, sitting in your bedroom while your tall, unusual soulmate rests his chin on his hand, seeming to ponder the events more quietly than you might expect from someone with his appearance.
“So uh,” you interrupt, and he turns to look at you. “What do we… do now?”
Your question seems to surprise him.
“Do?” You can make how his features twisting a little in the night-time light through your window. “Huh, I didn’t really think about that.” The words come sighing out. He’s just as lost as you, which is both a comfort and a worry.
Your fingers grip at your comforter--there’s a brief, stupid flash of a thought about the fact that it was brand name, purchased without a payment plan, and you’d even saved up enough to have it dry-cleaned--and twist at the fabric. 
“Well,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “Are you staying the night? Or um, staying here?” The questions come tumbling out, now that your mind has shaken off the shock of his meeting. “Am I staying here? Are we staying here?” You blink rapidly. “Am I still going into work? Are you going to pay my bills? Do you have bills, wherever you live? Do you have enough room for my things, if I’m not staying? Is there a way I could stay?” You think about what that might mean, living here while your soul mate pops in secretly. But you had a gut feeling that your soul mate was not some ordinary person, and another thought crept in, slower and more serious. “I mean… could I even stay here? Is someone going to come after me or something like that?”
Uvogin regards your incessant barrage of questions with a simple quirk of his eyebrow, and then a quirk of his head, and then a quirk of his mouth. Finally, he simply chuckles and shakes his head.
“You’re something, all right.”
Your lips curl up a little.
“Excuse me?”
He hums and splays his hands out. 
“I just said--you’re something.”
You pull the comforter up higher and wrinkle your nose at him. 
“Well, don’t make that sound like a bad thing.”
He grins again--you get the feeling, innate, that he can’t quite help it--and puts his hands up in surrender.
“Didn’t mean anything bad by it. I just haven’t met someone like you before.” He looks up at the ceiling, his hair shifting with the movement. “But I guess most people who meet me aren’t talking about bills and houses.”
You should ask something like: What does that mean? Why don’t people talk about casual things to you? Who are you, anyway? 
But in your chest you feel something… warm and bitter. Like a twinge of sympathy, maybe. Is that your soul mate bond reacting or something else? 
You sigh. Your world suddenly seems both very small and big at the same time, alternating on some wild axis and you don’t know where it will stop.
“Look,” you say, gathering your thoughts. “I… I won’t fight you, if you don’t want me to stay here. I get the impression that you’re not a settling-down-in-one-place type of person.” He snorts, and you continue. “But I really mean it when I say I want my things.” 
You feel that pinching in your chest again, and wonder if he feels it, too. “You don’t know how much it took me to get all this. Not just money-wise, but taking the time to research things.” You gesture around your bedroom. “How to tell quality over quantity. How to take care of nice things.” 
Your fingers tighten and loose on the comforter again and again.
I”m not rich and I don’t have a lot but… it feels nice to pretend sometimes. You know?”
There are a few moments where he simply looks at you
“Yeah,” he tells you, a little softly. “I get it.” 
He sighs, this time a long, stretched out thing. And when he speaks next, he seems to have made some sort of decision.
“Well. For now, I’ll stay the night. It’s late. We can figure out the rest in the morning, can’t we?”
You nod. It really would be more sensible to think on things and approach this with a clear head, although you wonder just how much your opinion mattered in the end here. 
But then Uvogin starts to shift as if he’s going to lay down and the noise you make is something in between a squawk and a shout.
“Wait! Wait!”
He freezes.
“There--there isn’t room on the bed for both of us. The weight limit is probably already being stretched, I--”
He shrugs, a big, casual gesture. You think for a moment that he’ll insist, which is something you aren’t comfortable with for more ways than one, but he merely stands up. “No problem. I can sleep on the floor.”
Pinch, pinch, twist goes your chest. What is this feeling, anyway? 
“I’ll get some blankets,” you offer, the words coming out slow. You feel both like a terrible host and a victim tonight in the same measure, and you’re not sure which wins out.
You slowly peel your comforter aside and scurry off, feeling his eyes following you all the while. But it doesn’t feel entirely creepy. There’s an intimacy to it--and is this how it feels, to be wanted by your soul mate? Is this how your coworkers feel? Your friends, your family? Those people on TV who gush about finally finding “the one”? 
As you return with a pile of carefully folded blankets in your arms, you suddenly can’t blame them, for worrying about you missing out. It feels… nice. Worrisome, sure, considering the circumstances. But you can’t deny that nice warm pull in your chest, even as your logical mind worries about other things. 
He watches quietly while you unfold and unfurl the blankets, creating a makeshift bed on the floor. You grab a few extra pillows from your closet and toss them down, cringing a little--they were really nice cases, too, a good thread count. But there was nothing to be done about that. When you’re finished making the floor bed as comfortable as it can possibly be, you glance at him, and he stares down at the creation you’ve made which is… clearly far too small for his frame.
You cough and scurry back to the linen closet and return with more blankets. How big must his bed be, wherever he slept normally? Did he have somewhere to sleep normally? Too many questions, and you wonder if you’ll ever get an answer. 
When you’re truly finished making the bed, you glance up at your soulmate, who is sporting a smile on his lips. You wait for him to make some kind of snarky remark, but he says nothing. And… you, you like that. He knows how to tease you, sure, but he apparently knows when to keep it back as well. 
Somehow this nice little thought carries you through the process of crawling back into bed, and waiting for him to get settled into the makeshift blanket-bed on the floor. 
In the morning, you two will have to talk things through. Maybe in the morning, he’ll be more forthcoming with answers to your questions. Or maybe you will have a clearer head and put your foot down on leaving… or a clearer head and realize that doing such a thing would be truly pointless.
Maybe you can ask him more about how he found you, or ask him if he ever felt lonely or if his friends--did he have friends?--wanted him to find a soulmate like yours so readily did. 
Maybe in the morning you’ll ask him how much money he makes, because you’ll have to come up with a budget. He’s so much taller than you, more muscular, he probably eats a ton. Where will the money for that come from? Will you even be able to store that much food in your apartment? Maybe you’ll have to get a new one, if he doesn’t take you somewhere. Maybe he makes enough for an upgrade. Or maybe not. 
Maybe, maybe, maybe. 
Maybe it will all make sense in the morning.
That is… if you can fall asleep.
You’re tossing and turning, and it’s not surprising, but it definitely doesn’t help matters. You land somewhere in between on the next toss, staying flat on your back and staring up at your bare white ceiling.
“Uvogin?” You ask, voice soft in the darkness. 
There’s no answer at first. He might be asleep. You should just go back to bed.
But then there’s a noise, low but unmistakable, from the floor. 
“Hmm?” 
You choose your words as carefully as you can.
“I don’t mean to be negative, really, but um. I don’t have the money to buy groceries for 2 people and toiletries for 2 people and a bed for another person--where would it even go?--and I don’t know if I can afford to move--”
You hear the blankets on the floor rustling, and see his figure moving in the dark. He doesn’t stand up, but merely gets up on his knees and looms over the bed. There’s a moment where your heart thuds hard (he’s so close to you) but all he does is put a finger to your lips. 
Then he shows a cocky grin, white teeth in the dark. 
“Listen. You think too much. Don’t worry your pretty head about stupid things like money. Who cares about that?” 
You bristle, and you’re ready to argue but he taps his finger on your lips again.
“It’s not the type of thing you gotta worry about when you’re my soulmate.” You see him rub his nose, considering. “
“Got it?”
He’s waiting for an answer.
“Got it,” you murmur.
He nods and gets back down, taking his position back on the makeshift floor bed.
And you? You stare back up at the ceiling, which until perhaps an hour ago had been nothing more than the white space you were vaguely considering jazzing up with some fake crown molding, like the kind you saw in magazines. 
You wonder if Uvogin was the type of person who liked fake crown molding. Or hated it. Or did he care at all? Maybe he had no opinion on home decor, which in your estimation, was practically offensive. Did soulmates like all the same things you did? Or did they--
“Don’t think so much,” his voice interrupts. “It’s like I can hear you thinking in the dark.”
Your lips twist together, frowning.
“I--”
“Go to sleep” he says, a little softer. “We want to go at this with a clear head tomorrow, right?”
It’s your turn to lean up in bed, though you don’t go as far as getting off it. Instead you look down at him, and it’s no surprise to see him staring at you.
“That’s just what I was thinking earlier-- a clear head.”
He nods.
“Yeah, I know.” 
You swallow hard, and your fingers go back to twisting the comforter. 
“Can you… read my mind?”
He snorts and lets out a chuckle. 
“Don’t be stupid.” For some reason, you don’t take offense. It’s the way he says it, maybe. He taps his chest.
The twinge, the pinch, the pull. 
“Ah,” you say, and rest your head back down on the pillow. This time, you turn so that you’re on your side, facing the interior of your bedroom and the spot where Uvogin was set up to sleep. Although he wasn’t doing it anymore than you were at the moment, obviously.
He looks at you for a few more moments, then closes his eyes.
“Go to bed.”
“Okay,” you murmur, closing your eyes. This time, you begin to feel the tug and pull of sleep, shutting down your conscious thought and leaving you drifting with threads that went nowhere. 
Maybe things would truly be clearer for the both of you in the morning. 
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nctsworld · 8 months
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at your earliest convenience
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✩‌ haechan x reader | fluff | 1.3k
SUMMARY | in which haechan is always your one (and annoying) late-night customer at the 24/7 convenience store you work at and one evening, he forgets his wallet. in lieu of payment, he asks if he can take you out on a date instead. // part of the connection series
WARNINGS | slightly insecure reader, none really!
RATING | teen+
AUTHOR'S NOTE | please check out (and maybe send in some prompt requests) @nctpromptmeme!
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You ring him up, like clockwork. 
The scanner picks up a bag of the Korean brand onion rings, two Red Bulls, and an instant noodle cup.  
He’s the only consistent man in your life, ignoring the fact that the sole reason why he’s in your life is because he always comes into the 24/7 convenience store you work at during late, sometimes ungodly, hours. Tonight, it’s not that bad: 1:53am. 
Rarely, no one else strolls in during your shift (and you’re grateful it’s a safe neighbourhood). 
However, this young man lives to make your shift a painful one. 
Usually with ruffled hair, transparent-framed glasses, and a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, he saunters in as if he owns the store, often swinging his keys or obnoxiously whistling along to the song playing in the background. From the moment he steps into the store, his existence alone irks you. 
Unsurprisingly, he then takes a solid ten minutes on average (yes, you’ve timed it) to buy his items. Whistling evolves into screeches or emphatic oohs and aahs. Sometimes, he even narrates the entire process, as if he's the main character in a show. And yet, despite it all, he ends up buying the same rotation of his favourite items. 
If not the onion rings, the shrimp crackers. If not the Red Bulls, the bottles of Monster instead. He may be grabbing one cup of noodles tonight, but other times it’s three. Potentially even a completely different brand, if he’s feeling adventurous.   
On that note, predictability is in his nature. You plead internally for him to live a little, to maybe even spice up his night with a little change, for crying out loud. Heck, maybe even change the grey or black t-shirt he always wears to a shade that’s not a neutral tone or to put on a jacket for once. 
And the cherry on top is the constant annoying smirk he flashes when you tell him his total. 
You want to punch it off his face, smear it across the shiny floors with the dirty mop water you use at the beginning and end of shift.  
“How are you doing tonight, gorgeous?” he asks. Sometimes gorgeous is replaced with beautiful or cutie. It only adds to his annoyance of regularity and you have an itch he does this all the time with others, making you not take his typical endearing terms seriously.  
You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I’m not gorgeous, but, as always, thank you for the compliment.” 
His smirk melts, and you catch yourself feeling a tinge of something as his features soften. 
“You are, though,” your regular says. You quickly glance up, wondering if that pout and look in his eyes are genuine. “You know that I call you gorgeous because I mean it, right?” 
You’re unsure how to react, so you give a small nod and repeat the total, softly this time.
There’s a beat when the man gets lost in thought, but the moment quickly fades. He reaches into his sweatpants. However, he stops abruptly, before he reaches in again and pats the outside of his other pockets. 
“Fuck,” he hisses. You realize two things: one, you’ve never heard him curse; and two, he doesn’t have his wallet.
Well, that surely is different than usual.
Instinctively, you pull the snacks toward you. 
“Don’t you dare think I’m letting you walk away with everything for free,” you say, half-jokingly. Even though you’re 80% certain you can trust him, you still don’t know what he’s like.  
He smiles sweetly, quite differently than his smirks, forcing you to admit he’s handsome (just a little). “How could you expect me to stoop that low?” he whine-asks, clutching his chest in pain. 
After a moment of staring up at the ceiling in thought with his tongue running against his lower teeth, a Cheshire grin spreads over his face and he raises an eyebrow.
You don’t like it one bit and regret the moment earlier, mentally punching yourself for finding him a tiny bit attractive. 
“How about…”—he pauses as he rhythmically taps his fingers onto the counter—“...you let me take you out on a date in exchange for these items?” 
A scoff releases into the air. “Are you really telling me I’m only worth $11.87?” 
“What—no! Of course not,” he flicks a wrist upward in annoyance, then gestures to himself. “A date with me is worth way more in value, so you’ll be getting a better bargain.” 
You could not believe this guy. “Is a date with you really going to be worth it?” 
“Look,” he leans in over the counter and you catch a whiff of a light, woody scent. You fight off the desire to deeply inhale it. “No matter where we go or what happens, I’ll make sure you’ll be happy by the end of it. Isn’t that worth taking the risk of losing $11.87?” 
Squinting your eyes at him, while still clutching the goods he wants, you start to warm-up to the idea since you don’t have anything to lose (but maybe that’s due to the influence of his slightly intoxicating aura). 
“Will you choose the date location?” you ask, guarded.
He shakes his head. “Everything will be up to you and I’ll try to accommodate my schedule as best as I can.” 
You raise an eyebrow, challenging him. “And what if I want to go to the most expensive restaurant in town?”
Without hesitation, he nods. “Then we’ll go to the most expensive restaurant in town.” 
“If I wanted to order the $130 steak?” 
“$130 steak it is.” 
“If I—” 
The cute (you can’t deny it at this point) stranger cuts you off with a raise of his hand. God, you hate how cocky he is. 
Suddenly, he holds out a hand, sticking his pinky finger up. He waggles it, and you realize he’s waiting for you to do the same. You curl a pinky around his.
“There. I promise you—cross my heart and swear on my mother’s life—that I’ll uphold and adhere to whatever date conditions you ask of me.” He straightens, stepping away from the counter. “Now, can I please have my snacks and drinks?” 
The events of tonight took quite a turn. Never in a million years would you think Mr. Predictability would ask you out on a date, let alone be pretty sweet about it.  
Perhaps there’s more to him than you thought. 
You hand him your phone, and he does the same. 
When he gives it back, you shake your head at the text he sent and the name he gave himself.
“Hyuck?” you ask, unfamiliar with the name.  
“Short for Donghyuck, but yes, beautiful?”
You turn your phone towards him in disbelief. “What’s with the heart next to your name?” 
He shrugs, flashing you another smug smile. “What about it?”  
Glancing down at his phone, he beams. You wonder if it’s because you wrote the following in brackets after your name: You Owe Me a Date Worth More than $11.87. 
“And your name is just as beautiful as you are.” 
Again, another eye roll. You wonder if the date will be filled with more of it. You shove the stuff towards him. 
“I have to know: do those lines really work?”
“Well, I have a date lined up with you, so you tell me.” 
Before you have a chance to retort, he grabs something out from his pocket.
A wallet.
His motherfucking wallet, and he has the audacity to toss a $20 bill onto the counter with the same grin that you still want to wipe the floor with. Your jaw hangs. 
“Keep the change,” he says, along with your name and grants you a wink as he grabs his items. 
“I’ll be seeing you on our date soon, gorgeous.” 
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AUTHOR'S ENDING NOTE
thank you for reading! i've been getting so much love for this - y'all are amazing. if you would like to read an informal continuation, see here!
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yzashaven · 9 months
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✰ ━━━ how they show affection for you <3
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FEATURING scaramouche, tartaglia, xiao, albedo, thoma, kazuha, alhaitham, cyno x gn!reader
WARNINGS some are prob ooc 😭
NOTE (omfg these images are so low quality LMAO) on my past blogs, i usually only write nsfw so this is like... a change of pace? sort of... anyways hope you enjoy, likes and rbs are ofc appreciated! also, referring to wanderer as scaramouche since his name is player dependant
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okay so hear me out when i say he seems like the type to take you to places with the prettiest views (shout out to his birthday voiceline) whether it be views of the sunset, a flower field, an ocean or beach view... as long as it's a pretty site to see, he'll take you there! scaramouche loves the way the places give him a peaceful feeling, and the way that it's just the two of you there? he's in paradise and heaven combined.
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a bit similar to scara, tartaglia would take you to places. and by places i mean his homeland, snezhnaya, for the snow and to see his family. his little brother, teucer is certainly very fond of you, and tartaglia loves to watch you spend time with his siblings. he's such a family oriented guy... another thing he'd do is cook delicious meals for you! ranging from simple snacks to your personal favorites, and definitely some snezhnayan delicacies~
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xiao is sweet to his lover, no doubt. but that doesn't mean he'll ignore his duties as an adeptus and focus on them. he expresses his love by protecting you... and maybe sharing his almond tofu. need his help? call out for him and he'll be there in an instant. also this whole love thing is very new to xiao, soo he's not used to things like hugging and kissing, yk those kinda stuff but he'll get used to it eventually. he does really like your company though, brings a smile to his face.
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we all know albedo is a very amazing alchemist, he can make basically anything within a few hours or even minutes. he'd use his skill and powers to give you sentimental itemsㅡ such as a bouquet of flowers that never wither or ones that glow in your favorite color. If you don't really like flowers, don't worry, he can make whatever it is that you want! oh you want a dragon? he'll try and will come back to you with a small, cute, non-hostile looking one that protects you <3
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he is sometimes busy due to work for the kamisato clan and being the "fixer" in inazuma, but he never forgets to make time for you! his love language is definitely quality time as he loves to just relax and accompany you wherever. another way thoma shows affection is through doing errands and other things for you such as cooking, cleaning around in your teapot realm, curing for your wounds if you ever get hurt, and maybe doing a commission or two of yours!
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kaedehara kazuha... he's such a romantic man when it comes to his lover. he'll write you a poem literally every single day and compliment you every minute. kazuha also likes to run his hands through your hair as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear while you watch the sun set together at the best vantage point in wherever it is you're traveling at. he also definitely introduced you to his mom(beidou) so he takes you with him on the crux for fun adventures together! or just taking naps as the boat sets sail.
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as the akademiya's scribe, alhaitham is often busy attending to those missions along with his personal investigations and other matters. so to prevent any lost time, he takes you with him. you're quite the strong fighter yourself so there won't be any problems, right? and if something bad does happen, he's your savior. despite talking sharply at times about how you weren't being careful or being reckless, he still loves you and will be happy that you're safe. alhaitham would reassure you about that too. also you study together at the akademiya library sometimes, he really likes having you around :3
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cyno is a man of few words but reassures you about how much he loves you and would quite literally tear apart, limb from limb anyone that tries to harm you. cyno keeps a close eye on you especially when he senses danger is near, he wouldn't even wish for anything bad to happen to you. as the general mahamatra, fighting is practically his specialty which is why he uses that fighting experience and knowledge to protect you even if you tell him that you can handle yourself, he insists as he doesn't want to risk losing you like that.
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sweeteaacakes · 2 months
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╰┈➤ ❝ Adoring You ❞
┊ ➶ 。˚ ° Andreal asked if he may touch your face (=ㅇㅅㅇ=q
┊ ➶ 。˚ ° warning! suggestive content. just smootch ♡. no beta, we vanish like Solomon...
┊❥・ pairing: WHB!Andrealphus/GN!Reader
»»-----------►
You were resting for the day in the room given to you. It's simple but has its necessity. A wardrobe, an armchair, a comfortable bed… And Andrealphus, who decided to be with you as a guardian.
You sat on the bed while the demon surveyed the room searching where to sit. He was about to take the lone armchair when you, without hesitation, offered him to be with you on the bed. Of course, such offer took back the taciturn demon so you tried to salvage the situation and not create a misunderstanding. The double bed was more comfortable and spacious afterall!
Andrealphus seems to have understood you didn’t mean it in that intimate way. Instead, he took another way and now you’re laying at the bed with him and cuddling.
Currently, you’re scrolling through your phone to see any update from the outside while Andrealphus’ arms are wrapped around you, chin resting on your head. He made a pleasant hum but soon enjoyed it quietly. It was just the sound of the occasional tap on the screen, your breathing and Andrealphus’ breath grazing your hair each time his chest goes down.
Andrealphus then spoke out your name to get your attention.
"Can I... touch your face?" He asked.
You looked up at his scarred eyes shifting from side to side. Nervousness and softness blended together forming the blush on his cheeks. You smiled and nodded, making Andrealphus let out a soft breath from his lips while his face lightened up with a smile. You sat and he followed. Now facing each other, you scoot in a position that will make both of you comfortable.
Andrealphus took off his leather gloves first then lifted his hands but paused before touching you, seeking for another approval. You softly held his hands and brought them to cup your cheeks, letting go once Andrealphus moved on his own.
His hands are big. His fingers, long and slender. On the back of the hand his veins are visible and traces of scars from the past lingers like a mark. And yet the hands holding you are still gentle, smooth and have a pleasant coldness despite being covered by the leather gloves most of the time.
He sighed as he caressed your cheeks. First with his thumbs then with the rest of his fingers. He was gentle and soft.
You were quite unsure where to look. Whether to his hand or his eyes. Even if he can’t see you, Andrealphus seems to be looking at yours directly. Unlike you whose heart is beating fast, he is unbothered to show how he feels. His soft features and adoration boldly show his feelings for you.
He moved on your forehead and did the same, tracing your hairline that frames your face. Next was your eyebrow to which he traced its shape with thumbs and index finger. Andrealphus made a soft sigh of enjoyment and next… was your eyes.
You wanted to close them but something kept them open and focused on the pair of eyes on you. Andrealphus became more gentle and careful. He traced your upper eyelids and when he reached your lower eyelid Andrealphus let out a trembling sigh and… bit his lower lips.
He slightly bent forward, making you slightly flinch at the idea he may come closer. The demon seemed to be aroused but he took his time to study the shape. You can feel is anticipation and his beauty was so captivating thay intimate thoughts started running in your head.
The edges of his face, his lips and amber eyes that despite being scarred and tragic were beautiful. You wanted to hold him and trace his whole being like how he is doing at yours but you were kept still at the spot for him.
The next thing you knew was his fingertip tracing the bridge of your nose a few times. He did it a few times. Like an owner petting their cat above the nose. He seemed to be aware of this fact as he let out a chuckle. You pouted yet left with a playful smirk especially when he booped your nose tip and placed a quick gentle kiss on it.
Andrealphus chuckled at the little moment of silliness before returning to you again. His hands cupped your cheeks then proceeded to trace the edges of your face. How your ears curve and any possible accessories you may be wearing.
From your cheeks to your chin, he traced any particular uniqueness he may have gazed at any spot. If there were moments you felt insecure, Andrealphus smiled and hummed, memorizing that spot that tells him it’s you. Even closing his eyes to focus on the touch even more.
When he opened his eyes again, his thumbs now are caressing the edge of your lips to study its shape. It tested your already flustered heart to not jump out your chest and keep still. Your lips and body trembled as you looked up at him. Your eyes became watery from the tease along with your mouth so you gulped down the feeling.
You know what Andrealphus is doing. And he knows it too. It was the part he kept last. It was so obvious. His index finger lingered more on your lips. You couldn’t help but bite your lip to which he smirked. But before he could make a sound you opened your lips, stuck out your tongue and took his index finger in your mouth.
Andrealphus gasped at the action. Your lips nibbled on his fingertip and tongue swirled on it. With a pop, you took it out and did the same to his thumb. Andrealphus let out a trembling sigh and a moan. He called your name and you looked at him.
You made his hand cup your cheek and placed a kiss on his wrist before gently pulling him towards you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and the other hand stroked his chest. Andrealphus’ body involuntarily closes the gap and pins you down on the bed.
“Can I…?” He asked, holding your chin and grazing your lower lips. You nodded and he didn’t waste any second to close the gap between your lips and his in a deep kiss.
His gentleness from before turned into eagerness. His lips savored yours, sucking your bottom lip and nibbling every inch. Andrealphus moaned. You felt his tongue prodding your lips, asking to enter. As you opened your mouth, he stuck his tongue and began to swirl around yours.
You felt the sloppy muscle entering further that you almost gagged. His tongue—!
Andrealphus deepened the kiss and, once satisfied, he slowly withdrawn out. You coughed and gasped for air before looking at the demon looking down at you. His face was red, eyes full of eagerness while he stuck out his tongue… his tongue is long!
Saliva trailed from it. When retracted his tongue back in his mouth he gulped and let out a satisfied sigh like he drunk a refreshing water.
"It's sweet... you, I mean." Andrealphus said.
His voice were like velvet and words like honey, making many sensation course in you. The heat from two bodies. Two breaths catching up for air. The hardness resting on your knees that’s making your thigh clench.
The wanting for more.
After regaining strength, you grabbed Andrealphus by his uniform and pulled him for another kiss again to which the demon complied with pleasure. You moaned at his lips and licked his lips.
You want his tongue inside you again.
You want his hands all over you, yours all over his.
To explore each other until weary for the night.
To adore in each other’s arms.
»»———-  ———-«
A/N: ohemgeeee~~~ Teaa have finished something on tiiiime!! :0 Hurhur~ Happy Happy Valentine to y'all! May you have a good gacha pull, have fun with Beelzebub's butt and last but not least I hope you enjoyed Andrealphus fanfic (´,,•ω•,,)~♡ I feel like... I'll be able to sleep 2night with Andrealphus holding me ( ꈍᴗꈍ)
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candy69gurl · 1 month
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Drink Dalliance
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Shiu Kong x f!reader
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18+, dark, dub/con, use of alcohol, age gap, clit rubbing, pussy eating, raw sex Collab with @prashanddash
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“Pretty lady, can I get you a drink?” Shiu chuckled
You bit your lower lip before replying, "I mean, if you want."
He noticed the lip bite and raised an eyebrow. He’s used to women wanting to gain something from him using their bodies, so he gave her a once-over.
“I think you want more than just a drink.”
You raised an eyebrow at him and said, "Hmm?"
He grinned. He’s seen this look before; it’s as if she’s trying to act innocent while being the opposite.
“I know what you want; you think that because I look serious and uptight, it would make you the dominant one in this situation.”
You laughed, trying to lighten up the situation.
With a wave of his hand, he would snap his fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “A drink for my lovely lady; she prefers it to be something on the fruity side, I’m assuming?" He chuckled before turning back to you.
"Yes, I'd like that,"  you said, resting your head on one arm on the counter.
A simple wave to the bartender is all he needed to get the drink ordered for her.
When the drink eventually arrived, he handed it to her, watching her as he blew some smoke to his side.
“So, what’s a beautiful lady such as yourself doing here today?”
"I am so bored with life." 
Seeing her bored puts a smile on his face. This is right in his ballpark; he’s dealt with much harder situations and people; this is a cake walk.
He took another drag off his cigarette.
“A pretty girl is bored? No boyfriend around?” He said it in a mock-surprised tone.
"Not really"
He let out a small chuckle; he knew that answer was coming.
“Well, it must be really hard being single, especially for someone as young and beautiful as yourself.”
"I know right."  You took a few sips.
He let out a grunt of amusement. She's taking the drink and conversation just exactly how he thought she would. The ball is in his court, and he'll only let it go if he wants it too.
He smoked his cigarette casually, his gaze following her as she took her sips.
“You must have plenty of guys that would try and hit on you every day, right?”
"What do you think?"
“It's either they are just too shy, or maybe they just don’t think they have a shot?”
"I don't know, I am so tired," you sighed, resting your head on the counter.
He let out a small hum as he watched you rest your head. He kept up his calm demeanour, but inside, it’s as if he knew he had you at his mercy.
He then leaned back on his stool and kept watching.
“Tired, huh?”
He’s quiet for a short moment.
“So, are you out for a night out drinking alone? Or did you come here with friends?”
"Alone"
“Oh, so you actually decided to head out and drink by yourself? It's quite brave of you, don’t you think? You’re a pretty girl, and you come out alone to a bar. It’s like you want to get hit on.”
He said it definitely feels like he’s teasing you at this point. He leaned towards you, removing strands of hair from your face.
Your breathing stopped for a moment as you observed his hand movements. "And why are you here?"
“Me?” He said it with slight amusement. “I just came out to get a drink and look who caught my eye.”
He chuckled as he leaned back on his stool, still keeping a firm gaze on you.
“So, are you going to tell me your name? Or let me guess it.”
"Y/N,"  you replied instantly without letting him finish the full sentence.
“Pretty name,” he said, giving a smile before quickly catching himself.
“You can call me Shiu, by the way.”
"Shiu.. mhm"
He was looking at you, taking in your features. He’s definitely noticing everything about you, trying to mentally put the pieces together behind your looks.
“Hey. Are you alright? It looks like alcohol has gotten into your cerebellum, huh?”
You nodded, looking at him with a hazy gaze.
“You’re so quiet, aren’t you? I bet you like when others take control, huh?”
He smirked. He’s got you figured out already, or at least this is what he’s letting on.
"Depends on my mood,"  you replied in a teasing tone.
“Hm. And what kind of mood are you in right now?” He asked, leaning forward slightly. He knew exactly how to push your buttons; he'd seen girls like you before.
You smiled, blushing, still resting your head on the counter. "You're feisty, aren't you?"
He gave you a smirk as he watched you blush. He's so close to what he wanted; he just needs to make a few more moves, and the game is his.
"A little bit," he says back, keeping a smug look on his face.
You get up to regain your original position. "I like it."
"Oh, you do?” He said, grinning, watching her move. He’s keeping his cool, but inside he’s getting a bit more worked up. He’s seen this game played, and he’s confident that soon he’ll have her in the palm of his hands.
“So, would you like to get another drink?” His voice has a bit of a seductive quality to it now, and he’s definitely turning that flirtiness up to a higher level.
"Mhm, I'd like a martini,"  you replied, licking your bottom lip.
Without saying a word, he waved his hand, getting the bartender’s attention. He ordered the martini, which got delivered pretty fast.
He then slid the drink over to her when it arrived; he did so with a smirk, and it looked as if he'd been trying to read her expression the whole time.
“You are already so drunk. You should not drink anymore,” he added, his smirk never leaving his face as he kept teasing his prey.
"You keep offering me, and who's going to turn down some free shots?"
He gave you another grin as he watched you bite your lip.
"Oh, of course, I can't turn down free shots," he said mockingly, his smirk never leaving his face as he leaned up. "But I also don't think someone like you should be getting any more drunk than you are right now," he added. He's playing this to the very end.
"And why do you think that?"
"If you get any more drunk, I may end up taking you home with me," he said, that smirk still never leaving his face.
"Take me,"  you replied, pouting and tilting your head to the side.
He let out a scoff at how easy she was playing into his hands.
"Both ways?" he asked smugly.
You smiled sheepishly and said, "Yes."
He leaned up slightly and offered his hand.
"Well, then, shall we head out?"
"Then follow me," he said as he got up from his stool and headed out of the bar. He grabbed her hand and helped her off her stool, keeping a tight grip before nodding to the bartender, and he lead her out of the bar, a light smirk on his lips as he watched her. He's getting everything he wanted.
You both stumbled out of the club, hands urgently exploring each other's bodies as yall made your way to his apartment. The anticipation hung thick in the air, a heady mix of need and longing that threatened to consume them both. Once inside, you both wasted no time, clothes discarded in a frenzy of desire.
Shiu pushed you against his appartment wall, his hands roaming greedily over your curves. You moaned softly, arching into his touch as he teased your sensitive skin. And then, his fingers brushed against the smooth, bare skin of your thighs, then to your clad clit
A moan escaped your lips as you grinned wickedly, your eyes smoldering with desire. He took no time to take off your panties. He teased your clit and your entrance which was which was already glistening due to wetness.
"Fuck," Shiu groaned, his desire spiking at the sight of your bare and ready for him. Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees, his lips trailing hot, wet kisses up your inner thighs. You gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as he teased your, his tongue flicking lightly against your throbbing clit.
You were dripping with need, your body trembling with anticipation as he finally buried his face between your legs. You cried out, your back arching off the wall as he lapped at your hungrily, his mouth hot and insistent against your sensitive flesh.
"Please," you begged, your voice a desperate plea as you rocked your hips against his mouth, needing more, needing him inside you.
Your hands tried to take off your dress as his tongue plunged into your hole. As you were near, he leaned back and stood up, towering over you.
"Not gonna let you cum now", he kissed you letting you taste yourself on his tongue, his hand easily slided off your dress, freeing your breasts and your nipples got hard immediately. He grabbed your hair tilting your head, exposing your neck to his gaze. He sucked your neck hard, enough to leave marks, your continuous moans song to his ear as he his tongue brushed down your neck to your breasts, latching on to your breast while one of his hand squeezed the other nipple and his other hand reached your clamping folds.
He inserted his finger, your body shook through his invasion.
"Please I want- I have to cum."
"Don't worry baby, you get to cum on my cock"
And he scooped you in his arms and took you to his bedroom, laying you on the bed, he lined himself up with your entrance.
With a primal growl, Shiu thrusted into your, the exquisite sensation of being filled to the brim making your cry out in ecstasy. He moved in a wild, frenzied rhythm, the sound of your moans mingling with the slap of skin on skin. You were close, so close, your body on the edge of oblivion as he pounded into your relentlessly. And then, with a cry of your name on his lips, you shattered around him, your walls clenching tight around him as you rode out your orgasm.
Shiu slowed his thrusting, grunting by the way your pussy milked him. His orgasm followed soon after, hips jerking erratically as he spilled himself inside your, your bodies locked togetyour in a passionate embrace. He clung to each you, as you tremble. The aftershocks of your and his climax rippled through.
Breathless and sated, he sank to the bed next to you in a tangled heap of limbs and desire, your bodies still humming with the echoes of their passion.
"Gon' make you my wife", he planted a small kiss on your temple as you passed out on his bed.
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fabricated-misslieness · 10 months
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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: miles morales x hispanic male reader (featuring my accent)
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ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you're speaking spanish and he can hardly understand.
ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 635 ~ established relationship
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing, kissing, miles sitting on your lap
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ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: if i miss any tildes just know im not a man who paid attention to his tilde classes and also the difference between por que and porque and when they have tildes (dont think too hard about the wingdings)
☾⋆☆⋆☽
Was it wrong to admire him? Maybe it was, you didn't know; staring at strangers was wrong, but this was your boyfriend.
Miles had an effect on you. You couldn't quite name it, especially not when he asked. You just knew it had you staring, staring at his wide smiles or his expressive eyebrows or how he looks like when he's focused on drawing. You often stared when he wasn't looking, but when he was, when he returned your gaze, offered you an automatic smile, raised a teasing brow, you couldn't help but to kiss him.
But, for now, you were just looking, admiring. You could only imagine how dopey you looked right now. It's probably hilarious.
"E'te man me tiene loco." (This man drives me crazy.)
"What?"
You shake yourself out of your stupor, "Nothin'. Keep drawin'."
"No, no, dijistes algo." ((you) said something.)
"Ahahaa, no." You try to laugh it off, but Miles can see in the way that you tense up that he's right.
"Mira yo se que me mientes." He lifts himself off his seat, pointing a finger at you. (Look, I know you're lying to me.)
You cringe internally at the fact he didn't pronounce his r correctly but continue on. You raise your hands in feigned surrender, "No sé de que me 'tas hablando." (I don't know what you're talking to me about.)
"Me 'tas? Metas?" The confusion was visible on his face, which was frankly adorable, "Like goals?"
"No, mi amor," Miles sits himself down on your lap–so casually–and you take the opportunity to wrap your arms around him. The normality of it makes you relax again. "I mean to say, "me estas", but because of my accent, I cut out the "es"."
"So just say "me estas"." He replied, like it was that simple.
You roll your eyes, "I don't think about the way I say things all the time, you know. Just like how you forgot to roll your r's."
"I did not!" He shouts, pretending like he's offended.
"Oh, but you did."
"Ok, mira, carrro," He exaggerates it for you, "carrrrrro." (Ok, look, carrr. carrrrrr.)
"Okay, okay, now remember it."
"Whatever." He scoffs, "You've been deflecting."
"Have I?" You bring a hand up to fiddle with the unshaven hair at the back of his neck in the hope of distracting him.
"Yes." He digs his accusatory finger into your chest, turning the tables on you and your criticism of his shit Spanish. "Ey, stop trying to distract me."
You don't drop the hand but you stop playing with his hair, "Lo siento." (I'm sorry.)
"Dime lo que dijistes." (Tell me what you said.)
"Dijiste." You correct.
With a groan, he says it correctly. "Dijiste."
"Dijequemetienesloco." You say fast. It was a bit embarrassing to admit it, even with the many times that he's caught you staring.
Combined with his bad Spanish and how fast you said it, Miles did not understand a single word. "Dijek met ien lowcou." (👎︎♓︎🙰♏︎❑︎◆︎♏︎❍︎♏︎⧫︎♓︎♏︎■︎♏︎⬧︎●︎□︎♍︎□︎)
"What language are you speaking?"
"That's what you said." He laughs. "But seriously the curiosity is killing me!"
"Fine..."
He fiddles in your lap excitedly as he anticipates your words.
"Me tienes loco." (You drive me crazy.)
They were simple words but he didn't understand them. "I have you crazy? Do I drive you mad? Do you think I'm that annoying?"
Stuck in your own embarrassment, you ignore his rambling and begin your own, "I mean I actually said "Este man me tiene loco" but you know it's practically the same thing and you'd complain about me calling you man porque it's so impersonal and–" (This man drives me crazy.)
Meanwhile he's over here still trying to figure it out, until, "Wait it's "You make me crazy!". Ohhh."
You prepare yourself for teasing but are instead met with a soft little kiss.
"I drive you crazy, huh?" Miles smiles one of those smiles you always adore.
"Yes." There would be teasing later, you were sure of it, but for now you relished in kissing him. You couldn't have enough of him.
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kissitbttr · 4 months
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oh em gee do you think reader and miguel would be homecoming and queen?!?1!1 judging from their reputation from what i’ve read i feel like they’d defo win the titles tbh. imagine them winning it thoo 🥹🥹
“what do you mean i won?” you mutter to yourself as you look around, all eyes are now set on your frozen figure,
“oh my god this is actually crazy. homecoming queen has always been from sorority girls, never a cheerleader. babe you’re making a history!” gloria squeals, squeezing your hand,
this can’t be happening. you didn’t even know that you made it to the candidates list!
miguel, who’s already standing on stage with a big smile on his face and a crown perched on his head. hands clapping louder than the people in the room, mainly cheering for himself because now he doesn’t have to worry about dancing with a random girl.
gloria nudges you in the elbow to get you moving, making you glare at her but your legs finding themself to begin walking towards the stage. with a nervous yet awkward smile, you nod your head to some who congratulates you.
you even catch some of the sorority girls giving you a disgusting look while whispering to each other.
‘fuck. you’ you mouth before blowing a sarcastic kiss, catching them by surprise,
miguel chuckles at your attitude, internally patting himself in the back for having a sassy girlfriend. your gaze move to his, and in seconds your smile turn into a genuine one. big beautiful eyes smiling at him too,
it’s amazing how he can easily tell the difference between your fake and reals ones, isn’t it?
as you begin walking up to the stage, miguel goes breathless. raking his eyes up and down your body shamelessly. he thinks that you look gorgeous every day but tonight is different.
a very simple yet elegant, golden satin dress that hovers just a little bit above the ankles. a slit on the left of your thick thigh, giving him the perfect view of his favorite features from you. the v cut of the dress, giving him a perfect view of your plump breasts. long hair settles into its natural flow.
overall, you look like an angel. and he has a hard time keeping his eyes off of you.
“your homecoming queen and king, ladies and gentleman!” the host announces, making the crowd erupt in cheers,
you giggle at how gloria and beck cheering for you the loudest, giving them a wave. then you finally look over to the side only to see miguel is already entranced with you. his eyes taking you all in. if a gaze could speak, it would tell you that not enough words in dictionary could describe how perfect you look tonight, and how he still needs to wrap around the fact that he gets to call you his.
“why are you looking at me like that?” you smile when he reaches out to slides his hand between yours, pulling you to him,
he shrugs, guiding you down to the dance floor. “you just.. fuck… how is it possible, mi amor? para lucir así de perfecta”
your cheeks warms under his gaze. “i-i don’t know”
“speechless aren’t we?” he pulls a joke, making you roll your eyes,
“don’t make me even more nervous. this feels weird” you confess, his arms move down to your hips. “did you put my name on the ballot or something?”
“i didn’t i swear.” he shakes his head, “but that sounds like something i would do”
“i know” you rest your chin on his chest as you both slowly sway side to side. the song ‘one sweet day’ by mariah carey and boyz ii men playing in the background. both of your favorites.
something, somehow comes over miguel. the way your beautiful eyes glinting with love while looking up to him, soft smile perches on your pretty lips. the crowd circling around the two of you, watching the beautiful couple sharing a dance as a newly wed and—
wait. shit
newly wed?
“thinking quite hard there, baby” you drop a comment at the way his eyes seem to look.. gone. “care to elaborate?”
“just… this” he gestures,
“us dancing? why?” your hands on his chest now, head tilting to the side in curiosity,
“it’s like taking a glimpse of us getting married someday” he blurts out,
and there’s where you feel your heart fails to find a steady rhythm of its beat. his eyes wander across the room, mentioning a couple of things about how he would love it if ice sculptures didn’t make it at yours and his wedding. he thinks it’s useless,
you guess he can’t exactly spot the look on your face being both stunned and warmed by his confession. too busy taking notes on what you both should and should not have at the reception.
he.. thought of getting married ? to you ?
“would you like that, muñeca? white and pink flowers too. for the decorations. they would look so pretty”
all of these words jumping off his mouth seems like nothing to him, because maybe he thinks of it as one that he is so sure of and that you would probably agree with.
but little does he know, it’s everything to you. and you are trying your best to act your cool
“as long as i get to pick the flavor of the cake” you smile up at him
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flowersandbigteeth · 5 months
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Meeting your Changeling Boyfriend
A/N: This is a mostly complete, somewhat somber yandere story with some complicated emotions, flawed characters, and NSFW parts. I'll post the parts over a couple of days to not spam
Changeling (Clark) x Flower nymph f Reader
General Plot: You wake up in a strange place and meet a friendly changeling who is happy to help you adjust to your new home
TW: future nsfw, domestic violence, isekai, yandere, jealousy, fairy prejudices
Word Count: 6k
Next part will be posted soon.
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You woke with a start, your eyes flying around the room you were in. This wasn’t your bedroom. Bolting upright, you took in the space you were in frantically. The walls were roughly hewn boards sealed with grout. You were lying on a lumpy feather mattress under a thread-worn quilt. A small woodstove in the corner warmed the room with a few dying coals. 
“Where? What?” you murmured, confused. 
Looking down, you realized you wore a long blue dress with a bow collar. It was simple but fit you well and was a pretty contrast to your skin. 
This was not your home. These were not your clothes. The last thing you remembered you’d gone to bed in your pajamas. You pinched your wrist, wondering if this was a dream, but no matter how hard you pinched, you didn’t wake up. 
Something smelled of jasmine, and you patted your hair, finding it wasn’t braided as you usually did before bed. It was also much longer than it had been, and vines of jasmine were worked through it. The length fell to just above your bottom in luxurious, thick piles. Trying to pluck one of the pieces of jasmine out, you winced as it stung, a drop of blood forming on the cut tip. The jasmine was growing out of your head! 
You hurried to your feet, hoping to find a mirror. There was a small bathroom with a metal tub, washbowl, and chipped mirror. Blinking at yourself, you found that you were still you. You had the same features as you’d gone to bed with, the same skin, only now you had jasmine winding through your hair. Pretty silver hair cuffs decorated with little pearls and shells shined in the candlelight.  Glancing at the tub, you found a few colorful bottles of oils, pots of cream, and a cake of soap that smelled like shea butter. 
You jumped at a large banging from nearby and hurried out of the bathroom. Making your way through the small one-story cottage, you opened the heavy wood door. A man was standing in front of you. He was quite tall, with dark, blue-black hair that was braided down his back and smokey gray eyes. Two pointed ears peeked out from the loose strands of his hair. 
“Good morning (Y/N)!” he said with a smile. 
“Do I know you?” you asked, utterly confused. 
You peeked past him at the forest surrounding the house. A field of beautiful flowers and juicy vegetables was enjoying the sunshine, butting up to a thick woodland. The man’s brow drew, and he looked at you more closely. 
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked. 
You shook your head. 
“I don’t know you…or…this,” you stammered, waving your hand at the field of flowers. “Where am I?” 
The man’s eyebrows jumped, and he looked around nervously before pushing past you into the house. 
“Are you playing a joke, (Y/N)?” he asked. 
You shook your head. 
“I went to bed somewhere else and woke up here,” you explained. “I have no idea who you are.” 
He frowned. 
“Oh my,” he hummed. “Have you met anyone other than me?” 
You shook your head. 
“I only woke up a few moments ago,” you said. 
“And all of this is new to you,” he finished your sentence, and you nodded. 
He moved around the small house as if looking for someone, finally coming back to you. 
“I think someone has bewitched you,” he finally concluded. 
You shook your head, confused. Bewitched? What the hell did that mean? 
“Bewitched? Magic isn’t real,” you scoffed. “Who are you anyway?” 
His head jerked back.
“You…don’t know magic?” he asked. 
You shook your head, and his nicely curved lips formed a thin line. 
“You came from somewhere else than Merida?” he asked, and you nodded. 
“I’m from (Y/C),” you said. 
“(Y/C)?” he grunted, rubbing his chin again. 
“Who…are you?” you asked again. 
“Sorry, I’m Clark. You and I have been…friends for many years,” he said. 
“How did I get here?” you asked. “Where is here?” 
He sat down heavily at the small table in the kitchen area. You could see the gears turning in his head as he worked through some inner puzzle. 
"You are in the province of Merida," he explained. "This little village is Alliet." 
Your mind was spinning, and you felt dizzy. 
Clark suddenly stood and helped you to a chair before pumping a cup of water out of a hand pump tap. 
"Here," he said. "Have a drink before you pass out. This must be quite a shock." 
Trembling, you lifted the cup to your lips and took a small sip. The water tasted fresh and sweet. 
"Wh-who am I?" you gasped. "My hair is…different…" 
He gave you a half smile. 
"I suppose the answer to that question is not so much who but what," he said, rubbing his chin. "Does your world have flower nymphs?" 
Your eyes widened. 
"In fairy tales, not in real life," you said. 
"Well, here, flower nymphs are an essential part of the economy," he said, pointing out the window to the lush garden. "You cultivate all of those flowers and sell essences and stems in the village." 
"I don't know anything about flowers," you said. 
"Yes…" he hummed. "Though your magic is still intact, I'm sure. You haven't lost your blooms." 
He nodded to the vines of jasmine falling over your shoulders. 
"How…how do I get back?" You asked, clutching the clay cup in your hand. "I can't stay here." 
A flash of recognition flared in his eyes, but he looked away. 
"I'm afraid you can't," he said. "A soul-swapping spell can only be done once. If people could come and go at will…it could be chaos. Whoever did the spell did it at great expense to themselves. Usually, they require a sacrifice." 
You gasped. 
"Who would have done something like that?" you asked. 
He blinked at you and then shrugged. 
"The other (Y/N) is the most likely culprit," he said. "Perhaps she had something she wished to escape." 
"But what?" you asked. "You said you were friends. You must know-" 
He held up his hand. 
"I cannot guess why she would have done that. Perhaps she simply wanted to experience something new. But that's not the issue at hand…the key issue here is that you need to be introduced to this world," he said, sliding a chair next to you and sitting down. "I'm happy to help." 
You chewed your bottom lip, completely at a loss. If Clark was willing to help you, you were sure you should let him. He said he was the old (Y/N)'s friend. 
"Aren't you sad?" you asked. "You lost your friend. She ran away!" 
He sighed and gave you a sad smile. 
"The old (Y/N) was always troubled. I'm sorry it is at your expense, but I'm glad she found where she wanted to be," he said. "I hope your world is all she dreamed it would be." 
You blinked at him, wondering if you should tell him that Texas was not exactly a paradise. She would probably end up in a hospital if she ran around trying to do magic.
Deciding not to, you got straight to business. "I guess if I'm trapped here, I should learn how things work," you sighed. "I don't expect you to help me for free. You don't know me. I'm sure I can find something to trade." 
His hand raised, and his thumb brushed your cheek. 
"I don't mind helping you," he said. "The village is rather boring, and I'd like to honor my friend."  
"I'll find something for you," you assured him, but he only gave you a bemused smile. 
"First things first, we ought to reintroduce you to the village," he said. "This is a small town. People will notice you are not the same. It's best to be direct. We’ll start at the doctor and make sure the soul transfer didn't harm you in any way." 
He stood, but you winced a bit. 
"Are you okay?" he asked. "In pain?" 
"No," you sighed. "Just nervous." 
He gave you a wide smile, revealing pointed teeth. 
"Do not be worried," he said. "I'll help you along." 
He held out a hand to you, and you took it. His fingers were long and strong with black nails. 
"Um…can I ask you something?" you asked as the two of you walked down a dirt path leading away from the house you woke up in. 
"You can ask me anything," he said. 
"I don't mean to be rude, but what are you?" you asked. 
He chuckled. 
"Of course, you would wonder," he said. "I’m a changeling.” 
You blinked at him. 
“Oh…I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means,” you said. 
He smirked. 
“I’m a type of fae,” he said, and before your eyes, his body morphed into something that looked like an orc, then a wolfman, then back to himself. “I change shape.” 
You gasped, blinking in disbelief. 
“Was that real?” you asked, forgetting yourself entirely and pinching his cheek. 
It felt like normal warm flesh. He gave you a playful smile, pinching your cheek back. 
“Yes, that’s all me,” he said. “I’m also a mage.” 
He held his palm up to the sky, and black fire burst from it. You jumped, squealing, and he quickly put it out. 
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. This must all be very strange and new, hm?” 
You nodded and gave him a wan smile. 
“You’ll get used to it,” he said. 
You looked down at your hands. 
“Can I make black fire?” you asked, and he chuckled. 
“No, no, you are a simple nature spirit,” he explained. “Not to diminish your value. You are extremely valuable; every town wants flower, tree, and water nymphs, but your magic is limited to growing plants and blooming flowers. Most villages take your protection to heart as nature spirits aren’t common and are very delicate.” 
“Oh,” you said, not sure how to process that information. “I don’t feel particularly magical.” 
“It will come to you,” he assured you, taking your hand. 
The sound of people laughing and the creaking of carriages drifted through the trees, and soon you were walking through what looked like a quaint medieval village. Your heart pounded as Clark led you through the hustle and bustle, and you squeezed his fingers. He glanced down at your joined hands, his lips parting before he returned his gaze to the road. 
“Morning (Y/N)!” a man with horns curving over his ears and hooves for feet shouted. 
You gave him a wary wave, not wanting to be rude. Clark winked at you. 
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Once we visit the doctor, word will spread quickly.”
As you walked through the village, magical beings you’d only seen in storybooks went about their day. Fairies with gossamer wings fluttered about, and you even saw a centaur unloading crates off a cart. Clark stopped in front of a little shop with a heart on the sign. 
“Here we are,” he said, nudging you inside with a hand on your waist. 
You noted that the office was very messy, with books and scrolls filling the tables and shelves. 
“Doctor Meriel!” Clark called deeper into the building. 
“Be right there!” a female voice shouted, and a few moments later, a tall, lithe woman with pointy ears and pink skin appeared. 
Her white hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head. If you had to guess, based on your knowledge of fantasy books, you’d guess she was an elf. 
“Oh, hello (Y/N),” she said, then glanced at Clark.
Her eyes drifted down to your hands entwined, and she frowned slightly.
“Clark... Is everything okay?”
“I think we should speak in an examination room,” he said, and she nodded, waving him back. 
This room was spotless compared to the front office. Clark nodded for you to sit on the examination table, and he turned his attention to the doctor. 
“(Y/N) has gone through a soul swap,” he explained. “This (Y/N) comes from…”
He looked at you. 
“(Y/Country),” you filled in. 
Dr. Meriel’s mouth fell open, and she hurried over to you, her lips forming a deep grimace. 
“Oh dear,” she hummed, looking you over. “That can be jarring on the body. Who would have done such a thing?” 
She pulled a wand out of her coat, and the tip glowed. 
“Follow the light,” she said, holding it in front of your eyes. 
You followed her directions as she examined your vision, ears, and throat. 
“My guess is our (Y/N),” he said, and she turned to look at him, an eyebrow raising. 
“You don’t suppose it was because of Harri?” she asked. 
Clark shrugged. 
“Who is Harri?” you asked. 
Dr. Meriel gave you a worried look. 
“Um…he used to be a member of our village. He left for the capital to join the King’s guard,” she explained. “Goddess bless us. I certainly hope he stays there.” 
“Why?” you asked, and her mouth opened and closed.
She and Clark exchanged a glance. 
“Harri…isn’t a nice fellow,” Clark explained. “But you don’t need to be worried about him. He’s gone.” 
“Oh,” you said, wondering why they all seemed so concerned. “I’m sorry.” 
They both looked at you, miffed. 
“Why are you sorry?” Clark asked. 
You wrinkled your dress under your fingers, your eyes getting a little misty. 
“I feel like the other (Y/N) was well-loved,” you said. “I feel like I stole her from you.” 
“No, no, no, no, no,” Dr. Meriel said, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Don’t think that, dear. Of course, I’m sad that she is gone, but it’s not your fault. In fact, I’m a little angry with her. She forced you into a soul swap against your will. It…doesn’t seem like something she would do…but perhaps she felt desperate. It was not fair to drop you into this world so abruptly. Many people don’t handle that shift well. People go mad, convinced their world isn’t real. It can…get messy. What she did was quite cruel.” 
“Am I going to go crazy?” you asked, and she gave you a sympathetic smile. 
“I think if you’ve gotten this far and not melted down, you should be okay,” she said. “Most people lose it the moment they are presented with an entirely new world. However, if you begin feeling…off…please return. There are therapies we can try to help.” 
“Is she okay…physically?” Clark asked. 
Dr. Meriel sighed. 
“Yes, she appears to be perfectly fine,” she said. “I’ll inform the mayor that we will be welcoming a new (Y/N) into our town. It’s best you take things slow. Don’t try to do too much all at once. The last thing she needs is more stress. Perhaps save the introductions until the village has been informed of her…condition.” 
Clark nodded and helped you off of the examination table. 
“You can come back to my house, and we can have lunch,” he said. 
“Thank you, doctor,” you said to the elf before Clark shuffled you outside. 
“(Y/N)!” a cheerful orcess squealed the minute your feet touched the cobblestone of the main avenue. 
She picked you up and spun you around in her arms. 
“I was just at your house!” she said, glancing behind you at the clinic. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?” 
You looked up at the tall female, her thick dark hair falling over her shoulder and her head shaved close on one side. 
“I-I’m sorry…I don’t-” you mumbled, not sure what to say. 
You had no idea who this person was, but they obviously knew the old (Y/N) very well. 
“Neia!” Clark said. “This…this isn’t (Y/N). Well, the (Y/N) you knew.”
Neia’s brow furrowed, and her face took on a thunderous look. 
“What the hell does that mean?” she barked, her large fists on her hips. “(Y/N) and I have been friends since we were kids. You know that. I think I know what my best friend looks like.” 
Clark put a hand on her arm. 
“Dr. Meriel was going to announce it to the town all at once, but the old (Y/N) performed a soul swap,” he said. “I’m sorry Neia, the (Y/N) you knew is gone.” 
Neia’s mouth fell open, and her eyes grew shiny. 
“That’s not true! You’re joking,” she turned to you, and you trembled under her gaze. “You know me! Tell me you know me!” 
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, looking at your feet. “I’ve never met you before. I don’t really understand where I am.” 
Neia’s face fell.
“But…I’m your best friend,” she said, her voice scratchy with tears. “You wouldn’t…she wouldn’t do that without telling me!” 
“I’m sorry Neia,” Clark said gently. “That’s the way it is.” 
Her eyes narrowed on him, frowning. 
“(Y/N) would never do that,” she said, crossing her arms. “It couldn’t be. Someone else did this to her!” 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I’d go back if I knew how, I promise.”
She blinked at you, her face softening slightly. 
“I-I’m sorry…I- this is probably terrifying for you…” she hummed, brushing a large hand over your head. “I just…I can’t believe-” 
Again, her gold eyes focused on Clark, full of mistrust. 
“I don’t believe (Y/N) would do that herself, Clark. I don’t buy it for a second,” she snapped. “Goddess, bless whoever the culprit is when I find them!” 
“We all just have to get used to it,” he said, shortly. “I miss (Y/N) too, but think of her feelings. This is all new to her. Please treat her kindly.” 
Neia huffed. 
“Of course I’m going to treat her kindly,” she hissed, then looked down at you, lifting your drooping chin with a finger. “You ought to come home with me.” 
She glared at Clark, then glanced at you, holding out a hand. 
“You shouldn’t be left alone with him,” she said. “My family knew the old (Y/N) well and can care for you. This one can’t be trusted!” 
You blinked at her, not sure what to say. You knew nothing about the social life of the old (Y/N). Would she have mistrusted Clark as well? You had no way of knowing except that the doctor hadn’t seemed concerned that you were together. 
“I don’t want to be rude,” you muttered, “but I don’t know you.” 
Her head snapped back as if you’d slapped her. 
“How long have you known him?” she asked. “A few hours at most?” 
“I-um…” you mumbled, unsure what to say. 
“You’ll get plenty of time with her,” Clark hissed. “She’s only just arrived, and you’re confusing her! The doctor said to keep introductions minimal until she’s informed the town. You’re not questioning Dr. Meriel, are you? She left her in my charge.” 
Neia frowned but pointed a finger at Clark. 
“You’re lucky Dr. Meriel is a kind soul, or I would carry her back with me on my shoulder,” she snapped. “If I catch you mistreating her, I won’t hesitate to end you. Doctor’s orders or not.” 
“Um…thank you for your concern,” you murmured, trying to diffuse the situation. “And…I’m sorry for your loss.” 
Neia gave you a sad smile. 
“Still a kind nymph, even from another universe,” she murmured. 
She shouldered past Clark, sure to knock him over with her bulk. He looked after her, annoyed, as he brushed himself off, getting to his feet. 
“Damn orcess,” he muttered under his breath. 
“She doesn’t seem to like you much,” you pointed out. 
He sighed and drew up a smile for you. 
“Changelings aren’t well-liked,” he said. “It’s a stereotype that we’re all spies and thieves. Neia always hated me. We’ve all grown up together…but her parents told her I was bad when her dad found me in the woods the same day she lost her younger sister during birth and…well, the legend is changelings steal babies. It’s all nonsense.” 
“I guess racism exists everywhere,” you sighed, feeling sad. “It must have been so hard to grow up as an orphan.” 
He gave you a long, gentle look. 
“Yes…it was difficult,” he agreed. “But that’s enough sad stories. I owe you lunch.” 
He pulled you by your hand through back allies, avoiding any more villagers, until you reached a small castle, much grander than any of the other buildings. It was built with bright blue stone, and people wandered around the courtyard doing chores dressed in navy uniforms. 
“This is where you live?” you asked, and he smiled as he pulled you through the front door. 
“Built it myself,” he said. “Being a mage is a rather prolific occupation.” 
“It’s beautiful,” you commented. 
He led you into the foyer, which was decorated with lovely, carved wood furniture and large tapestries depicting mythical beasts. You stopped at one, brushing your fingers over the gold threads. 
“This is all like it’s out of a dream,” you murmured. 
You felt the heat of Clark’s chest behind you and his arms wrapped around you. 
“I wish I could make it easier for you,” he said quietly, kissing the top of your head. 
You sucked in a breath, and the scent of incense filled your lungs. 
“You smell nice,” you murmured, and he gave you a squeeze before pulling you by your hand to what must have been the dining room. 
“What sort of things do you eat at home?” he asked, and you thought for a moment. 
“Most everything,” you said. “Meat and vegetables, rice, bread…the normal stuff, I guess.” 
He nodded and grinned. 
“Got it,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen. 
A few moments later, the scent of roasted meat drifted to you, and a short man emerged with two plates full of what looked like a roasted bird and some toasted roots. 
“That was so fast,” you commented. “But it looks delicious.” 
“Magic,” he said as he took his seat nearby. 
The man bowed to him silently and disappeared. You looked down at the food, unsure where to start. 
“Is something wrong?” he asked, frowning. 
You shook your head and blushed. 
“Is…is it okay to eat food with magic in it?” you asked, and he blinked at you before bursting into laughter. 
“There’s no magic in it,” he chuckled. “I just used magic to make it cook faster. It’s very safe. I’d never feed you something that would harm you, (Y/N).” 
You nodded, feeling rude. 
“Of course, you wouldn’t,” you said, taking a bite of the chicken. 
It was delicious, seasoned with rosemary. 
“Thank you so much for all your kindness,” you hummed, feeling happier the fuller your belly got. 
He gazed at you with a smile on his face. 
“I’ve waited so long to spoil you,” he murmured, and you blinked at him. 
“You have?” you asked, and he straightened, appearing as if he hadn’t meant to say that. 
“It’s nothing,” he muttered, then changed the subject. “I’ve been wanting to visit the capital to do some business. Perhaps you’d like to join me and see more of the countryside?” 
You had nowhere else to be and were curious to learn more about this land, especially what a city looked like. This little town was very different than what you were used to. You also felt very anxious about meeting more of the town, based on how Neia had reacted to you. The people already knew and loved the old (Y/N); you were simply an imposter. 
When lunch was finished, he showed you the many rooms of his mansion, seeming especially proud of his laboratory. 
“This is amazing,” you gasped, looking at the glowing liquids in glass vials. 
He had a real-life cauldron, bubbling away with something smelly inside. The notes he had posted to the wall were written in some strange language. You paused on a small painting sitting on the desk. It was of you. 
“What’s this?” you asked, pointing to the picture, and he blushed. 
“Oh…just a painting I had made long ago,” he hummed. “When I was an orphan, you were my only friend. Nymphs survive rather independently in the old wood. It’s a different place than the forests near our homes. We met when I was hiding from Neia and Harri, and I brought you into town. Convincing the younger you to stay was my path to acceptance in this village. Otherwise, I would have forever been an outsider.” 
“Why did you have to convince me?” you asked, and he sighed. 
“Um…it’s a little complicated. As I said, nymphs can survive easily in the old wood. The animals see you as a flower or a tree and are quite fond of you. That’s where most nymphs stay,” he explained. “They don’t like fussing around with our affairs. Convincing one to move into town and using their magic to support the economy is…challenging. 
You do more for us than we could ever do for you, and you have much more to lose by our hands. The earth, the water, and the forest are filled with wild magic and difficult to tame. Those who venture into the old wood, rarely return. Though I can heat food and conjur fire, I can’t make a meadow bloom or trees bear fruit. No spell I can perform will bring a fruitful harvest or cleanse a poisoned well. Only you can do that sort of magic. Nymphs bring food, plentiful game, and clean, fresh water. Some would capture you and try to force you to do their bidding.” 
“Oh,” you said, chewing your lip nervously. 
“Why did I stay?” you asked, and he smiled wistfully. 
“I’d like to think it was for me,” he said softly, “but I probably will never know the reason. Many things happened since you moved in. It would be hard to explain in a sitting, but that’s enough talk of a past you will never truly understand. We must think of the future now.” 
He hustled you out of his laboratory and out of a rear door, heading down a small path. 
“Where are we headed now?” you asked. 
“To your home,” he said. “You ought to pack. I was thinking we could leave tomorrow.” 
“What about the villagers?” you asked. 
He shrugged, looking away. 
“They don’t deserve you,” he muttered, looking bashful again as if he hadn’t meant to say that. “It will be fine,” he finally decided. “This is about you. Not them. They’ve had years with the old (Y/N). You must choose on your own if you would like to stay. Don’t feel pressured because they want you to be her. You are your own person with your own needs. You may like the capital or wish to return to the wood.” 
He stopped at your front door. 
“I need to go home and make some preparations,” he said. “Pack whatever you like; there is plenty of room for your belongings. We’ll be gone a month at least.” 
You nodded and smiled at Clark. 
“Thank you for your guidance,” you said. “I know Neia had bad things to say about you, but I appreciate your patience with me.” 
He gave you a somewhat sad smile and then folded his body down to peck you on the cheek. 
“Pack and then have a good rest,” he said before turning to head back towards his mansion. “I’ll come get you in the morning.” 
You spent the evening sorting through the old (Y/N)’s belongings. They were simple enough, clothes, potions for your skin and hair, combs, and other utilitarian items. You hoped you’d find a journal or some other diary to learn more about her, but there was nothing like that. 
By the time the sun set, you’d filled a bag with the clothes you’d found in a chest and whatever pots and bottles seemed useful. 
You were just about to lay down for bed when you heard the front door open. Heavy footsteps moved through the front room, and scared, you hid in the small closet. 
“(Y/N)?” you heard a heavy voice ask. It was not Clark’s, but deeper and more raspy. 
Whoever it was moved through the house slowly before a dark figure blocked the light from your bedroom. A large hand jerked you out of the closet, pulling you into the light. 
“Why are you hiding from your own fiance?” the stranger demanded in a sharp bark that made you tremble.
He was much larger than Clark, with gold skin. Shaggy blonde hair fell to his whiskered jaw. Blue eyes bore down on you. Though he was unnaturally large and wide, he looked rather human. 
“Who…who are you?” you gasped. 
He smelled awful, like sweat and burnt tires. 
Your question seemed to infuriate him. 
“What game are you playing (Y/N)?” he shouted, tossing you to the floor. “Hurry up and start some dinner, you stupid wench. I’m starving!” 
“Don’t throw me around, asshole!” you huffed at the man, pulling yourself to your feet. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but no one calls me out my name! Get the fuck out of my house!” 
The man loomed over you, looking furious. His gold skin turned red with rage. He jerked you up in his grasp, tossing you easily into the kitchen. Your shoulder hit the stove, making you shout as pain shot up your arm. 
“Don’t talk back to me, woman!” he snarled, stomping towards you. “I see you haven’t been properly disciplined since I left!”
A heavy hand came down on your cheek, making you see stars. 
“Keep arguing, and you’ll get worse!” he snarled, marching out of the room. 
You had no idea who this man was and didn’t appreciate getting tossed around and beaten. The moment he turned his back, you fled, wiggling out of the kitchen window. It was hard to find in the dark, but you managed to locate the path that Clark had walked you down from his house, sprinting down it. 
When you reached the blue stone building, you banged on the front door, frantically looking over your shoulder to ensure you hadn’t been followed. 
“Miss?” the short man from before asked, dressed in his pajamas when he opened the door. 
“Please, I need help!” you gasped, your cheek and shoulder still aching. “Some man showed up at my house and started tossing me around!” 
His eyes narrowed, and he glanced over your shoulder, hustling you inside. When you were past the threshold, he was certain to drop the large piece of wood that barred the door. 
“Come with me, Miss,” he said. “I’ll wake the master.” 
He set you on a plush couch in the living room and brought you a glass of something that smelled alcoholic. 
“Some brandy to help with the pain,” he said, his eyes dropping on your swollen cheek, then scurried away into the dark house.
A few minutes later, Clark came rushing in, picking you up and examining you from head to foot. 
“Harri came home, didn’t he?” he snarled, looking just as furious as the strange man. “Bastard must have failed his entrance exam.” 
“I don’t know who he was!” you gasped, tears leaking down your cheeks. “He said he was my fiance then slapped me. I climbed out of the kitchen window.” 
“Shhh, shh,” he said, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you toward his laboratory. “I’ve got something to help. I won't let him get to you.” 
He set you down on a chair while he gingerly examined your cheek with his fingers. 
“Who was he?” you asked as he looked through his potions for the right one. 
Clark took a few minutes before he answered. 
“Harri is the mayor’s son,” he said through gritted teeth. “He got it in his head you were meant for him and moved in. The old (Y/N) was incredibly kind. Instead of abandoning the town and escaping to the forest, she accepted him into her home, thinking if she gave him what he wanted, he’d be…kinder…I suppose. They had some sort of…silly moment when they were children that made her heart soft to him. She thought he was a misunderstood malcontent, not the abusive man he is.”
“Then why wasn’t he here when I woke up?” you asked. 
His cool fingers spread a spicy-smelling gel on your cheek. 
“He decided he was good enough for the King’s guard, and he went to take the examination,” he said. “My guess is he failed and came home in a bad mood.” 
“No one stopped him from abusing the old (Y/N)?” you asked, and he looked solemn. 
“He’s not the way he is with you with the rest of the town,” he grumbled. “They see a charismatic, charming man. He hides his temper well, and (Y/N) covered for him. He and Neia are very close. (Y/N) refused to let me…do anything about it. Only Doctor Meriel and I knew because she often treated the old (Y/N)’s bruises. She thought she loved him. She thought she could fix him. The whole town supported the match. They were going to be married when he was accepted into the guard.” 
“Is that why she soul-swapped me?” you asked, and he gave you a long look as if he were thinking deeply about something. “To get away from him without upsetting the town?” 
“Yes, that is likely,” he said but didn’t elaborate. 
“Well, I don’t want to be married to him,” you said, tears filling your eyes again.
“Where else does it hurt?” he asked, looking down. 
You rolled up your sleeve, and he also applied the soothing gel to your shoulder. 
“I won’t let him have you,” he muttered, gazing into your eyes with his stormy irises. 
You heard a banging and winced. 
“Stay here,” he said sharply, and before your eyes dissolved into a puff of smoke. 
You couldn’t just sit there waiting for something to happen, so you hurried back down to the first floor, peering out of one of the windows. Clark was standing in front of him, preventing him from entering
“Hand over my wife, changeling!” Harri barked at Clark.”I know you have her!” 
You would have been frightened to stare down such a massive man, but he seemed unmoved. 
“She’s not your wife,” he snapped back. “(Y/N) knows nothing of you. She doesn’t love you, and I’m sure she hates you after tonight.” 
“Of course she loves me,” Harri hissed. “She’s always loved me! You’re just bitter she didn’t pick you! Bring her out before I break the door down!”
“She came here to hide from you,” he said. “She doesn’t want to go back. You ought to drop this before you get hurt.” 
“Like you could hurt me!” Harri boomed, pulling a heavy sword from the sheath strapped to his back. “I’ve already called the town guard. It’s only a matter of time before we chase you out!” 
Clark chuckled. 
“You know she soul-swapped herself to get away from you,” he said, smug. “The (Y/N) you’ve abused tonight has no memory of the accident that tied you together. The old one left you for another world so she’d never have to see you again.” 
At that, Harri looked hurt before his face returned to a stony grimace.
“You have a lot of nerve calling it an “accident.” Just another one of your lies! All you’ve ever done is lie! I’ve told my father we ought to chase you out, and now I have a reason. This town should have never accepted a filthy changeling to start with!” 
Suddenly Clark morphed into a version of Harri, right down to his big sword. 
"You have a lot of nerve calling it an 'accident'," He jeered, parroting the real Harri's words. "You're just sour your own pitiful attempt to chase me out blew up in your face! The accident was letting you live! You've lost, just accept it."
Harri charged him, sword raised, and before your eyes, Clark transformed into some creature you’ve never seen before. It looked like a ghost floating above the ground but was solid. Long gnarled fingers were tipped with massive claws, and his mouth was impossibly wide, filled with razor-sharp teeth. His red eyes glowed, seeming eager for the fight.  
He easily knocked the sword Harri was clutching out of his hand, long claws slicing his skin like butter. 
You gasped as blood sprayed into the dirt, and the hulk fell to the ground, still hanging on to enough of his pride to glare at his enemy. 
“The town guard is coming!” he gasped, pressing his hand to his chest to slow the bleeding. 
Clark disappeared into a cloud of smoke again and appeared beside you. 
“I told you to stay put,” he growled,  back to his more humanoid form. 
“How could I?” you asked, and his face shifted from annoyance to soft concern. 
“Ready the carriage!” he boomed, his voice echoing through the mansion. “Quickly!” 
Servants appeared from seemingly nowhere, hurriedly packing bags and rallying the horses. 
“We need to leave now,” he informed you, pulling you by your elbow out the door. 
As you passed, you stared at Harri, who was panting in the dirt. 
“(Y/N) please! Whatever he’s told you is a lie!” he shouted at you, his voice losing its volume at the end. “You belong to me! You love me! That changeling has bewitched you!” 
His golden skin was going gray, and his chest heaved. You turned away from him, finding it hard to have sympathy for a man who’d thrown you into a stove the moment he returned home. Clark cradled your head as if to shield you in his arm as he led you to the carriage his staff was preparing. 
“Is he going to die?” you whispered when he’d settled you on the lacquered black carriage bench. 
He plopped down next to you, slapping the side, and you heard the driver click at the horses to drive them forward. 
“Not likely, unfortunately,” he snarled. “The bastard is half ogre. They heal quickly. He’ll tell his father I tried to murder him, however. Which is why we need to leave.”   
“How could the other (Y/N) decide to marry that guy?” you murmured, utterly confused. “He’s horrible.” 
“I don’t understand it either,” Clark said quietly, stroking your head with his arm wrapped around you. “As I said, the old (Y/N) was troubled.” 
He brightened a bit, smiling at you. 
“But you have a whole new life ahead of you, darling,” he said. “There’s no reason for you to live in her past. I should have never let you stay in this village in the first place. You don’t belong here.” 
You gave him a wan nod, leaning into his warm chest. There was so much happening around you that you didn’t understand, but Clark felt like an anchor in the storm. 
“Will they come after us?” you asked, and he shrugged. 
“I bespelled the carriage,” he said. “They cannot see us. You are safe.” 
“But what about all your things?” you asked. “Your laboratory?”
He smiled at you. 
“All of those things can be replaced,” he said. “Your life is far more important. There’s nothing to worry about.” 
“Where are we going?” you ventured, and he looked thoughtful. 
“To the coast, then we’ll take a ship out of Merida,” he explained. “Across the sea, there’s a province named Ilirion where you will be safe. Enough questions; you need to rest.” 
The last four words were said in an odd lilt, and you felt your eyes getting heavy. You notched your head in the crook of his neck, and his arm wrapped around you. You fell asleep, the spicy smell of incense filling your breath. 
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Home is Where His Heart Is
《You are visiting an odd town that isn't on the map.》
《Human Au》
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《Warnings: the subject matter this ARG has are potentially disturbing. Welcome Home was created by Clown and artwork shown by @/partycoffin.》
-
You had decided to use the vacation days you've been saving up. You wanted an adventure, something to make you feel alive and ignore the monstrous strain of your workload for a month.
So here you were, driving to an odd little city that you couldn't recall ever seeing on a map.
The air was sweet and the sky was clearer than in any place you've been to. After driving around for a few hours, you find a cozy little Bed and Breakfast next to a farmhouse.
A young tall woman with colorful short-haired locks greets you timidly at the front desk. Adorn in a simple shawl with a few rainbow feathers here and there on her hair and clothing.
She signs you on the guest list and tells you what your room number was. Handing you a key, before she happily tells you what tonight's dinner would be...
If you'd like to join her for supper that is!
"Sure! I'd love to!"
She happily leads you to a dining area where a few other guests sat. Digging into what you assumed was soup, she and you chat about this town and neighborhood.
Asking her about the "Must sees!" Or any activities that might be happening that you might wanna watch out for.
"Hmm, not much, I'd say... Oh! Actually, the church is holding a festival in a couple of days. That's something to look forward!"
"Have you gone?"
"Almost every year! But I think this one might be my last year, so I'm gonna make it count."
"How so?"
Poppy, is what she asked you to call her, smiles.
"Well, I've been fancying a man for quite some time. So I thought it'd be my last time going solo."
Poppy brings her shawl closer to her chest.
"I'll be turning in, see' you in the morning (Y/N)." The woman said quietly, leaving only a small trail of feathers behind her.
-
After a refreshing sleep, you gaze around your room. Before immediately jumping out of bed and heading to the small balcony in your room.
"This is living, God I needed this so much." You state, fondly gazing at the melting colors in the sky for morning daylight.
You stop daydreaming when you feel your bones become sore from holding your position too long. Stretching your arms behind your head, you yawn.
"Excuse me!"
Startled by the shout, you gaze around the ground below. Falling onto a handsome young man sitting on a small rock with a canvas beside him. Realizing you could be ruining his painting, you shout
"Sorry! I'll leave now!" You call back, slowly backing away from the railing.
The young man hurriedly gets up from his seat, flailing his hands in the air dramatically. Calling for you to wait, which you did.
Listening to the man apologize for bothering you from below the balcony.
"I just came to find some inspiration on this fine day, I didn't mean for it to drive you away."
He calls up to you, thankfully not too loudly. Even if you were on the first floor.
"It's fine... You're fine." You call down, embarrassment evident in your voice. Slowly backing away from the rail. "Uhm, I'll just... Go."
You rush away and back into the safety of the drapes and curtains. Fiddling with the soft fabric, a dreamy smile makes it way on your features.
You think you're gonna love this vocation.
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[Taglist open for a day!]
[Human Au! I just thought what if the puppet show was just a really weird colorful town that is unfamiliar? Fan art, reblogs, hearts and comments are always appreciated!
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