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#the earring's on the wrong side but ����
tisalovestory · 2 days ago
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you've been in a fight, your lover has already gone to bed, without resolving it, but you still whisper ''i love you'' before crawling into bed, because it's something you always do before going to sleep, and this fight doesn't chance anything bonus: your lover isn't actually asleep, and pulls you into their arms + childe :pepehappy:
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A/N: my hands... they fucking slipped :D
Pairing: Tartaglia x reader (reader = traveler ≠ aether/lumine)
Word count: 2629
Warning: arguments, hurt with little comfort kinda, angst kinda
you've been in a fight, your lover has already gone to bed, without resolving it, but you still whisper ''i love you'' before crawling into bed, because it's something you always do before going to sleep, and this fight doesn't chance anything bonus: your lover isn't actually asleep, and pulls you into their arms
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It wasn’t until the door slammed shut and you were left to deal with the aftermaths of the tension that you realised you had never fought with Childe properly before. 
And that was strange, considering that you two seemed to be always fighting to the outside gaze with your blades at each other’s throats and chain reactions of elements setting off where ever you two were seen. It was through fighting that you piqued his interest (and in some way, you wouldn’t have if you were any worse of a fighter) and between the relentless rematches that something other than competitiveness fueled the flames in your equally ambitious hearts. He flirted with you by shooting a charged arrow just narrowly past your neck, you replied invitingly by sending him flying towards the nearest wall. There was no correct way to do a relationship, though the entire world saw the Harbinger and the traveler as a wrong match, and only the two of you knew that you were not “fighting” when you fight.
You had fought him many times, but never like this, never as lovers, and none of the scars you carried as you limped out of Golden House had hurt as much as the silence did now.
The fireplace crackling was the only noise that kept you company, if you could ignore the howling wind that was slamming on the rooftop of the brick house you were in. You felt like you had to do something about the situation at hand somehow but you didn’t think you even want to be around him at this moment which was unfortunate, because the violent frost of Snezhnaya had declared that you had nowhere to run from your issues in the middle of the snow.
How unfortunate that your first fight had to take place when you finally fulfilled your promise in visiting his childhood home.
The fearsome Harbinger’s home was surprisingly cozy, with doodles that were clearly done by young kids hung up right by the dining table and quilted blankets draping over the couch. Your lover was clearly in his element when he was Ajax and not “Childe”, a boyishly genuine grin that was usually only seen when you were along breaking out on his face when a tiny figure rushed into his arms the moment he opened the door. 
Teucer was delighted to see you, even though Childe paled when he almost let slip in front of his poor mother about his adventures in Liyue. Tonia took a natural liking towards you and while Anton was shyer than his siblings, he eventually warmed up to you as well. His parents were especially warm towards you, although his father intimidated you at first. At the side of the packed dining table, you found a feeling that resembled being home as you watched him frantically shush his sister from bringing up the mentions of you in his letters to home. His mother made meat stew and kept putting more on your plate despite your insistence that you ate a lot already. It reminded you of how long you had been traveling when you were suddenly put in the middle of such domesticity, with your lover happily chatting your ear off while holding his youngest brother in his arms to stop the young boy from running around after deciding that dinner was too boring to stay still for.
It was a good time, especially when the kids had gone to bed and his parents so courteously left you two alone in the living room, with warm milk in your hands and blankets draped over your shoulders as you two squished together on one end of the large couch that had fit his entire family just earlier. You didn’t think you had ever seen Childe in such a good mood before, his eyes twinkling as his hands flailed in the air over his stories of growing up in the forests of Snezhnaya. He was practically rambling, cutting in a story that had nothing to do with the previous one when a minor detail reminded him of it. You would have to be honest and say that you were feeling lost with the lack of context you were given at some point of the conversation, as if he had forgotten that you hadn’t been there to see the frozen lake or the Fatui training camps or the cabin in the woods for yourself.
You did not mind, you were not listening to much of what he was saying but rather than smiling at the childlike glee in his eyes as you snuggled closer to his side.
But you tensed up when you heard what he said next.
“Don’t you think it’ll be nice? A house by the lake,” he said as he took your hand, his tone light but all the sincerity in his loving gaze, “you, me, happily married, maybe a kid or two.”
You should have just treated it as sweet nothings, had you known what it would lead to, but at that moment you just couldn’t stop yourself from pulling away. “Ajax...” you stuttered out, but he did not seem to hear you.
“Or none, if you don’t want kids,” he added quickly, “I’ll still be happy if it’s just the two of us.”
“Ajax—”
“Just think about it,” he was deep in his own thoughts, gripping your hand tightly as he chuckled, “tiny versions of you and me running around—”
“Ajax!” you interrupted him, the wire in your head snapping as the thoughts in your head finally got unbearable.”
“What?” he laughed, kissing the inside of your palm, “what it is?”
“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” you muttered.
“What do you mean?” His brows lifted, the easy smile still toying at the corner of his lips. He did not get what you were trying to say. 
“Ajax, I— us— the house and the kids and, and...” you struggled to find the right words to describe the tug of war going through your mind, until settling with the most direct way you could put it, “do you really think that would work out?”
The smile that was plastered on his face stilled, until it faltered while he slowly put down your hand. His lips parted and closed like a fish out of the water, his eyes dropping to his now empty hands as he let out a shaky breath. His shoulders tensed after the meaning of your words registered in his head, tilting his head up as he gave a few hard nods with a purs of his lips.
Childe snorted, covering his crooked and plastic smile behind his fist. It was a bad attempt at hiding his hurt, a clear act of saving face that was on shown for you but more for himself. He looked up at you, with a forged smile that belonged to the 11th Harbinger of Snezhnaya but not your loving Ajax.
The light in his eyes had disappeared, and your heart dropped.
But despite his usual calculation, he failed at pretending to be nonchalant as his voice came out shaking. “You don’t?”
You sucked in a deep breath. “Ajax, that’s not what I meant—”
“Have you never thought about marrying me?” the pitch of his words got harsher as his nostrils flared, “Do you not want to marry me?”
“I just think—” you had grown frantic under his accusing tone, “I just think we need to be more realistic.”
“About what?” his voice got louder, “What is so unrealistic about us having a life together?”
“You know it’s not as easy as that.”
“So you’re just going to give up on trying?”
“No!” you bit back, your tone sharpening without you even noticing, “But you know it’s not just about trying!”
He scoffed, before letting out a nearly maniacal laugh. “I don’t! And I don’t know what it is that made your trust in me so fragile—”
He suddenly stopped, and your heartbeat stopped too. If the conflict had made you on edge, the sudden silence only put your mind at the center of the storm. The man in front of you slowly crumbled, his taunting smile twitching as he forced it to stay on his face when everything clicked in his head.
“Is this about me being a Fatui?”
You did not respond, and that was enough of an answer on its own when you looked away from him. 
“I thought it doesn’t matter,” he sounded oddly calm.
“It doesn’t to me,” and you were telling the truth, “but it’s not just about you and me when the entire world will try to stop us, is it?”
He slowly exhaled, his knuckles hurting at how hard he was clenching down. “You do know I’m ready to give that up at any time if you ask me to?”
“Don’t say that,” you begged, your head hurting when he held onto your shoulder, “you know I can’t make you do that—”
“Will you marry me if I was just a regular man from Snezhanya?”
“I don’t know,” the soreness in your eyes blurred your vision and you hated how squeaky your voice sounded in your ear as you cried, “Childe, I don’t know—”
“Don’t call me that!” He yelled, but paused before jerking backwards when he realised that it was too much. He gulped when your eyes widened, with tears welling up at the corners. His hands that had been gripping on your shoulders dropped at his sides helplessly, his fingers curling and uncurling as his chest heaved.
You wished he had been angier, then at least you could be angry at him too. But he did not look more angry than he did sad, with his features twisting together like he was holding himself back from breaking down.
His voice broke as he sniffed. “Don’t call me that...”
He took a step away from you, looking up at the ceiling as he forced the tears to dry up to no avail. He had never run away, not even going close to doing that when he was one step away from death at any battleground, but he stumbled on his strides when he escaped from where you stood, finally letting out a sob when he knew you could not see him anymore.
The loud bang of the door made you jump and your hands were still shaking from the tension even when the room that had been filled with your screams finally went silent again.
You sighed, slamming down on the couch and closing your eyes when you realised that you couldn’t possibly walk away from this.
Unless you wanted to walk away from the relationship too, but that was the last thing you ever want.
This conversation was inevitable, you just hadn’t expected it to come out like this and for you two to be on such different grounds. Did you want to have a family with him? Of course you did, you thought to yourself bitterly. You just hadn’t dared to risk the little joy you felt fantasying a world of what-ifs that could so easily be crushed by the reality of your divides if you did so little as voice it out.
Which was precisely what you had done to his dream, and you groaned into your hand at how understandable his outburst suddenly became when you had reached the conclusion.
But you couldn’t exactly say you were sorry. You could have definitely worded it better, but what you said was not wrong.
The small clock ticking was the only thing anchoring you as your mind was in a state of blank, the heaviness in your head making your lids sink as your eyes felt dried from all the crying. You were finished with crying, or feeling sad, or panicking, you just felt tired and helpless but with the hand of the clock slowly moving, it reminded you that eventually you would have to deal with the mess you started.
On top of that, the family portraits that were next to the clock were reminding you that you were at his family home and the only room prepared for you was Childe’s room that he had stormed off to. You were not mad at him, and you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him if you really were. It was just hard for you to face him when there was so much uncertainty in the air. You were not sure if sharing one bed after a fight went unresolved was exactly a good option and you couldn’t even say for sure that he wanted you there, but it was either that or sleeping on the couch and letting the entire house know something was up next morning when they found you in the living room and not in his bed.
You shivered at the chill as the firewood slowly burn out on the fireplace, and whimpered into the cushion of the couch.
Fine, it was not like you could avoid this when it was morning again anyways.
The door made an ugly creek when you gingerly opened it, blinking to get used to the darkness as you peeked inside. His childhood bedroom had largely stayed the same since he left for the army at 14, with some illustrations of strange fishes plastered on one wall and a few toy soldiers littered on the shelves. You carefully tiptoed into the room, feeling your way around so you wouldn’t accidentally walk into any corners. 
You sighed when you saw what looked like the silhouette of a big ball on the bed.
You did not need to see it clearly to know that it was him, with his blanket wrapped tightly around his frame on the mattress that really was not suited for a  grown adult like him. The sight of the tall man on the small bed should have been comedic, but your heart softened when you saw the way he curled himself up as tiny as he could like a child.
Because you knew, you knew that he was insecure.
He did not budge when you climbed into the little space that was left next to him, twisting your limbs so that the bed could fit the two of you. You stared at his hunched back, pushing yourself off just a little with your elbow.
You did not dare to look at his face, you were afraid that it’d break you if he looked distressed in his sleep.
“I love you,” you whispered as you kissed the back of his head, lingering a little before crawling onto your spot.
Unbeknown to you, Childe failed to fall asleep even as he wrapped himself under the sheets. He was on high alert the moment he heard the door opening, his senses overloading with each step you took and each sounds you made. He nearly couldn’t hold himself back from flinching when the mattress dent under your weight, struggling to hold back a shiver when your freezing cold feet brushed against his calf as you wiggled around.
He almost started tearing up again when he heard the tiny “I love you”, but he held it in.
“But not enough for the world,” he thought, and if he was just a bit more spiteful then he would have said it out loud. But he couldn’t, he didn’t have the heart to make you even sadder, not when he knew you were not wrong, despite that making his chest ache even more.
So he didn’t say anything, not trusting his words to carry the weight of his feelings, and only turn around to swing his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him in the only times when the world was just you and him.
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katsuphilia · a day ago
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𝐌𝐇𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐄𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: shinsou hitoshi, katsuki bakugou, aizawa shota, takami keigo, dabi
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: repost from my old blog
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✿ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐔 froze when you grabbed his face, pulling him towards you as you pressed kiss after kiss all over every inch, giggling in between each one as you watched his cheeks turn bright red. Clearing his throat, he looked at the ground, hands hesitantly placing themselves onto your waist. “W-what was that for?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until he was just millimeters away from meeting your lips with his own. “Just thought you might want some kisses. They’re good for your health, you know,” you grinned cheekily. Closing the gap, you kissed him deeply, humming when his thumb traced circles into your hip. He pulled away after some time, burying his face into your neck and squeezing you gently against him. “Yeah, whatever.”
✿ 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 wasn’t expecting you to place yourself on his lap, hands immediately finding your hips as you cupped his jaw. Before he could smirk at you and say something, he froze as you pressed tiny kisses all over his cheek, moving on to the next one before placing one last one on the tip of his nose. “Your cheeks are so cute, Katsuki. So squishy,” you teased as you poked it. Glaring at you, he swatted your hand away, blush rising to the tips of his ears. “What the hell is wrong with you, dumbass?” Giggling, you pressed your forehead to his, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb gently. “You don’t like my kisses?” He rolled his eyes, but gently, he placed a small kiss of his own onto your cheek, hugging you closer. “No, you’re annoying.”
✿ 𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀 was just waking up in the morning, eyes slowly opening when he felt your hand move a few strands of hair out of his face, a sleepy grin spreading across his lips. “Good morni—” he didn’t get to finish speaking before you tilted his chin up, pecking his lips first, and then littering more kisses across his face. His gaze softened when you beamed at him, closing his eyes once more when you stroked his hair gently. “Morning, Shota.” He gave you a warm chuckle, sighing at the feeling of you scratching his scalp. “That was a nice little surprise to wake up to. What’s the occasion?” Pressing your forehead to his, you gently traced the scar under his eye with your index finger. “I missed you while you were sleeping,” you whispered, pressing yet another kiss to his lips right after.
✿ 𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐒 smirked when you took the goggles off his face, setting them down on the counter behind you as you cradled his cheeks in both hands. Slowly, you kissed the small bruise forming on his jaw before pressing more across his jawline, moving your way upward until you reached his forehand. “Don’t stop now, dove. It won’t heal properly if you don’t give me more.” Giving him a soft smile, you traced the edge of the bruise, eyes lingering on it before you met his gaze once more. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” His eyes softened as he noticed the way you were worried, pretending to ponder for a moment before answering. “Depends, are you gonna kiss it better? Because then my entire face is bruised.” You rolled your eyes, but began pressing more kisses to his face anyway, content with him being safe and back in your arms.
✿ 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈 stilled when you kissed the edge of his scar, tensing as he felt you trailing down the line where the healthy skin met the charred, pecking in between each staple. Pulling away, he stared at you for a moment, eyes narrowed and shoulders tense. “What are you doing?” You smiled gently, trailing your hand up his chest, rubbing it softly with your palm. He almost let his guard down for a second, watching your movements carefully. “Just kissing you, Dabi. I love you.” He stared at you for a few moments, eyes searching yours for truth, finding nothing but sincerity in them. Swallowing, he looked to the side, gripping your waist tightly and pulling you flush against his chest. “That’s fucking weird. Give me a few more.”
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reblogs are really appreciated !!
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allfiguredout · 2 days ago
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I'm Not Smiling
Yelena Belove X Fem! Reader
Warning: mild language
Prompt: hi! can I have some yelena X fem!reader action? maybe something like yelena likes r and natasha accidentally makes yelena blurt it out in front of r without noticing? thanks
Type: Fic
WC: 1.5k
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A/N: I could literally write this trope for like a bunch of other characters and never get tired of it. I hope you enjoy this one anon :)
I don’t own these Marvel characters.
___________________________
Yelena wasn’t really known for understanding her feelings. At such as young age, she was practically trained to push away any connection she would and could have with other people. Natasha would be the exception because she had grown up with her. That’s why when she had joined that Avengers as another teammate, she wasn’t expecting to feel a “connection” between any other members. Well, until you had come around. You were someone to be interacted with at first sight. From what Yelena could observe, she notices how very much liked you were by the whole team, and from what Natasha has told her, you were practically the glue that held the team together. You were the only person in the whole team who has never gotten on anyone’s bad side and that was for good reason.
You were friendly with Yelena, clearly showing that you trusted her with your whole heart. You made it clear to her that you had no guards up against her, being as open as possible to whatever Yelena’s wants and needs were. For Yelena, this affection and care had hit her deep within her heart. You were a genuinely caring person, something that she had lacked so much growing up. And seeing the way you would always check up on her after a mission of hers or yours made her heart flutter and beat rapidly. When you two started having movie nights together, the way you laughed was starting to become music to her own ears.
Though her favorite nights were when you two would just sit in the living room and talk. The two of you would talk for hours. In the beginning, there was some distance between the two of you, but in less than six months, she was already laying on your lap as you gently brush the knots out of her hair. It was the best feeling for her, honestly. To feel every single bone in her body relax as you hold her this close. If she could stay in this moment forever she would. Maybe she could get that doctor guy to do it for her, just keep rewinding this moment so Yelena could have more time to gaze at the way your eyes light up, the way your lips curve into a smile, the way your eyebrows would furrow together and you’d make that cute confused look on your face.
It was after a mission when Natasha had confronted Yelena. Before you had left for your mission earlier, Natasha had witnessed Yelena almost attack Wanda because apparently “playing as a couple” during a mission was considered “unprofessional” by Yelena’s standards. If it weren’t for Wanda profusely telling Yelena that it was just a mission and you gripping Yelena’s arm to get her to calm down, Yelena would’ve possibly blown up the facility.
After giving Yelena time to cool down, which had taken a good couple of hours, Natasha had gone to confront her sister over the situation.
“There is nothing wrong,” Yelena argues.
“Really?” Natasha asks.
“Yes, I am perfectly fine,” Yelena replies harshly. She begins walking towards her sleeping quarters.
Before Yelena could hide her feelings in her room, Natasha grabs the assassins’ shoulder. “Hey! Let me go!”
“You were jealous,” Natasha concludes.
Yelena pauses for a moment. Of course. How could she not be jealous? Wanda gets to do a mission with you and she gets to spend extra time with you without the disturbance of the other Avengers. Just thinking about the two of you in the quinjet is almost enough to make her skin crawl.
Her mind snaps back from her reverie, seeing Natasha was still holding her arm, she yanks it away. It causes Natasha to laugh. “Oh my god, Lena, you’re so in love.”
“Am not!”
“Okay,” she says. “Picture Y/N smiling."
Immediately your smile paints in Yelena’s head. The familiar curve of your lips invades her visions. Then, unconsciously, a small smile begins to form on her own lips.
“Yeah, you’re so in love,” Natasha repeats.
The smile leaves as quickly as it came as Yelena smacks Natasha’s shoulder. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” She hisses.
Natasha scoffs. She only took Yelena’s annoyance as a cue to keep pushing her sister’s buttons until she was ready to explode. “Then I guess you’d be fine thinking about Wanda and Y/N holding hands, eating dinner together after a long long day, sharing a bed because SHIELD is too poor to afford two twin beds-” Natasha could almost see Yelena’s ears turning red, the smoke ready to puff out, but she keeps talking, “and right there, Wanda would turn on her favorite show and the two of them would binge-watch the show-”
“The mission isn’t supposed to last more than four hours,” Yelena manages to huff, but her breath was uneven as she tries her best to maintain her composure.
“Ahh, I’m not finished. And Y/N would lay her head on Wanda’s shoulder. There would be no one there to interrupt them on this perfect night and-”
All fed up, Yelena throws her hands up, “fine! You know what! What if I am?” She says angrily. “I’m in love with Y/N! That’s what it is. I am so in love, you know that Natasha? For the first time in my life, I feel like I found someone who takes care of me, who genuinely wants to be around me without feeling like I’m a threat to them or feeling like they’re forced to be with me. Y/N is the reason why I feel so alive. Around her, I feel like I’m more than just my past and that I deserve everything good, so excuse me if someone tries to take that away from me. Does Wanda know what Y/N’s favorite food is? No. Does she know what Y/N’s favorite sleeping position is? No. Does she know that Y/N hates watching shows that last for more than 12 seasons? No! I do. I know that. Y/N is my gift, she is my world, not hers.”
Natasha’s eyes widen out of pure shock.
“What? Are you surprised that I finally admitted it? Or are you trying to think of something so you can make fun of me again-“
Natasha grabs Yelena’s shoulders before turning her around. Yelena could only feel her heart sink when she sees you standing there, after a long mission, eyes stunned. The two sisters don’t know what to say or do, so it was up to you to break the silence.
“Well, uh, I was just about to go to my room and-“
“How much did you hear?” Yelena asks, the feeling of numbness was growing more and more in her body.
“Right up to when you called Natasha 'a piece of shit’,” you tell her.
Natasha could only do so much as to pat her sister’s shoulders before excusing herself out, letting Yelena deal with the situation. If this ends badly, Yelena was going to swear on her life that she would murder Natasha for what she had just done.
“Well, uh-“ she starts.
You muster a cough, rubbing the back of your neck nervously. “I would ask you if you meant it, but I think I know you well enough to know that-“
Yelena begins fumbling with her doorknob, wanting desperately to escape this situation. “I’m sorry, let’s just pretend you didn’t hear that.” Her palms were starting to shake, her body failing to keep her composure as her friendship was surely about to fall apart.
You let off a small chuckle, whether or not that was a good thing Yelena wouldn’t be able to tell. You gently place a hand over her’s effectively causing Yelena to stop shaking. Yelena looks up and you watch those beautiful green orbs staring back at you and you could clearly see her on the verge of breaking down if you don’t start talking.
“Yelena, you know I love you, too, right?”
Even the way you say ‘I love you’ was almost like a dream, to the point she can’t even tell if she heard you correctly.
“Lena-“ you say, squeezing her hand softly.
“Are you telling me the truth?” She asks.
The familiar smile grazes your lips and without giving her a second to think, you press your lips to her’s. Her body reacts unconsciously, her emotions guiding her to react as she kisses you back. Her eyes close, hand flying to your neck and pulling you closer to her.
When the two of you finally pull away, you let out a small laugh, as your thumb gently brushes her cheek. “Now I know why you were jealous when Wanda and I were going on that mission together.”
She pouts, leaning her head against yours as her eyes fall to the ground, “I would’ve been better at playing the role.”
“I know,” you comment. “Come on, let’s go watch a movie.”
Hand in hand the two of you move inside Yelena’s room. From outside the hallway, Wanda finds Natasha standing by the corner. A smile spreads on her face when she realizes that the plan had worked.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Natasha comments.
Wanda rolls her eyes, “your sister almost killed me.”
__________________________
Thanks for reading! I hope this request turned out fine. I hope you have a great day/night, and may you always be safe! I’ll be here if you need me. -Bolts
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comfortscripts · a day ago
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Only Mine ¬ Remus Lupin
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Kinktober Special
Plot - Remus likes to believe he is a logical man but the beast that lurks beneath is not and he is not willing to let you go that easily.
Genre - Smut ♧ {16+ Only}
Pairing - Remus Lupin x Fem!reader
Notes/Warnings - Size kink (reader is smaller), possessive sex, light choking, unprotected sex, dom/sub, jealous Remus, mix of degradation and praise, BREEDING.
Word Count - 1.2k
Days crept up and the power of the moon reaching its full potential began to flood through Remus, frying his senses and stirring up his primal aspects. The build up to the full moon was always interesting with the lanky wizard, varying phases presented themselves. Fatigue may set in or a insatiable hunger that cannot be subdued by chocolate but this time, the only thing he craved was you.
You were everything he had ever wanted and something he believed he would never deserve, but by some sweet twist of fate, you loved him almost as much as he loved you. On any logical day, the Gryffindor boy knew that your loyalty and love for him was unwavering but with the beast battling for control, his logic had abandoned him.
Head thrown back in laughter at the raven-haired Marauder's childish remark, Remus felt his grip splinter the desk beneath as he watched the scene unfold before him. His darkened eyes hardened on your figure as low growls emitted from his throat, jealously coursing through his veins at how close his charming friend was getting to you; his girl.
Slughorn's nasal drone faded into the background as the werewolf channelled his attention towards listening into the riveting conversation that Sirius and you were engaged in. Fighting the urge to pull you away from the playboy pureblood as he reminded himself of your loyalty but his resolve faded. Watching as Sirius leant closer to your figure to whisper hidden gossip, Remus shot up.
"Mr Lupin, everything alright?"
"Not feeling too well Sir, I think I need to head to the infirmary" Through gritted teeth, the clever boy lied to the oh-so naïve and caring Professor.
"Of course. Miss Y/L/N, could you escort him to the infirmary" As your eyes locked with the young man, you realised that whatever was going on had to do with the upcoming moon and with a subtle nod, you made your way towards the large oaken doors.
As soon as the door swung shut, Remus wrapped his calloused hand around your wrist with a bruising grip and marched with quickened paces further into the empty hallways, ignoring all confusion circling around you.
The Gryffindor wizard thanked Merlin when he realised that the door was unlocked. Dragging you into the abandoned classroom, hidden away from the prying eyes of anyone who dared glance at his girl. With a sharp flick of his wand, the wooden door clicked as it locked and with a grumbled voice, a silencing charm was cast.
"Remmy, what's wrong?"
Stalking closer to your smaller body, you took in his appearance. Eyes clouded with hurricanes of lust and jealousy as the veins on his lean arms threatened the surface of his scarred skin and the outline of his slowly hardening cock made you unknowingly tense up.
"Did you really think you could get away with it, huh? Fawning over him right in front of me?" Chest to chest as the possessive man loomed over your figure. His rough hand encased your tender neck with a delicious squeeze of pressure. "Oh no little pup, you must have forgotten that you belong to me. Looks like you need to be reminded."
Thighs clenched at his words as your core began to slicken in anticipation. Muttering a string of explanations but they fell on deaf ears as the man had already given into his primal side. Clash of his chapped lips against your plump ones as he began his sloppy onslaught of affection, tongue maintaining dominance in the dance of lust.
His slender fingers pushed their way between your supple thighs in search of your tight hole, clothed by your wettening panties. Tracing their way across your glistening folds as Remus drank in your begging whimpers, his digits threatened to dive into your warmth before breaking away entirely.
A protesting groan escaped your mouth as the taller man removed all touch, leaving you desperate for more. His lips quirked into a devious smirk as he engraved the picture into his mind, planning his next course of pleasure before settling his eyes on your little skirt, or more importantly, what's hidden beneath.
"Panties off now"
Swallowing a gulp at his command, you realise the intensity of the werewolf's desire and it sends heat flooding to your core. Cautiously sliding your panties down your thighs as your exposed core pulses at the cool sensation the freedom has brought. The large hand reached out to grasp the soaked cloth from your hands as he shoved the fabric into his pocket for "safe keeping".
"God, I can smell your drenched cunt from here. Who made you this wet, pup?"
"You did. Only you"
Pushing you against a discarded bookshelf as you braced your hands against the dusty wood, back to the lust-driven wizard. His hands attached themselves to your skirt-covered hips in a punishing grasp that was meant to leave a mark, his mark.
"Let me remind you who you belong to"
As the final syllable fell from his lips, his thick cock impaled your sopping hole with a powerful thrust. A strangled gasp escaped as you relished in the sheer size and pleasure of the aching stretch, walls clenching at the sudden fullness.
Hips rocking against yours as the sound of your bodies meeting filled the room with the accompaniment of your plethora of stuttered cries and wistful moans mixed with his guttural moans and filthy words. Pounding into your warmth at a viscous and punishing pace, his brain fogging up with the singular instinct to claim you.
"Fuck, gonna pump you full of my cum. Wouldn't you like that pup? Wanna be full with my seed?"
His lewd words reached a docile part of you that reactivated like a freight train, walls clenching around his throbbing length as if spurring him to cum deep inside. A chuckle rolled from his chest at your responsive body as he quickened his pace, needing to paint your pretty little hole with his cum.
The painful knot of your climax flooded your senses, begging for release as the feral man continued his deep assault into your tiny frame. Knees weakening as the strong man held your hips in place and eyes threatening to roll back in pleasure as the crescendo of your climax grew closer.
"Rem, fill me please. I wanna cum"
Those words sent the werewolf into a frenzy as he doubled his already severe speed, reaching deeper into your body than ever before and hammering at your sweet spot to make you see stars as you let your orgasm go. Tsunami of pleasure rushed through you as your body convulsed and chants of his name spilled from your lips. Remus pushed deep inside as he felt his orgasm rip through his body, thick ropes of his seed shot into your accepting warmth as if you were milking him for all he was worth.
"Take it like a good little slut. God, you're so full with my babies" Words leaving his mouth as the final waves of pleasure coursed through your bodies. His slowly softening cock gently being unsheathed with careful calculation to keep his seed in your plump little pussy.
Scurries of footsteps and chatters of young students filled the halls outside the sex-filled room, bringing the lovers back to reality. Pressing a tender kiss against your dishevelled hair, Remus slowly clothed himself and regained control of his more human side.
"Baby, I need my panties"
"Sorry, my love but no. You are going to walk around knowing that my cum is leaking from that pretty little pussy" Brushing a strand of hair away from your flushed face, he leant forward to whisper. "It's a reminder that you belong to me"
Tagging - @yogirl-willow , @fairycirclebrat , @remusjlupinisdead , @avsensio , @sarcastically-defensive17 , @localsimp
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nexusnyx · 2 days ago
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Oogie Boogie's Song
— Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader — Summary: A date night filled with interesting Halloween movies was not what Bucky expected when he picked up his girlfriend from the movie theater, but surprises are one of the best parts about being with her. Things go smoothly until she claims Bucky could never scare her—and well. It's time to put his brave kitten to the test, then. — Word count: 3.1k — A/n: If you enjoy it, feedback is appreciated & highly encouraged and motivates me to write even more. You can consider supporting me on Ko-Fi, as well. Mistakes/errors might be here, let me know if you find any.
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⋅☾ Series Masterlist ☽⋅
"Why don't you just run in there and throw her over your shoulder?"
Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes at Sam's comment.
The sad part is that Bucky can almost see Sam smiling at himself on the other side of the phone, entirely amused by his joke. "She's not taking that long."
"Aren't you jealous?" Sam is the only person who can sound so curious and so teasing at the same time. "'Cause I could swear this has been a phone call to distract you from your jealousy."
For the third time, Bucky says. "I am not jealous."
Sam laughs. "Dude, that's good. It is! I was just checking. I'm not even worried for you, I'm worried for her. Imagine if you crush one of her classmates' hands saying hello because you're jealous that your girl has boy friends and takes them out to see a movie on a Thursday night." That would be bad. "I'm looking out for Y/n here, too."
That brought a smile to Bucky's face.
A reminder that you had stolen more than just his heart always came in a good time.
"She's probably reviewing everything they did wrong," Bucky chips in, chuckling. "She's a bit of a movie critic."
Sam laughs. "I know! I've been to Ghibli Night, remember?"
Of course he does—the memories he has of Sam crying over Ghibli Studio movies are one of his most prized possessions. "You know how she gets, then." As he says it, Bucky sees the familiar frame of his girl walking out of the movie theater with two guys on each side of her, listening and nodding along as she talks and gestures wildly. Before Sam can continue the conversation, Bucky adds. "And there she is." He chuckles. "I can almost hear the thorough commentary from here. I gotta go. 'Till tomorrow, man."
"Bye, Buck!"
He hangs up and waves so Y/n can see him standing in front of the bike, further down the street.
His movement seems to have a magnetic hold on her; as soon he waves, Y/n's face whips around and finds his in a second, smiling from ear to ear when Bucky smiles at her.
She turns around and hugs both boys, and now that Bucky isn't on the phone anymore he can hear her voice saying 'bye, Theo, bye Lozi' and the two boys answering 'bye, Turtle' and he snickers.
Finding out her classmates nicknamed her 'Turtle' because her talent was, according to them, brilliant enough to land her a spot in the Ninja Turtle artists group had rendered him speechless. Turtle.
Because that's what youngsters nowadays called one of the most famous artists in history. The Ninja Turtle group.
Bucky feels old, sometimes.
Y/n skips her way on the sidewalk, then grins wider when she stands in front of him. Bucky opens his arms and she falls into his embrace, both squeezing tight around the other.
"Hi, baby," she whispers in his ear.
"Hi." Bucky kisses her hair, which smells faintly of buttery popcorn and Snickers on top of the usual citric smell. "Was the movie good?!"
To his surprise, her reply is a deep groan that vibrates in his chest. "It sucked!"
Oh. Bucky laughs under his breath, and there it is, the explanation as to why she took nearly half an hour to leave after the movie was done.
"Bucky. Baby." Bucky pulls back from the embrace just enough to look at his love properly. "They ruined Halloween Kills."
"Wow." In his mind, there's no way someone can make movies created with the purpose of showing blood, gore and horrors good or bad movies, but he knows better than to presume he knows everything. "Tell me how."
Y/n narrows her eyes at him, biting on her bottom lip. Even now, months after starting their relationship, she stills asks before entering one of her nerdy speeches. "You sure?"
There's nothing Bucky enjoys more than listening to her rants.
One day she'll understand. Bucky likes to picture them in the future sharing breakfast in their own place, and in his scenario, Y/n walks in the kitchen with the morning paper and without even saying hello, starts a rant about the newest thing that's sparked that interest in her.
That fiery, bright spark, which drew him in and painted him as a man in love.
He smiles and nods, handing her helmet to her. "Wanna know everything. Hop on, gimme your all."
With the ease of someone who has practice, she does.
Y/n clings to Bucky and he can admit that her body heat is a much better way to make their way home than alone.
She talks about the movie, dissecting all their wrongs and very few rights, not minding his silence as he drives and only listens.
It's a testament to how close they've gotten and how comfortable she is with his enhancements that Y/n speaks calmly and in a conversational tone, knowing he's paying attention to every tiny snort and sarcastic deliver.
Answering her would require being louder than the wind so her human ears could pick up on everything, but Bucky knows she's patient enough to wait.
Plus—she's got enough in her for the entire way there.
When they're home and Bucky's told her his own two cents, Y/n nods in agreement, then sighs over her kitchen counter, looking at the spreadsheets of recipes with pleading eyes that beg them to magically turn into pies and brownies all on their own.
Taking pity on her, Bucky circles the counter to stand behind her.
"I could help," he offers, not for the first time.
As a response, she grunts. "You hate getting flour in your hand."
That was true. Cleaning his metal prosthetic was a bitch of a task, but he'd do it for her. "I'd go through the trouble for you."
That wins him a smile. He knows that because Y/n turns around in his arms and looks up at him happily, wrapping her arms around his neck. "That's very nice of you, baby."
He shrugs, pretending the compliment doesn't make him feel as giddy as it does. "Eh. I'm a nice boyfriend."
Y/n giggles, and leans in for a short peck. "You really are, James."
If he had any hopes of not allowing the heat to take over him, it's gone and buried with the way she whispers that.
He can feel the burn on his cheeks. "You do that on purpose," he accuses. Y/n likes seeing him flustered, though only the lord knows why.
The menace only wiggles her eyebrows at him, which is as much of an answer as anything else.
Together, they start baking the pies, brownies and cookies for the movie marathon Y/n decided to host for Halloween, or as she calls it, 'spooky season'. Their friends will show up with the drinks and costumes and in their small apartment living room, everyone is supposed to gather around and watch bloody, horrific things happening on TV.
He'd been invited too, clearly, but when Y/n asked whether he'd like to be a part of it, Bucky saw she had no expectations of him saying yes.
It's what made him so relaxed to say no in the first place.
What he still failed to understand was the appeal of them, so when the final batch is inside the oven, he asks. "What's the first one you guys are seeing tomorrow?"
Y/n has flour on her forehead from rubbing the back of her hand there and her cheeks are flushed to the exact degree Bucky love sit. "Uhm—I think Corpse Bride? Laís isn't the biggest fan of Burton so she'll try to sell us to watch Coraline first, but—," she shrugs her shoulders. "Tomorrow's the opening day, though, so the line-up is that: Corpse Bride, Coraline and Nightmare Before Christmas." Y/n opens him her square smile, the youthful one she has when seeing beautiful art in museums, and it tugs at the strings she has wrapped around Bucky's heart. "Animated precious gems of spooky season!"
For a moment, Bucky's too busy staring at her smile to assimilate all that she's said.
She's beautiful. Her genuine delight over beautiful things created by humans moves her, and that's the spark that kept Bucky falling deeper and deeper, with no chances of ever getting out.
Then, the names seem to register.
'Animated precious gems.'
"Wait..." Bucky drifts off, shutting the oven and tuning off from Sinatra's tune playing in the background.
He recalls the day Y/n asked him about the movie marathon.
"Will you wanna join us, baby? I know a marathon of Halloween-themed movies may not be your thing..."
"Not my favorite genre, to be honest," he had shrugged.
Not for a moment did Bucky think that the movies might be not the traditional 'horror'—the one of death, blood, demons and all things that could awaken horrible drawers of his consciousness.
Not for a moment did he remember who was he dating.
"Yeah, baby?" Y/n asks, looking at him expectantly.
Bucky stared and gaped at her for a second, frozen in his spot. He'd heard of those movies before, and of course his artistic, pie-baking and apartment-decorating baby, who was looking back at him with that precious patch of flour on her cheeks, would love those movies.
"Those aren't scary," Bucky states dumbly.
Y/n smiles, then shakes her head. "Not particularly." Then, she lifts a finger. "Coraline, though. That one lifts a few hairs at the back of the neck—but it's the mom thing, I guess? Fuck, just thinking about her weird spider eyes and legs," her body shudders, and Bucky laughs.
"I thought you were gonna watch the ones with possessions and demons and stuff," Bucky clarifies, and sees an understanding flash on Y/n's face.
Her posture softens, and when she opens her arms in a silent invitation, Bucky walks to her and slides between her legs in front of the chair, letting her arms wrap around him. "Wanna know my favorite movie?" she asks.
"Of course."
"Addams Family." The title is, fortunately, familiar, and Bucky thinks about what he knows of the movie, humming in approval. "I love Morticia and Gomez's relationship. They're so cute."
Not having watched the movie he is in no position to judge what he claims next, but Bucky believes it. "Hmmm. We're cuter."
It pulls laughter from her, and he holds her upper body as it shakes with her giggles. "If you say so." Y/n leans closer and nibbles on Bucky's lip, so he does the logical thing and pulls her against his body, stealing a kiss from her sweet lips.
The way she answers by relaxing, all the muscles on her body loosening, her fingers gripping on his hair and her mouth opening up just right for him—that messes with his head a little bit.
Her kisses are intoxicating. Even her masochist grin when she pulls back and looks at him in pure delight, biting on her own bottom lip and running her nails at his nape; even those are intoxicating.
He smiles at her.
Only he gets to see her like this. Bucky gets to see her hooded eyes playfully following him, all feline and sharp. He gets the kitt-ish licks she gives with the tip of her tongue on his swollen lips.
Bucky watches all the teasing feeling as sharp as the wolf they call him.
His smile is wiped with her tongue, but he gets hers back when he kisses her slowly and languidly.
They both pull back for air, and stay in each other's hold for seconds without needing a word. Then, Y/n whispers, "Wanna watch Addams Family with me?"
She sounds giddy with excitement, and it makes Bucky laugh wholeheartedly. "Of course."
"You wanna come to the marathon now, don't you?" She also asks, smiling knowingly at him.
"I didn't have all the information," Bucky answers with a tiny groan.
She still teases him all the way to the bedroom, and he pouts and frowns through it even though he's enjoying it; he'd say "secretly", but Y/n reads his emotions better than anyone. Finally having again a person who can follow his sense of humor is more than a breath of fresh air—it's like having a garden in the back of your house where you can go every morning and take deep, peaceful breaths.
Or in his case, across the hall.
Y/n hooks on Addams Family on the TV she bought for her room and lies with Bucky on the bed, all tangled and warm.
She turns around sharply, "Did you put on alarms for the pies? And the cookies?" she asks a little desperately.
Talented and perceptive, but with a shitty memory.
Bucky kisses her temple. "Yup." He turns to the tv. "Now shush," he sasses her.
The first one is incredible. Bucky absolutely adores Addams Family, and when that one is done and the pies and cookies are safely stored in Tupperwares, they start a little marathon of their own while lying under thick blankets.
Together, they go through Hocus Pocus and when that movie makes Bucky happier than most of the crap he's seen on tv lately, Y/n demands he watches Practical Magic while she showers.
When she's back, she asks if he's in the mood to get 'spookier' and he accepts the playful challenge in her eyes: she pops on Sleepy Hollow.
Despite learning a good deal about things through his friends, there was a lot Bucky hadn't given a chance yet and Tim Burton was one of them. It's with delight he discovers that some things can be tastefully done—he's... scared.
If that eerie feeling in the pit of his stomach could be described as such.
It's an itch, but it does the work: Y/n's eyes sparkle and she can barely contain her movements when she starts prodding him with questions and comparisons of the things they've seen so far.
The night is going so smoothly that Bucky almost misses the teasing that comes under her breath when she's turning all the electronics off and Bucky finishes his rant with, "—and at least it was with you. God knows what the hell I'd have heard from Sam if I got... scared. In his presence. I'd have to be a dick on Halloween of all things and scare the crap out of him just to put him in his place," Bucky chuckles, thinking about all the pranks he could pull on Sam to make him shriek like a little kid. "At least you I don't have to scare."
He's thinking about what route would be the best when pranking Sam and for that, he almost misses your tiny snort and, "As if you could."
His mind halts.
Bucky even stops creating scenarios of Sam falling into apple sauce—had you just snorted to yourself at the notion he could scare you?
You, entirely oblivious to the chaos you'd just created, continue walking around the bedroom turning things off and putting them away, but all Bucky can think about is hunting you down and making you whimper.
You are not scared of him. The knowledge throws Bucky off of a cliff, straight into the stormy high-sea. He's swimming in the notion. Drunk on it.
Bucky Barnes told you everything about himself—his bad, his good, the cursed bits and his own haunted creatures. If there was ever a Frankenstein or a poor Halloween beast, it'd be him; soldier born three times, Bucky, who was the Asset, who was the Sargeant, who was nobody.
Who is now Bucky.
Who you love.
He knew that because he'd heard it from your mouth — numerous times by now, he thinks happily — but sometimes, every now and then, he kind of sees it in the things you do and say, and it hits him all over again.
Only that this time, it brings out something else in him.
The Bucky who would make pretty girls and boys corner themselves at the back of the bar, waiting for his touch. The Bucky who is a predator for the people he craves, and who would eat every piece of you given the opportunity.
(The opportunity was given to him. So far, he's made love to you and you'd done the same to him, but eating you had been avoided. Eating you involved letting go in levels he feared thinking of because what if he forgets his strength and hurts you what if the arm grips your wrist too tight and he turns the bones into dust what if he does that to your HEAD—. Bucky would rather die.)
Knowing you're not scared of him solidifies inside of him the fear that he could do any of that. Bucky loves you way too much to risk anything bad happening to you.
And now, he wants you a little scared.
He's seen the deviant under your eyes, sometimes.
Looking back at him like you want to eat him, but stop yourself from even thinking about it.
With all the lights turned off, your devices in their place for the night and your body lotioned up just to your liking before bed — Bucky loved that tradition — you made your way back to bed.
The only illumination in the bedroom came from the Christmas lights hanging on your floor, but they were enough.
You crawled back in bed and when you lied beside Bucky, saw his expression.
You looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
"You don't think I can scare you, kitten?" Bucky asks, sliding his body closer.
Your eyes widened at his tone and there she was—his kitten. God, Bucky had been a fool so far. "Couldn't even try?" He rasps out. Under the blankets, his left hand goes to your arms and he runs the tip of his fingers over your exposed skin. "'Cause that sounds like a nice challenge. I might just try to make you jump. Hm?"
Bucky wonders how much of the words are getting through your head given how intensely your eyes are caught on his lips. "Buck..." you whisper.
"I have until the 31st to scare you. What d'you say?" Bucky challenges, pressing his body flush against yours from chest to toe.
You whimper, and you look so good blinking under your lashes like that. Trapped kitty. "You're gonna scare me?" Your voice is teasing, full of bratty rash braveness and fuck.
Bucky should spank you at the back of a church.
His metal hand ends underneath your chin, gripping it just tight enough. "I wonder if you'll scream or if you'll freeze, kitten."
Your eyes flutter closed, and the smile that opens on your lips says all that he needs to hear.
It's time for Bucky to learn how to be a mean fella once again.
Taglist pt. One ☆ @undiadeestos ; @keepingitlokiii ; @hallecarey1 ; @mardema ; @mollygetssherlockcoffee ; @fanofalltheficsx ; @justlovelifeblog ; @fallenoutofrose ; @rvgrsbrns ; @tripletstephaniescp ; @mal-edictions ; @rippl3s ; @barnesafterglow ; @vintagepigeon ; @dirtyweenerking ; @couldabeenamermaid ; @winter-soldier-sebstan ; @leyannrae ; @nerdwholikesword ; @andreead ; @ren-ni ; @pastamomma ; @fairytalebucky ; @natyvwe ; @murdermornings ;
Part Two ❥ ; @bvckysmoon ; @buttybarnes1917 ; @rebekahdawkins ; @tylard-blog1 ; @xbeauxny ; @redirection04 ; @thatblondebrownie ; @carrotfantasimp ; @teenagedreams-bucky ; @buckyxplumsss ; @sltwins ; ; @spiderdudetom ; @mrsbarnesinmyimagination ; @pineprincess ; @cpag7 ; @iambeeee ; @agni-l ; @sstan-hoe ; @hawsx3 ; @weirdowithnobeardo ; @hdbngsprnva ; @itsdawnashlie ; @sweetdreamsbuck ; @slutforsteve ; @itsmedramaqu33n ; <3
358 notes · View notes
littleredwing89 · 23 hours ago
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MILITIA
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MILITIA
Arkham Knight!Jason Todd x Militia!Reader
Summary: His cold, crisp tone made you realise exactly what was wrong. Even the modulator couldn’t hide it. The Knight wasn’t angry with you. Oh no. He was jealous of Deathstroke.
Warnings – Language. Smut. NSFW. Jealousy.
Word Count: 2,629
A/N: After another play through of Batman: Arkham Knight, I couldn’t resist my own attempt at Arkham Knight!Jason smut. Hope you all love it xoxo 
————
“Come on kitten, you can do better than that”, Slade smirked at you, rounding you on the training mat. He was clad in his Deathstroke uniform, barring the mask. His icy blue eye trailed over your hot body, the sun beating down upon your both. The humidity made you sweat, trickling down your forehead. Slade was gruelling in training and you were beginning to suffer.
You pushed yourself up, glancing briefly to the side. The Knight was watching closely, you could tell. His helmet covered his handsome face but you knew his eyes would be focused only on you. Your wrapped hands brushed down your combat shorts before you took a more offensive stance. You had to knock Slade on his ass at least once before the day was done.
“That’s more like it”, Slade goaded before charging towards you. You ducked effortlessly landing on your shins before sliding on the floor, dodging a low kick. You rolled forward, huffing heavily trying to analyse his movements. Looking for a weakness but, the heat was getting to you. Sweat dripped down your spine, making your top cling to your skin. You avoided the swipe of his sword as he lunged at you violently. You felt the air of it hit the nape of your neck as it narrowly missed you. For someone with such bulk, he moved so gracefully.
You grabbed the dagger on the back of your belt and darted forward with quick sharp jabs, hoping to catch him off guard. Slade had the audacity to laugh before cleanly knocking the blade from your fingers, catching you and caging your body against his.
“Got you…”, he muttered in your ear. His low, husky voice fanned down your neck. You shivered involuntarily and tried to wrestle out of his strong grasp. Slade's forearm was around your neck, the other grabbing your hips, pressing himself into your ass.
“ENOUGH!”.
The Knight’s modulated voice boomed through the arena and he strode across the mat. His heavy boots pounding across the floor. You could tell by his stance he wasn’t pleased. You swore under your breath. The last thing you wanted to do was embarrass him. Make him think you weren’t good enough. You’d met everyone of his challenges, rose up through the ranks quickly. You felt your stomach twist with disappointment.
“Take your hands off her”, the Knight growled again, squaring up to Deathstroke, almost meeting his staggering height.
His cold, crisp tone made you realise exactly what was wrong. Even the modulator couldn’t hide it. The Knight wasn’t angry with you. Oh no. He was jealous of Deathstroke.
“You told me to spar with her, isn’t that what we’re doing?”, Slade’s voice impersonated innocence but he was anything but. He smirked smugly at Jason, keeping his grip ever tighter on you. You felt the faint outline of Slade’s muscles rippling through his tactical outfit.
Jason stood stoic before taking another step forward, “I said, take your hands off her”.
You felt Slade slip his hands off you. Slowly tracing them down your body before backing away, knowing he’d wound Jason up just enough, “Don’t worry, she’s all yours kid”.
You moved towards Jason, rolling your shoulders to ease the tension. You wanted to remove Jason from this situation before it escalated any further. You didn’t know what he’d do and you knew neither of them would back down if the other challenged.
“I was only warming her up for you”.
The rage was practically radiating off Jason with that last comment. Your palm landed on the front of his armour as Jason strode forwards. You could sense the venom racing through his veins, aching to hammer his fists into Slade’s face. Pushing against his chest gently, you forced him to look down at you. Jason met your eyes and saw them pleading with him.
Without saying anything else, The Knight spun around, storming back towards his quarters with you in tow behind him.
 ————
 “Jason?”, you called softly as you followed him through to his private barracks. You only ever used his name when it was just the two of you.
He ignored you and stormed across to his dresser, pressing the button on the side of his helmet. It hissed as it released and he took it off, discarding it rudely to the side.
“Jay?”, you tried again, hoping to lure him out of whatever dark place he seemed to have entered.
He gripped the sides of the dresser, knuckles turning white at the thoughts of Slade touching you. So intimately in front of him. How dare he touch what wasn’t his. Jason growled to himself and then spun around.
Your eyes met his and they were blown black. His unruly hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, the arid heat getting to him too.
“Jay…”, you tried again softly, edging towards him, “He’s just an egotistical ass-”.
Your words were cut off short as Jason practically pounced on you, his lips slamming against yours. He kissed you possessively, crashing you back into his door. The wood creaked uncertainly with the additional weight.
The kiss was all teeth and tongue, aggressive and dominating. You mewed into his mouth and Jason readily swallowed the sounds, spurred on by them. His hands touched everywhere, desperate to devour you all at once.
Reluctantly he pulled away from your sensual lips and scanned your flushed face. He planted hot, opened mouth kisses down your neck. Biting and sucking, ensuring you would have visible marks.
You were his. 
Your fingers clawed through his hair and moaned his name. Your body arched, shivering at his domineering behaviour.
“Jason…”, you purred and pulled his hair harder, enjoyed his growl that reverberated against your skin.
In a flurry of movement, Jason tore himself off you, standing back to admire his work. Your lips were swollen from his bruising kisses, your neck littered with marks and bites, your skin was shiny with sweat. Flushed from the South American heat and his intense treatment.
“Look at you”, he smirked, “Already a mess for me and I’ve barely touched you”.
You licked over your bottom lip and started to trace your hands down your chest, following the rise and fall of your breasts. Jason’s eyes followed you as he growled huskily.
“Princess…”, he warned.
“What?”, you gasped as your fingers dipped lower, toying with the button on your combat shorts.
“Don’t tease me”, he took a step back towards you, feeling you shrink in front of him, “You’ll regret it”.
“Somehow I don’t think I will”, you smirked up at him, popping the button on your shorts, revealing the top of your tiny black cotton thong.
He fisted his hand and made a strangled sound in his throat, “Go and stand by the mirror…now”.
His deep tone was commanding and you nodded briefly, strutting across to his floor length mirror. You stood in front of it, unsure exactly what Jason had in mind.
Coming up behind you, his hands circled around you and gripped the waistband of your shorts and thong. He grunted and ripped them down your shapely legs together. They bunched at your feet and he allowed you a second to kick them away before he kissed up the backs of your legs. His teeth scraping up your flesh.
You shivered and mewled his name, eyes falling shut for a moment, soaking in the little buzzes of pleasure vibrating through your nerves.
Jason rose to his full height behind you and ground his hard cock into your ass, nipping your earlobe, “So beautiful…”.
His large hands snaked up your thighs and gripped the bottom of your vest top, “This needs to go too”, he muttered and dragged it up off your body, throwing it across the room.
Even though it was over 30 degrees, you shivered, skin prickled under his intense gaze.
You were completely bare before him, whilst he still stood completely kitted in his uniform. Your eyes met his, wild with lust. The coil in your stomach tightened deliciously, slick forming in your core.
He smirked and kicked your legs further apart, bending you at the lower back, your face pressing into the cold mirror. The fabric of his gloves made you shudder, you so desperately wanted to feel his calloused skin.
“Jason…”, you hummed quietly, rolling your hips as he started to stroke his fingers through your folds. Pleasure dancing up your spine. You bit down onto your bottom lip hard when his fingers slipped deep into your pussy.
Your walls clamped around his fingers, drawing him further into you. They felt so good. He groaned into your neck and sucked a mark at the base, muttering about how perfect you were for him.
It wasn’t enough. You needed all of him. You whimpered, circling your hips as he pressed against your g-spot expertly with every stroke.
“Jason…please”.
“What is it?”, he asked innocently, nipping your shoulder.
“You”, you moaned loudly as his thumb brushed over your sensitive clit, “I need you”.
“How?”, he teased, rolling your bud slowly, drawing more whimpers of desire.
“I need you to fuck me”, you begged, “Now Jason, I need it now”.
He withdrew his fingers and you whined at the loss but, you knew you’d be getting something even better. You heard him fumbling behind you, his utility belt dropped to the floor with a clatter and his zip echoed in your ears. In the mirror you saw a quick glance of his thick cock as he stroked it, spreading your slick over his length.
Jason pressed you further into the mirror of his room, your hot, sticky skin dragging across the cold surface as he thrust into you hard from behind. You sobbed his name as your fingers clawed at the mirror, desperate to cling to something. The drag of his cock made your mind delirious, throbbing with desire.
“You belong to me”, his voice was clipped and strained with a dark lust. The jealousy washed over him in thick waves.
“Say it!”, his palm slapped over your ass cheek as he drove into your pussy deeper, groaning as he saw your pussy taking all of his cock in the mirror.
You mewled his name in bliss before murmuring, “I’m all yours Jason! Only yours!!”.
You saw his reflection, the satisfied smirk working its way onto his lips. He somehow looked even taller in his Arkham Knight uniform. Powerful and imposing.
“That’s right princess”, he growled.
Each thrust sent a blast of fire through your veins, edging you closer to your orgasm. You could feel the bitter steel of his pistols rubbing against your bare thighs with his brutal pace.
“Only I can touch you like this”, his hands gripped you hard, as he continued to piston into you, his pace never faltering. Black took over his usual sparkling blue eyes, lust brimming there as he scanned over you.
“Only you”, you mimicked his words back to him, hoping to quell the swirling pit of jealousy in his stomach. You’d never wanted anyone more than you had Jason.
“Only ever you”, you whimpered, pushing back to meet every thrust, your velvet walls spasming around his pulsating cock.
Your words rattled through his mind and in the mirror you saw him tear his gloves off with his teeth, flinging them across the room.
“Need to feel you princess”, he muttered, running his rough palms over your heated skin. He groaned, greedily palming your breasts, pinching your nipples as he thrust faster.
“Jason! Fuck!”, you moaned out in broken syllables, feeling the coil in your stomach preparing to snap.
“That’s it”, he smirked, “Let everyone know who’s making you feel this g-good”.
Your vision blurred as your climax hit you in short, sharp bursts. It made your body tingle and your toes curl. You trembled, tremor after tremor racking your body with undeniable euphoria. You panted heavily, pressing your cheek more into the cool mirror. Something - anything to soothe the roaring heat.
Jason continued to drive into you, his thrusts becoming uneven as he neared his own end. He was groaning your name, his fingers weaving into the back of your hair.
“Fuck…so good princess - so good”, he panted, “I’m- yours”, he choked out and you felt him empty inside you. Thick, hot seed flooding your core. You whimpered, gripping the edges of the mirror to make sure you stayed upright as Jason rested his forehead to the base of your neck, peppering soft kisses there.
 ————
 Spinning you around carefully, Jason lifted you up, smiling when you coiled your limbs around him without thought. Your head pressed into his shoulder and you laid light kisses to his exposed neck, humming softly. He dropped you down onto his bed gently and you sank into the linen blanket. You looked up and tugged on his hand, pulling him down with you.
Jason stretched out next to you, curling his arm around your neck, tugging you back towards him, kissing you deeply. He groaned quietly, letting his tongue stroke along yours. His hands ran up and down your sides, soaking up the heat from your skin. When he pulled back, his crystal blue eyes met yours. They’d simmered down immensely, and you could finally see your Jason.
“Better?”.
“I still hate thinking about him on top of you”, Jason grumbled, letting his thumb rub back and forth over your hip bone.
You kissed his lips lightly, “Would it be better if you sparred with me?”.
He hummed, “Maybe…not sure how much sparring would get done though”, he grinned cheekily and caught your lips in another kiss.
“We'd certainly get some exercise done”, you mused, letting your fingertips stroke over the J shaped scar on his cheek. Instead of flinching, he leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, basking in your loving touch.
“Guess I can’t complain too much then”, he murmured, the words ghosting over your lips, making you shiver.
“Who knows, maybe I'll be on top next time”.
Jason smirked, his hand travelling lower to cup the curve of your ass, “Oh princess, that'll happen if I let it”.
Stroking your fingers down his chest slowly, you caught the zipper, tugging on it, exposing his solid chest, “Mhmm”.
He took your hand and bit at the pulse point on your wrist, letting his tongue drag over the mark. He moaned under his breath at the sweet and tangy taste of your skin, “Wanna give it a chance sweetheart?”.
Your pulse quickened as Jason continued to mouth his lips up your arm, biting and nipping the flesh. You met his eyes and raised your brow in challenge.
“I'll show you where you actually belong”, Jason winked.
Rolling on top of him, you pressed your bare body into his, the ice cold metal of his Arkham knight uniform making your skin prickle. Your thighs straddled him and his pistols due into you. You swallowed the moan threatening to escape.
“We'll see boss, we'll see”.
Jason gripped your thighs, rubbing your core against his rapidly growing bulge, “You ready for another round?”.
“Yes, Sir”, you circled your hips, enjoying how he twitched beneath you.
He relaxed under you, moving his thick arms under his head, a smug smile curving his lips, “Go ahead then, sweetheart”.
 ————
Special Thanks: @offendedfishnoises​​​​​​ @internalsealpanic​​​​​ @batarella​​​​​ - thank you both for proof reading you beautiful hoes xoxo
Tag List: @offendedfishnoises @internalsealpanic @batarella @batarella-mini @lucy-roo @illzarr @pricetagofficial @jadedhillon @vvipgot7be @clementinesandstars @thedeadlythoughts @fantasticwizardnerd @power-of-words23 @vintagexparker @l-inkage @fourteengemstones @ficrecsideblog @insane-without-delirium @so-now-what-huh @imjeralee @geekonaleash @dairydragon84 @dragonchildyuki @ediwdac @fxrchxldws @hyperfixationsandhecticness @chelinn @maniacproffesor @8ether @the-abyss-of-fandoms @babymango-writes @indigowcrds @catxsnow @lostoctaviaaugusta @empower-bi-women @jd-loves-everyone @xatanna-troy @blondekel77 @awsomebatlover @mora-miserium @badbiddie055 @more-cardigan-than-woman @jasonsthots @phoenixhalliwell @redhoodssweetheart @river9noble @candid-confetti​ @more-cardigan-than-woman​ -  Drop me a message if you want to be added to my tag list. Please let me know if the tag list didn’t work again, lots of love xoxo
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mhathotfic · 2 days ago
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Aight I just thought of this but LISTEN 👀
Reader is just having a bad day and just wants to huddle up in her room alone
Her hybrid aizawa is like what the heck why is she acting like this?
Oh she must just be needy for a good dickin
And then he’s like aight well I guess I gotta deal with this
Like it’s a chore but it HAS to be done 👀
And she’s just like w h a t 👁👄👁
Here’s the deal, got hit with chronic fatigue so I’m gonna do hcs because it takes me less energy to do so and on a side note it’s panther Aizawa supremacy in this house.
Warnings: sexual activity, fem reader by request
Pairing: panther hybrid! Shouta Aizawa x reader
-To be fair he’s technically not wrong
-She hadn’t been out with anyone since getting him
-Or at least that’s what he’s overheard from their phone calls with friends
-Often saying that getting him used to everything was already difficult enough and bring someone else around would be a nightmare
-And he couldn’t really blame her for that reasoning, he wouldn’t take kindly to a stranger in his home touching his human however they felt like
-But he left it alone
-He didn’t care to investigate farther figuring it’s none of his business anyways and she didn’t know he knew so why bother with the awkward situation?
-He stuck to minding his own business up until his usually good natured and happy human came home in a mood and refusing to talk about it
-Telling him that she’s fine and not to worry even though she’s been wrapped up in blankets all by herself since she got home
-The lack of communication had him frustrated and pacing back and forth outside her bedroom and a low growl rumbling out of his chest
-When it hits him, she’s probably frustrated too
-Just a different kind of frustration
-Helping her with it would probably put her in a better mood right?
-Offers like he’s offering to make dinner and not like he just said he wants to sleep with her
-Cue confused stuttering and flustered noises before she just squeaks out an almost embarrassingly enthusiastic sure before getting pounced on
-And that’s how they spent the rest of the night with her ass in the air getting absolutely railed
-All while he purrs praise in her ear for being so good for him
-Leaving love bites anywhere he can so it’s obvious that he’s stacked his claim over her
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tetsuukuroo · 2 days ago
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Iwaizumi makes you cry in a good way
In which: your boyfriend rarely shows his soft side to others but when he does show it, you can't help but to tear up
Warning: Iwa-chan brainrot (literally just me wishing I could marry him irl)
Pairing: Iwaizumi x reader
Tag list: open
Requests: open
Navigation | Hq m.list
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Iwaizumi Hajime was probably one of the most attentive people you have ever met
From the moment you first met him you couldn't help but notice how he would take everything into account
At least, that's when it came to you
Although, you haven't quite caught on to that bit of information just yet
For the past few month, you've been trying to book yourself and your boyfriend a very special date night for your anniversary in the brand new restaurant that everyone is just talking about
Let's be sneaky and make it Onigiri Miya ;)
Unfortunately for you, every time you tried to book for seats it was always fully booked
You would get told the news and would be sympathetically told to try again in a few weeks
Eventually, it became a monthly ritual for you to call the restaurant and ask if they had any free seats
Every time you would be met with the sad news
Normally, you wouldn't make a big deal about these things
But you heard that the restaurant makes Iwaizumi's favourite food and it's rumoured to be the best yet in Japan
The agedashi tofu and grilled mackerel pike
The restaurant was also famous for having it's amazing panorama roof where you get the full view of the city lights at night
Can you see now why this place was always fully booked?
Damn Osamu you're thriving
Anyways, unbeknownst to you, Iwaizumi managed to somehow miraculously snag a table for two on the panorama roof
He had connections ;)
Everybody say thank you Miya Atsumu for relentlessly begging his brother to do a favour for his personal trainor
Thank youuuu
"That's alright, thanks anyway," you sigh as you hang up the phone.
This was the third month you had called the restaurant and the sixth time you tried to make a booking, making sure to call them every two weeks.
Once the call ended, you were met with your calendar on the screen.
The words 'CALL ONIGIRI MIYA' dotted down on todays date as well as the date two weeks later.
You pouted as it was yet another failed attempt at surprising your boyfriend and what's worse is that today was your anniversary.
You were hoping you could pull off some miracle and get the table on the night of the date but this wasn't some shoujo manga.
It was your very unlucky life, if we're choosing to be very overdramatic.
(come on, you're dating THE Iwaizumi 'big yummy muscles' Hajime. Very unlucky my ass)
You were gloomily staring at your phone, not realising your boyfriend was watching you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed before he decides he can't take you being miserable today.
"What's wrong, baby?" you jump as he softly whispers it into your ear, gently wrapping his arms around you as he kisses your neck.
"Nothing," you stutter out as you try to hide the screen from him.
You couldn't hide anything from your boyfriend but he didn't let you know that when you tried so hard to.
He quickly noticed how desperate you were to get seats at this restaurant the moment you two passed by it when it had its grand opening.
The long line of people was the thing that caught your attention and you curiously tugged on Iwaizumi's arm as you tried to see what the big fuss was all about.
Atsumu had told the entire team, including Iwa, about his brother's new restaurant and the huge grand opening so Iwaizumi figured that was what the big fuss was about.
He would noticed how every time you guys would pass by it, whether in the car or just walking by, you would glance at it. Then you would frown or sigh or pout when you would see how long the line was.
He noticed how you would call the restaurant every two weeks, asking for a reservation only to end the call gloomily just as you did a few minutes ago before trying again two weeks later.
He found out about it when he saw you write 'CALL ONIGIRI MIYA' on a sticky note and left it on your bedside table in both of your room.
So, he decided, if this was something you really wanted, he would make sure you got to go to this famous restaurant whether it cost him his sanity or not.
Which eventually leads us to him asking Atsumu to ask Osamu about a reservation.
Of course, Atsumu being Atsumu, he was being a smug prick and decided to tease his stoic and cold personal trainor.
"Is this for (F/n)?" he teased with a knowing look, wiggling his brows as he nudged Iwaizumi. "Come on, ya can tell me all about how much of a softie ya are for her."
Iwaizumi had to remind himself that although Atsumu and Oikawa had a lot in common, he needed Atsumu to pull through with this favour.
He sighed before crossing his arms, "yes, it's for (F/n)."
Atsumu blinked in surprise, not really expecting him to actually confess and to only turn around in annoyance. Of course, he was going to ask Osamu whether or not Iwaizumi replied but he could tell how important this was just from the reply.
"Oh, uh, sure. I'll talk to 'Samu," he stutters out in surprise before going off to bother his twin by sending spam messages.
A few days later, Atsumu told Iwaizumi the good news of your booking being made for your anniversary date just as requested which brings us back to today.
"Well then, how about you get all dressed up and I'll take you out for a surprise tonight," he suggests as he brushes your hair behind your ear, giving you a small smile.
You couldn't help but to love him even more from just that gesture.
But that also made you even more frustrated that you couldn't even manage to book a simple restaurant booking for your boyfriend.
"Hey, no pouting today," he pokes you cheek gently and then kisses it causing you to smile.
"Okay, okay, boss," you say with a roll of your eyes. "What are we going to do today?"
"That's a surprise," he whispers in your ear before squeezing your ass causing you to gasp as you send him a glare.
He didn't take it to heart, in fact, he grinned instead before slapping it.
"Go get dressed," he tells you, "into the fanciest dress you want to wear for tonight, baby."
(PLS- I WANT IWA-CHAN)
So, you did as told and got into the dress you've been dying to wear for months now.
Iwaizumi told you to take your time seeing as dinner won't be until 7pm that night so you had hours to get ready.
You decided to pamper yourself, doing your hair the way you wanted it exactly, putting as little or as much makeup on as you wanted and wearing the shoes you loved.
When it was time to go, Iwa couldn't help but to proudly hold onto you knowing he was yours and you were his.
"You look beautiful, baby," he tells you as he kisses your forehead while you fixed his tie.
You noticed that Iwa dressed up equally as fancy as you so you didn't feel too overdressed or underdressed.
"And you look handsome, babes," you tell him as you held his hand, kissing his knuckle gently.
He placed his other hand in his pocket before leading you both to the car.
The entire time he drove towards the restaurant, the both of you talked about just about anything.
Ranging from the most random thing you thought of or did recently to him telling you about how he was doing or wanted to do.
When you pulled up to Onigiri Miya, however, you stopped mid-sentence and turned to him with your jaw dropped.
He chuckled at your reaction, closing your mouth with his finger lifting your chin gently and then placing a soft kiss to your lips.
"Do you like it?" he asks you quietly.
Although, all you could do was stutter out in surprise causing him to chuckle once again before exiting the car and opening your door to help you out.
"B-but- I- t-they," you stuttered out still as you both walked into the restaurant hand in hand.
"Hajime," you managed to squeak out as he opened the door for you.
"Table for Iwaizumi Hajime," he tells the waitress at the door and she nods as she leads the way for you both.
"How were you able to book this? This place has been fully booked since the moment they opened," you asked him in a rushed whisper.
"Shh," he tells you as he removes your coat after the waitress leads you to your table at the very top floor on the panorama roof.
The city view was breathtaking and with the lights on in the dark night it really showed why the restaurant was fully booked on just the ambiance alone.
There was fairy lights strung up on a pergola and various lanterns hung from the top of them. Cherry blossoms were also present to set the mood.
"But- I," you stuttered out still in awe and shock of the whole thing.
Iwa takes the seats across from you and shrugs, "I saw how badly you wanted to you go here and how hard you've been trying to get seats so I figured I'll just pull a few strings and treat you out here."
He averts his eyes from yours when you don't say anything, instead just staring at him. He felt his face heat up bashfully as he thought you probably thought this was too mushy and lovey dovey of him.
But you looked at him with pure awe, a look that you only hoped said 'thank you so much' as you felt you eyes begin to tear up.
When you let out a breath as you tried to compose yourself, Iwaizumi looked at you, his eyes wide with panic when he saw you trying to dot your tear away from your inner corners of your eyes then trying to fan yourself despite being outside on a rooftop overlooking the city.
"H-hey, did I do something wrong?" he asks in pure panic.
You managed to grab ahold of his hand with both of yours causing him to freeze on his spot of standing up from his chair as you looked at him with teary eyes.
"Thank you, Haji," you gave him the biggest smile, eyes closed as tears of happiness escaped your eyes.
The lights in the background gracefully highlighting you even more in Iwa's eyes at that smile. The smile he knew he wanted you to have every time he saw you.
When you felt him move, you thought he'd sit down but instead he moved to your side of the table.
Your eyes opened to see what he was doing only for them to tear up again as you gasped in shock.
There, Iwaizumi Hajime kneeled down on one knee, putting his hand in his pocket that he placed it in earlier to make sure the ring was still there. Only this time, he held the box that held the ring out in front of you.
"You cry at the weirdest things, you know that?" he asks you as he begins to tear up himself.
People around you gasped and awed at you two, witnessing this beautiful moment.
But, as cheesy and disgusting and cliche as it sounds, you and Iwaizumi didn't hear them or see them. You were both too focused on one another as you nodded your head frantically after hearing his heartfelt proposal before he placed the beautiful ring onto your ring finger.
It was the very ring you once described to your best friend when they asked you about what your dream engagement ring would be like.
Yeah, you could say Iwaizumi Hajime was definitely the most attentive person you would ever meet.
Although, it was only when it came to you.
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@atsubaka @kenmaslov3r @chloee0x0 @criesinpisces @fluffieveggie @berry-kazoo @lilacshouko @limelightdreams @onefoureightfive @chaotic-fangirl-blog
Reblogs appreciated <3
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bangchanbabygurl · a day ago
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First Time (B. Chan)
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Member: Chan
Request: No
Genre: Angst/Fluff/Smut
WARNINGS: Abusive house hold, trauma, sexual content, vanilla sex, angst, first time, virgin, praise kink, marking kink, mommy milkers kink, soft sex, dominant & submissive.
Recommend song to listen to while reading this ‘Naked’ by Sabrina Claudio.
I let out a small sigh, covering my ears blocking away the screams and shouting from downstairs. My eyes fell on the clock, it was past midnight. The phone led up receiving a call from him, I grabbed my bag before quietly stepping out of my bedroom. With my phone and bag in one hand while the other hold my sneakers, sneaking out the back door. I slipped on my shoes before hopping over the wall, a smile formed on my lips as he helped down.
Fingers laced together as we made our way to his motorcycle, “You okay?” He asked handing me a helmet. A sigh of frustration escaped my lips “Now that I’m with you of course.” I said, putting on the heavy thing over my head. Wrapping my arms around his waist, the smell of his intoxicating sweet spice and musk filled my nostrils as he drove away from the dark gloomy grey house. A sigh of relief left my lips as I lean my head against his back, the way the breeze felt on my skin put me at ease. The feeling of freedom was something I wished for, especially for a silly twenty-one year old young woman who grew up in a Mexican household where every woman was meant to be hidden from the world.
My parents hated the idea of me dating, using excuses that dating will only affect my studies and cause nothing but heartaches. Removing the helmet Chris let out a small chuckle he fixed my messy hair, my eyes turned to what seem like a cabin. I turned to him, “I thought we were going to the drive in?” I asked he smiles. “Yeah but something better came to mind.” Chris said taking my hand into his, “So you rented a cabin?” I asked in confusion. There was nothing wrong with staying in the cabin, I love the outdoors and nature but something about the forests in Arizona always gave me the creeps. “I did not rent it, I bought it.” He said I halted in front of the steps, “You bought it?” I asked with a perplexed tone. Chris nodded his head, my eyes wandered the cabin in awe. “Just for the two of us. So whenever you feel like running away, always know that this is home.” He whispered against my ears, wrapping his arms me.
A smile crept on my lips as he placed his chin on my shoulder, my hands gripped onto his arms. “That’s very sweet of you…really sweet also very romantic.” I said letting out a small laugh, so did he. A shiver ran down my spine as he plant a kiss on my neck, “Come on I have a surprise for you inside.” Chris said leading me into the cabin. “Before we go in, can I blindfold you?” He asked, I gave him a shy smile. With a nod of approval he wrapped a black silk blindfold around covering my eyes, “Is it too tight?” He asked I shook my head. I gripped onto his hands tightly, the sound of wood creaking under my feet signaled that we were inside. A shaky breath left my lips as Chris let go of my hands, the silk fell lightly off me.
The scenery felt like it was straight out of a cheesy romance flick, it made me feel all warm and bubbly inside as the love fool side of me creeped inside. My fingers pressed lightly against my lips, I could already feel myself getting emotional from all this. This might be a cabin but it looked more way too fancy, his low voice brought me back. “Do you like it? Is it too much? If it is I can change-” pressing my lips against his, quieting his rants. His hands were placed on my hips, pulling away from the loving kiss. I smiled at him, “It’s perfect…” I said earning a grin from him. Chris wasn’t like the guys from college, no he was far more special than them aside coming from a wealthy family and a business company; he was the most kind and sweetest person you could ever meet. Every moment I’ve spent with him since the beginning of the day we met was dear me but that’s a story for another time.
“Was this the better idea that came to your mind?” I asked with a cheeky grin, he laughs and shook his head. “Well, kind of…I thought that maybe we could do a movie night here instead.” Chris said setting my bag down on the royal blue leather sofa, I look around the living room. The interior design still gave off that camping like feature but with a hint of luxury, I could feel his gaze burning me like fire. I felt flustered all of sudden, turning to look at him. “I think you’ll like our bedroom more.” He said with a teasing smile, a small laugh escaped my lips as I followed him into the hallway. Entering the room it all felt like something from a movie, over the fireplace was a plasma TV hanging. A book shelf filled with variety’s of books, beige drawers next to a door that led to the bathroom. The black metal canopy bed was the touch that felt like a fever dream, a small flustered sigh left my lips.
“The fact that you did this for us makes me happy,” I said as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, a small hum tickled against my skin. Turning to face him I wrapped my arms around his neck, “I just want to make you happy…because you’re my everything.” He whispered. My hand wrapped around the nape of his neck, placing my forehead against his. “And I am happy because I have you, that’s what matters to me.” I whispered smiling into the kiss, a kiss that started off sweet and tender. My heart was pounding against my rib cage, feeling my body flush in heat. Something I’ve never experienced before but wanting to explore the feeling, I could feel Chris drawing small circles on my hips with his fingertips. Pulling away softly catching our breaths, I ghost my lips over his lips craving for more. My chest falling heavily, “I don’t want to rush you, I’ll wait when you’re ready.” He whispered as we gave each soft pecks.
“You’re not rushing anything Chris, I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before. I want this…” I whispered softly looking into his eyes, he caressed my cheek. “Are you sure?” He asked, I nodded my head in approval. “Okay…but I want to make it special for you.” He said I gave him a shy smile, “Wait for me, I’ll only be a quick second.” Chris said as he walked out of the room. I fan myself letting out a huff of breath, unzipping my jacket I tossed it onto the black leather couch next to the book shelf. Slipping out of my sneakers, I fiddled with my skirt waiting for Chris, I stared out the window to kill time.
I blushed as I watched him being his romantic self, rose petals he knew I had a thing for roses. “Like I said I want it to be special for you.” He whispered his lips hovering mine in teasing like matter, I smile. “Everything little thing you do for me is special.” I uttered against his lips. My hands gripped onto his arms for support, feeling his lip tug lightly on my bottom lip. His tongue exploring my mouth was sending me in daze, pulling me closer to him closing every open gap between us. Chest to chest, pulling away with a small pop like sound coming from our lips. His lips parted as if he was gonna say something “I trust you.” I whispered, burying his face in my neck my eyes fluttered closed as his lips graze softly against my skin. Chris began to pull lightly on the hem of my shirt, planting a small kiss on my neck before removing my top. My fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt feeling his gaze on me, helping him slide off the clothing. His fingertips brushed over my bare waist, slipping out of my skirt. Snaking my arms around his neck feeling the warmth of skin to skin, his hands gripped softly around my thighs.
Laying my back on the mattresses as he hovered over me, with one hand on his arm the other rest on the nape of his neck. Receiving small light kisses feeling him pour his love into each kiss, trailing my fingers into his silky soft hair. His lips trailing down my jawline to my neck, feeling a spark of bliss electrifying in me. A small gasp escaped my lips as his lips reached my cleavage, he continued to trail open mouthed kisses down to the hem of my panties. Chris had a soft smile on lips as his index tugged my bottom lip, leaving a small peck. His slightly cold hands unhooked my bra sending goosebumps all over, crimson red led up my face. I found myself lost in bliss as his lips explored my breasts, the way his tongue slick over my breast caused a small mewl escaped my lips. My breath got caught in my throat as his eyes stared into mine, his fingers pulled my panties down gently.
I could hear him removing his pants, I chewed my bottom lip trying to control my breath. Chris placed his forehead against mine, a smile crept on my lips. I caressed his cheek, “If it hurts too much let me know and I’ll stop, okay.” He whispered. I nodded my head “Okay.” I whispered back, he pecked my lips softly. I mewled as I feel him sliding in me slowly and gentle, biting down on my lip causing a small drop of blood bleed out. Filled up with him, my breaths turned into small pants as he thrusted slowly. “Are you hurting?” He whispered I gaze into his glossy eyes, “I’m fine” I pant. Chris linked our fingers together, he was going at a steady pace letting me adjust his length.
“Chris…” I moaned as his thrusts became a bit faster, he buried his face in my neck. I could hear small grunts escape his lips, closing my eyes as bliss rushed through me. “My angel,” he whispered; feeling myself reaching my high, a gasp of pleasure passed my lips. Our chest raising heavily controlling our breaths, “I love you,” he murmurs I smile. “I love you too.” I whispered kissing him. “Shower with me before your parents find out you’re not home.” Chris said removing himself from me, covering myself with the sheets. “Can we lay like this for a minute?” I asked earning a warm smile from him as he wrapped his arms around me, I listen to his heartbeat feeling such calmness. I wouldn’t have it any other way, all those cheesy cliche romance flicks were all false except for one thing…the bliss of falling in love with someone special.
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fluffyydumplings · a day ago
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The Handsome Friend of a Friend
Gone - Part 4
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Summary: Jiwon, the guy who had a crush on you during elementary school is back in town. And he’s brought a friend with him. A broad-shouldered fashion illustrator with chiselled features like one of the many marble sculptures that Yoongi swears his life over. But.. ties run deeper than they appear. For aside from being a beauty he happens to be an old friend of Namjoon’s and a fellow part-timer of Yoongi’s. The fun part is, they both seem to be rather fond of him. Maybe even a little more than necessary. And you can see why. He’s one charming fellow.
Word Count: 7.7k
Genre: poly!au / painter!namjoon x sculptor!yoongi x fashion illustrator!jinx traveller!reader / angst / fluff/poetry / romance
Warnings: profanity / bad childhood memory (crying)
A/N: It barely took three days. I am flabbergasted by how quickly I was able to finish this chapter. It was calming to write. And when I reread it, I felt comforted.. This chapter is like a sip of hot tea on a rainy day, a blanket draped over your shoulder..
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Perched up by the window like a bird waiting for its morning feed, shades of olive and forest green paced back and forth against the partly rough yet ever so smooth paper of his sketchbook. A kitty in the room next to that of his, legs tall and strong as marble is broke off slightly on the sides and front - by the help of a grinder and his stable yet skilled pair of hands.
He might not be doing what the Ancient Greeks did, with all the machines that are now available, but that does not make his craft any less demanding or valuable for that matter. It speaks in how carefully yet with great pressure he is dealing with the block in his reach. For if he isn’t thorough or thoughtful enough, days of work and countless aching of muscles will go to waste. And at night, he’ll end up embracing his tired body with frowns and even sometimes tears of failure.
You?
‘Huhhhhh!’ yawning for the fucking tenth time, you struggle to move. Your body is so obsessed with the feeling of being in bed and doing nothing, it refuses to stop.
‘What a nice day-’
*ring ring*
Struggling to open your eyes, you are startled and hit the headboard.
‘Who the fuck are you?!’ you cry and scream dramatically at the same time.
‘Hello..’ it’s an unknown number, but that doesn't stop your grouchy voice from passing through to the other side.
‘Wrong number.. I’m going to hang-’
Interrupted once again, you are ready to punch whoever this bastard is. How dare they disturb your sleep like this? You aren’t done sleeping just yet! How dare they!!
‘Ahaha..’
Holy oranges.. You know who that is.
Ahdhjffhdhfhhfhdhhjndjdbtngngntjghhhgghhghgjnnghjj
‘It’s Jiwon, baby,’ you can hear him winking (not literally.. But, still) - that cocky little not-so-little bastard..!!!
Freezes up and regrets all two decades of your life. Because damn.. Your choices in terms of friends, suck.. They really fucking suck!
Okay, maybe he isn’t much of a friend. More like, that small little boy who used to trail behind your back in elementary school. Who called you Noona and once embarrassed you in front of the whole school by declaring his ‘love’ for you..
The moment still has you flushing red like a cranberry dipped in strawberry syrup. You told Namjoon and Yoongi the story a few months ago and they both flipped the fuck out and started cackling.
‘Is my pain funny to you?’ you recall yourself grimacing.
‘Yes, honey.. It is,’ Yoongi never stops, his eyes crinkling with what he calls: ‘sunshine moons’. Whatever he says? *eye roll*
Anyway..
‘Y/N, the love of my life!’
Mouth vomit.. Your feet were squirming as you prevent yourself from screaming in cringe at what your ears just witnessed.
‘What do you want, Jiwon?’
As much as Jiwon was not your favourite person ever - 100th favourite person, he has a special place in your head. Okay... Maybe heart too.
He’s the annoying small fry, that irritates the shit out of you, but you’d never get rid of for fuck’s sake.
‘Oh.. Noona! Don’t you miss me?’
This brat! You swear, if you ever see him again, you will snap his head off. Always goofing around with you.
'As if!'
'Ahhhh... My poor heart.'
'Why have you called, Ji?'
'Oh.. Aren't you going to ask about how I am doing?'
'Oh, Ji.. Fine, Fine. Yadi ya ya ya.. How are you doing, Ji?'
'Wonderful.. as you are now talking to me, Noona.'
'Flirty Ji is back at it again.'
'Oh, yes. I've got big news.'
'Did you get rid of that ridiculous bob cut of yours?'
You remember him and his yellow duckling plushy. Sometimes you'd question whether he or the inanimate cotton stuffed animal was that of the same breed. A part of you finds him more of a duck than it was. In the way he'd waddle around and continuously act cute, he was a duck in all of his glory.
The plushy was gone once adulthood reached. However, his bob cut remained the same. When you sent him off to his new job overseas, he still wore it ever so proudly - even if it made him look hideous.
'I did. How did you know? Do you have eyes on me? Are you watching from that camera over there?'
'I can't afford that. Am I a secret agent that works for the CIA or what?'
'Oooh.. Are you?'
'Want me to show you my cyanide pen?'
The beauty of knowing someone for so long is that you grow scarily comfortable with them. You can begin a conversation by talking about global warming and end the conversation by talking about clowns.
'Nooo.. Noona, Noooooo.'
'Whiny as always.'
You miss having someone to tease.
Caught in a lie~
Namjoon and Yoongi are two human beings that are constant in your life. You tease them whenever you get the chance to do so. You simply just missed Jiwon.
'So.. big news, Ji.'
'Don't tell me you are getting married too.'
You've grown into a habit of babbling non-stop. Was it because of the numbers that kept adding up every year, or was it simply because you had a lot to talk about? Perhaps it is both.
'Y/N noona. The only wedding I'll attend is ours.'
That- That- That little shit!
'Guess who's back from London?'
Holy oranges! Damn you, Min Yoongi and Kim Namjoon. One has to grow oranges and the other has to live off of oranges. What a pair! Farmer, consumer.. You? You are the fucking orange. 'We both love oranges. We both love you. You're an orange, Y/N.' Says Mr Kim Fucking Namjoon that accidentally broke his damn computer for the fucking fifth time this month. Surprisingly, it doesn't have a gigantic hole through it yet. You might have jinxed it. -ㅅ-
'Y/N berry boo blue, the love of my life.'
You're going to end up with loose teeth from all this grinding. Cringe, I tell you! Cringe!
'Is your place free?'
What the!!! Does he want to stay here? Go get a fucking hotel or motel to stay at! You don't run a resort. This place isn't even yours..
Time to pack your bags and scoot your ass out of here. You'll get a new identity, and toss your phone into the sea. Ewww.. Say no to pollution. You'll sell the phone and get money from it.
Then you'll buy a yacht. Laying down, sipping tea, two pretty and kind-hearted boys on the side, fresh air and the sound of waves crashing. Fabulous. Isn't it?'
'Noona?' pleading voice.
You are weak for that.. Your knees already ache!! fdshggfjhgfjhfjhfhvhjhhvfbhnmbhm
'Yes.. And why do you ask?'
You suck at lying.. Honesty was an aspect of a person you admired most. You couldn't lie.
'I brought a friend with me. He needs a place to stay.'
'What the!! Are you sure you didn't bring a lunatic along with you? What if he kills me?'
'No.. No.. He's a Fashion illustrator who got a job transfer to Korea.'
'And that excuses him from being a possible murderer of some sort?'
'No..'
'But still.. He's safe, I guarantee my life on it.'
They must be close. You'll consider it. 'Consider', not accept.
'Is he a foreigner? With the British accent and all?'
You can hear laughter spring deep from him. The type that has your stomach clenching and your eyes watery.
'Ahahhhaaa..' his laughter only gets louder and louder over time.
'I can't... breathe,' he really can't. By the way, his word are stuck in his throat, it is evident that he's barely breathing.
'Pure breed Korean. Can't speak English for fuck's sake. Eats Korean, inhales Korean and drinks Korean.'
Man.. He's real serious about this guy not knowing his English.
'Ayeeee!' a rather aggravated and playful voice shouts.
Yep.. Korean. That 'Ayeeeee!' screamed: "If I'm not Korean, what am I?"
'Bring him over. I'll see if I'll let him stay or not.'
You can't let your guard down. You have a profound set of trust issues. Profound set of trust issues? What the fucking oranges. (Yep.. at it again).. Trust issues towards homo sapiens, trust issues towards animals and trust issues towards objects. What?! That panda might be cute, but it can rip your face off. Oh.. Yes! Those pall point pens - they can blind you with that evily sharp tip of theirs. You are already blind.. can't risk your eyesight getting any worse than it already is.
'Are you going to interrogate him? The man's going to pee in his pants. The guy can't kill a fly.. No.. The guy starts running like superman when he sees.. You know what! Not even a fly. He starts freaking out at fruit flies. He's a scaredy-cat, and coward in one package.'
Damn.. What a fun guy! What?! He sounds fun, okay. Fun! Unlike those assholes who act strong, but are weak shit. We appreciate an honest man. Who the fuck cares? Why do men have to be strong all the time? Haven't we established that a long time ago? Fuck those stereotypes. This guy's adorable.. You feel it.. You feel it.. From your soul. And- And- And.. the oranges that Namjoon harvested this morning.
'I'll be the judge of that.’
AHAAHJAAA.. You just pictured.. You and Yoongi playing the bad cop, and Namjoon sitting there and trying to be understanding - the good cop.
'Aigo! Painters are different for sure.. Aigo!' you can hear that grumpy man fussing on and on about how kind Joon is - the grumpy old man that you love dearly.
'So.. Yes?'
'Aigo! Did I say no? Bring this friend of yours over.. I won't scare him too much.'
'Too much? The guy's ready to use spring onions to scare you away. And that's his precious baby. In his words: 'Flavour.' Go easy on him.'
'He's like the older brother I never had. When I first arrived there, I had no one. That's what I thought. Until he came out of nowhere and went: 'Do you want me to help you around.' He's pretty big over in England, you see.. He's also very much familiar with the place I'm working at.'
'He's my life saviour.. Or as he likes to call himself: the handsome angel that descended from heaven to save me.'
Full of himself.. He's quite full of himself.. Interesting.
'I'm going to miss having him around. Take good care of him.'
But if Jiwon is fond of him, you are too. Jiwon doesn't hang around with just anyone. You recall his mother suggesting he make friends with this other rather scrawny little boy when he was younger. He outright refused and cried no. That same boy then appeared on the tv one day, arrested for arson. You remember many other occurrences like this. Jiwon's got a good eye and hunch. You trust him…
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
*ding dong*
'That must be him..' you poke playfully at Yoongi.
'Honey.. Why are you hitting me? And.. Why are you pouting? I mean.. you look adorable as always. But.. Why?'
Yoongi's care for you run miles and hours and through days and nights. 525,600 minutes are in year. His love for you is beyond that. He might never name a star after you ( he probably would if you asked him to), but every day he assures you that you are his entire universe - you and Namjoon. His family.. The people he would want more than ever to spend the rest of his life with.
'Without you guys, my life would be so boring. You are like chisels that shape me into a better person every day. Without my chisels, I'm a mere marble block.' his head on your lap, and his feet on Namjoon's lap (muscular fucking thighs that Yoongi secretly loves to squeeze), he becomes all sentimental.
You tease him for that once in a while.. Any time your Yoonie is soft, your heart turns into mush. The good kind of soft fluffy cotton mush.
'He's here..' you hug onto his arm - his pretty and cuddly arm.
'I know, honey.. You told me that two hours ago.'
'We need to go open the door for him, honey... It's pretty chilly outside.'
'Okay..' you never stop holding onto him.
Even as he attempts to open the door. Yes.. attempt.. Because..
'Wu-wait! What if he hurts you?.. I don't want to hurt you,' at that he giggles.
'Y/nieee, honey.. That was why you were scared? I'll be fine. I can protect myself,' he pats you gently on the head.
His silly baby..
You might be wondering. Where in the world did sensible Ms Y/n go? Can't a person be silly for once? This is a side of you that exists. There is nothing to be ashamed of.
'I'll open the door in a count of three. Three.. two.. one..' you close your eyes, but then light shines through.
Revealing a pretty face... A really pretty face.. Like, holy oranges. So fucking pretty! jnvdjjdjjhdgjjjdjhjdvjbvdvvvbb
'Jin hyung?'
Wait a moment.. He knows him? And you were scared for a second. Forehead slap.. literally!
'Ahahahahaha. You were scared of him?' This guy used to get startled by the sound of a blender turning on.'
'And yes, I used to work part-time at a cafe. 11th grade..'
You learn something new every day. One thing for sure is, Yoongi looks beautiful with an apron wrapped around his waist. Oh, how badly you wish you could have been with him then. There's no use crying over spilt milk though. It's not like you can walk through some humongous time machine and beg him to not move away. The past is in the past. All that matters now is the fact that he is here with you.
You can now wake up every morning (except for those times where "mommy" dearest actually realises that you are missing and calls the shit out of your phone) to a kitchen wafting of bread dipped in egg and milk, pan-fried to utter perfection. The smell and thought of Yoongi's homemade french toast has your feet curling out of joy.
The best part.. Drum roll please! Yoongi wearing an apron, his morning kisses, Namjoon's back hugs and his deep yet sexy morning voice. :]..
'Yahhh! You can't embarrass me the moment I arrive here. What will Y/N think of me?' Jin's ears are flaring red.
He looks about ready to explode/run away.
'After having to endure the wrath and stupidity of countless of customers, fellow employees and employers you get an inch closer or so.'
'An inch! Yi-yahhhhhh! I'm disappointed.. I thought we were closer than that.'
So.. Is this 'Jin' guy just going to stand outside and continue with looking attractive as heck? He's going to start blending in with his background soon. With his burnt orange scarf, sweater and leggings.. He seems to love the colour. Or is this shade in trend at the moment? - whatever the kids these days say. He's a fashion illustrator.. It could be.
The leaves are pumpkin orange this month, all plummeting to the ground. To gain something you have to lose something - nature is a perfect example of that. Through the shedding of leaves, water is conserved.
Lost is a beautiful process, the trees whisper into your ear. And you admit, it speaks the truth. Lost is as beautiful just as it is painful. The last breath a person takes before they die, the struggle to speak and the sad, thankful, yet regretful smile or frown on their faces as death embraces them. The thought of such has your stomach churning, yet your lips going: 'So.. this is the beauty of life. Beauty is painful.'
But.. seriously though. That gorgeous face of his is going to start looking like a crispy orangey-brown leaf any moment soon. What are we going to do next? Grind him up into orange juice?
'You should come inside.'
You are not dragging a corpse off of your (Yoongi's) front gate. Well, technically Yoongi only inhabits one apartment in this building. Nevertheless, your house. You might not pay the bills or rent, but the fact that you consider this place home is enough. Yoongi considers you a permanent guest. What more is there to it?
‘Thank you, Y/Nshi.’
You have to admit. He isn’t anything you expected him to be. Humble and rather down to earth. Not as narcissistic as you expected him to be. You can’t judge a book till you finish it. I guess Jin will be judged according to that saying - the one you made up in a matter of five seconds.
‘I will introduce my-’
‘I think we should get you warm and cuddled up first before we get to that.’
Oh, Y/niee.. Why did you interrupt him? That wasn’t polite of you.
‘Oh- I’m sorry for interrupting you.’
‘No.. No.. No.. not at all. I should have waited till we entered the apartment first.’
‘If you say so,’ your lips meet awkwardly. It isn’t a smile, it’s an impromptu method of easing the tense air lingering above two strangers.
There are people you meet that will click with you with instantly - like Namjoon. But there will be others that you will only grow closer to within time. The puzzle pieces that once refused to meet, trimmed down to do so.
‘Go on, Yoongi..’
‘Come this way, Hyung,’ his fingers accidentally brush up Jin’s one.
Now that Yoongi realises, it would be easier this way. Thus, he intertwines his hands with that of Jin’s. Cold..
Did he eat a plate of snow for breakfast? Man.. His hands are cold. Antarctica cold~ That didn't matter though. What he was meant to do, was drag Jin’s ass inside. And that was exactly what he did.
‘Namjoon.-ah. You finished painting, Joon?’
‘Yeah...’ he nods, the mocha turtle neck he had on transforming him into the big puppy he is.
‘There is nothing to be afraid of,’ Yoongi informs Jin, patting him on the back.
‘Yahh!! I know that!’ his annoyed face is more adorable than it is annoyed.
‘Holy.. Jin Hyung!!!!’
Wait.. Wait a moment! Another one? Fucking oranges!!
Jin’s list of acquaintances never ends. Imagine Santa and his list of toys - that’s Jin and the people who know him.
Everyone seems to know him. It’s because of how friendly and loveable the twenty-year-old is. He has a lot of charm to him.
You would never accept it for the love of oranges. But.. You liked him the moment you heard Jiwon talk of him. And when Yoongi and Namjoon expressed their feelings towards the elder, you just grew to like him more. You could see the sparkles that glazed their throats upon having his name meet their lips. If a man is liked by so many, there is no way he is bad. Especially when these very people are the most heart-warming and valuable beings in your world.
‘Kim Namjoon.. If it isn’t smart cutie in the corner,’ blood trailed the corners of Namjoon’s cheeks.
‘Do you perhaps know that retired baker that now keeps on burning his bread?’
You were going to go for it. If he knew Jiwon, Yoongi and Namjoon. What are the chances of him not knowing Mr Lee?
‘Do you smell that?’
‘Oh shit.. Is Mr Lee at it again? Close the windows or something.’
‘My heart is burning for you.’
You stood there, mouth ready for birds to nest in. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! The cringe!!!! Aghhhhhhhhhhhdbbfhhhfhfhfhfhgh!!! Hhsjdjdjd
‘Ahhhhhhhh!!’ Yoongi is the first to scream.
If anyone heard him, they would have thought the apartment caught on fire and people were trapped inside.
‘Hehehe..’ Namjoon just giggles to his heart's content.
They were the same as he remembered them as. The one that was all flustered and shy at his jokes, and the one that started screaming like crazy at how cheesy yet absurd they were.
He misses these two. He knew a lot of people, but they never meant much to him.
And perhaps there was even a time where he used to flush over their words. Okay.. there was. Namjoon was the cute guy in the corner, with dimples and pretty caramel skin that he used to gush over and take quick glimpses of. The same guy who he soon gradually got to know through a group project - the one where they had to make a 3D solar system model. (He recalls cussing at his teachers the whole duration of the project.) The same guy he lost contact with after tenth grade.
Yoongi on the other hand. He apparently had been studying with Jin ever since sixth grade, but they never gave a fuck or tried to give a fuck about each other. Then one day, 16.. 17-ish-year-old Yoongi started showing up at all of Jin's part-time workplaces. They started off with cleaning or taking orders not so comfortably by each other's sides, and the next thing you know they are standing up for each other against unfair treatment.
Everything seems to lead to a bomb of dad jokes, whether it was Joon or Yoon. After all, Jin has a great passion for them. Plus.. They make him happy.
'So.. Do we let him stay, or do we throw him out on the streets and let him starve?'
You were messing with them. Someone like Jin would be a great addition to this home. He's all cheesy and gross. Namjoon and Yoongi have been quite out of it lately. They haven't been themselves lately.. Until now that is.
'We keep him.'
...Kitty eyes, yeehaw! Yep, we are keeping him. Just keep up with those kitty eyes, Min Yoongi.
'Can we keep him?'
...Small Namu with innocent eyes. Yipeeee! We are keeping him. WE ARE KEEPING YOU, SIR JIN!
'You do realise that Yoongs own this place, right Joon?'
'Can we keep him, Y/niee?' Yoongi sits down on the sofa and acts nonchalant, despite knowing what he did to your poor heart.
'Boo, it ain't my fault if you end up getting stabbed.'
'Ahahahaaaha.. Did we just witness the 'Y/N' using the word ain't? I should have recorded this. This is a moment that deserves to be recorded down in history..'
'Jin, do introduce yourself.'
You are not letting this man expose you like this. You are very out of date, and you know that well. But.. Min fucking Yoongi, you are getting nothing out of this.
'Kim Seokjin.. 24 years old. Fashion illustrator that is in need of a home to stay. Has extraordinary cooking skills, can't sew, and enjoys listening to the sound of birds singing.'
'I'm a fashion illustrator. I only draw, I haven't got a single clue of how fabric works.'
Straightforward and hates going on and about. Nice..
'How long are you going to be staying here for?'
'Until I find a suitable place for me to stay at.'
This was starting to sound like a job interview more than anything. Scarier even.. Jin is frankly scared of you more than he was that of those snazzy fashion designers that eyed him up and down two years ago.
'You can stay..' you assure him with a smile.
A smile that made him feel accepted and welcomed. One that prompted him to smile as well. Oh boy.. What a gentle smile it was? He's adorable..
'Thank you,' he felt a sense of gratitude towards you.
He would have ended up sleeping on the streets if it weren't for the three of you. Oh, the embarrassment he would have felt if he arrived at work the next day, covered in grime. He might end up getting fired on the spot. Appearance is pretty important over in this field - or any job for that matter. No one wants a filthy rat working for them. It isn't fun having people whisper: This company hires blah blah blah.
Jin would also hate to disappoint his younger self. He loves this job, he doesn't want to lose it. Not after all those nights spent buried under his covers, studying fashion that people preferred and liked at the moment. Not after all those days spent sketching a design over and over again, simply because he isn't satisfied yet.
'Yoonieeee.. What are we having for breakfast this time?' he turns over to look at you.
'Oatmeal.. Oatmeal soaked in almond milk overnight, honey.. Your favourite.'
Ahahahhahahaa! Yaaaaaass! You love yourself some good old oatmeal. It's filling, nutritious and delicious. You'd kill someone for a bowl of that right now. A jar.. plate.. It's oatmeal either way. Who cares?
'Eat slowly. You can't choke and die just yet. You can't leave me.'
You laugh.. The future is cruel.. Life is cruel.. You were aware of it then. But you didn't know how far life was willing to drag you down. If only-
'Why?'
'Because I love you, honey.. Now, eat your breakfast.'
'You have a shift at 12:30 pm.. Eat up.'
He says it out of nowhere,
My heart set up on fire,
My cheeks red from love,
I love this man more than ever,
Oh, my love..
I'll never leave you,
I had thought then,
But I was lying,
Lying without even knowing
'Excuse me, sir.. How dare you say that out of nowhere?'
What were you? In the musical Hamilton?
'Ayee! Ayee! Aye! Eat up, honey,' evil flares up his way.
You evil man.. How dare you! How dare you-
'Uhmm.'
Well.. This oatmeal is scrumptious. Props to Min Yoongi for making this for you. And.. Kim Namjoon who grew these strawberries.
'Yummy.. You are forgiven, sir.'
'I love you Y/Niee.. Uh- mm uhmm.. This is great, man.'
Not another one! AHhhhhhhhhhh!
'What? Morning ritual, Bae.'
Stunned! Yo, Kim Namjoon. Don't 'Bae' me, focus on the bowl.. If he drops it, he pays.. Yoongi made those. They are special.
"If he drops it, he pays." As in, you both get to attack him with tickles and kisses.
'I love you, Joonie..'
You brought a knife to a gunfight, bae.. I'm sorry, bae..
'Oh..'
Backfired! Cuteness Attack... A-i-eeek-ag-i-eek-ag
'Just eat, already.'
'Huhhh,' Jin twinkles from the way you interact with one another.
This perhaps is the beauty of love- those little banters, where you pretend you are mad when you really aren't.
Sometimes the sight of their face can drown bad days with joy and make them good, but sometimes they are the reason why you end up crying on the bathroom floor all night.
Yet, you choose to stay for a reason.. Because you believe, trust, love and care too much to even think of leaving.
Maybe Jin was meant to find his way here, after all. He has a hard time believing in fate, however, this.. It contradicts his believes.
'Jin Hyung... Do you want some pancakes instead? I know you aren't quite fond of oatmeal as Y/n over here is.'
'Yeah.. sure.. Why not?'
Eating calmly as ever, you watch over Yoongi's back. People always think of a relaxing day, as one where they are laying on a folding chair, orange juice in one hand and the breath-taking see right ahead of them. Your version of a relaxing day is this. Watching over the love of your lives was more than any beach could offer.
'Pancakes.. For a Kim Seokjin.. I'm looking for a Kim Seokjin.. Pancake 120492?'
Will you look at that? Min Yoongi just grew plane wings and is now looking for his missing passenger. Plane wings made out of pancake mix, powdered sugar and maple syrup.
'I am Pancake 120492..'
'Enjoy.. Don't choke on it.'
'Yahh! Is that a threat?'
'So.. what if it is?'
'Don't fight just yet, children..' Namjoon stuffs a spoonful of food into his mouth.
'Listen to Caretaker Joonie, children.'
'Yes, mommy,' Jin nods, speaking in a rather mocking tone.
And as time progresses, they get closer and closer. So close.. you can't help but notice the way they glance at him - because it's the same way they glance at you. The: 'I love you †o the moon and back.. and so much more,’ glance. Is it so wrong of you to feel a pang of jealousy here and there, when they always will be yours?
It's your insecurities persuading you to believe so. For now, it succeeds. Because when you look at Jin, you see perfection. When you look at yourself, you see cracks.
And to fill in those cracks, you hissed at the gold that could have fixed you up instead of the glue that is now there. You avoided him... Yet even if so, he’d treat you well.
‘We ran out of rolled oats. I’ll get some on my way to work.’
‘There’s this shop I visit often.. They were displaying this cute little brown teddy bear. I recall Yoongi telling me about your love for teddy bears. So, I bought it.. Because.. Because it reminds me of you.’
‘I was cleaning around and saw that your alarm clock was set up to the wrong time. So, I fixed it for you.’
Despite his efforts and kind acts, you remain emotionless.. You were grateful though - for every one of them. You just didn't know how to say thank you. You feel bad.. Jin was too good for words. You were nothing..
I guess by how Jin stopped interacting with you all of a sudden and how Jin tended to pretend that you were never there, your theory was proven. Then again, it’s your fault for being so terrible at expressing emotions.
Namjoon and Yoongi though? You didn't have problems with them.. How is Jin different?
Maybe.. because- he’s older? You haven’t had such pleasant experiences with those who are older than you are. And now you are applying that to him. Afraid to express what you feel.. What if he steps all over you because he’s older and ‘wiser’?
What if he- What if he-
You wish you would have the courage to engage in a conversation with him and put your past aside. You wish you could clear the air and start anew.. Jin’s a fantastic person. And you care for him and enjoy his company.
For, after Jin built a dam between the two of you. You often find yourself peeking over walls or anywhere to get a glimpse of him. To see whether he bought something for you, did something for you or wanted to tell you a bunch of cringey art jokes. Some cringey art jokes you kind of miss.. Like, a lot..
And that opportunity comes quicker than you ever thought it would - you never thought it would come to begin with. Yet here you were, caught right into their traps.
'Oatmeal cookies.. Oatmeal cookies..' you muttered innocently, wandering your way through the pantry.
Your version of a garden-like utopia.. The chocolate pies, Berlandriera Lyratas that are still yet ever so alluring. The Cheese puffs, dandelions pollinated by the wind. The red packet of ramen, fertile soil that is the foundation to everything. A packet of lollipops, green grass singing along with the wind.
There is a door in and out of this garden of yours. A door that can shut close and struggle to open any fleeting moment - that moment was now. For the two guards outside were irritated by the the stubbornness of their queen, and wanted her to fix the problem she has with the newly instated knight. He is an important figure in her life, and they do not want her to regret losing him.
'Nutella.. Nutella..'
Two birds trapped into a cage they willingly entered.
*ppupp*
You were locked inside.. With him! With the one man, you tried to avoid for so long!
'I think we're trapped in here.. No- We are trapped in here.'
Face your fears, they say. You're going to tell Jin everything you've always wanted to tell him.
'Let's keep ourselves entertained.. Shall we?' it seems like you were the only one who was trying.
'Oh- Aren't you going to talk? I can't talk all day, Mr World Wide Handsome. Ah- Ah-.. My throat already hurts,' you stress out, your lips jutted out into a pout.
This was the friendliest you have ever been to him. He likes it.. He's been envious of your attitude towards the other two for a while now. You are always so relaxed and chill around them. With him.. your eyebrows contract, your face freezes up and your hands quiver. You couldn't stand him. At first, he thought it was because he was a stranger you weren't familiar with. For that reason, he tried getting closer to you. To no avail, he concluded that you simply didn't want him around. So.. he stopped trying.
When you distance yourself from someone, it only makes you want them more. You weren't like chocolate to him, you were a bowl of raspberries. You weren't an unhealthy obsession his mother would try to hide in the cabinets. You were something he needed, wanted and craved. You were good for him.
'What do you want me to say?' the heat that branched out from his lips traced over your fingers and neck.
The cabinet was small.. You were now huddled together in the dark. You enjoyed having him close by. He was always too far away.
Having him so close like this brings a rise to certain thoughts that were buried deep underground and once out of reach. Even when you barely could see anything, his eyelashes you could count and his eyes you were intrigued with. What would it feel like to have him hold you? What would it feel like to lay against his chest?
'Whatever you want? Something you want.. uhh.. you want to get off of your chest? We could die in here for all you know.. Better die relived rather than frustrated.'
'Ahahhaa.. What type of logic is that?'
There's the Seokjin you missed.. The one you drove away..
'My logic.'
You weren't wrong. He can't do anything about it.. -ㅅ-
'Nice logic,' his eyes rolled all the way back.
This guy!
'Then follow it,' you are firm in terms of sorting things out.
How does he even start?
‘Why do you hate me so much?’ his eyes are big and pleading, he was desperate to know.
‘I don’t hate you, Jin..’
It's true.. You don't hate him. It's just- just- complicated.. Extremely complicated.
‘Then why do you treat me differently?’
‘What do you mean, by “differently”..’
You understood what he meant. You just wanted to stall a little more time.
You know how stupid you are. You know the moment Jin realises that he’ll only hate you further.
‘Unlike that of how you treat Namjoon and Yoongi.’
‘Because you’re older.’
Your father and mother were mountains. Too tall to reach, and never willing to reach down to your height or even turn their backs around. You were a hill in need of attention.. Yet you only got fed with the privilege of being alive. Your height grew over time, but the confidence in you plummeted into a void of non-existence.
‘We’re two worlds apart. I’m not supposed to talk in such a way with people who are older than I am.’
He saw how broken you were.. He saw the memories in your eyes. Your cornea a looking glass he had access to. It wasn’t yours that he saw, it was his imagination reflecting his childhood memories onto that of yours. A small girl crying in the corner, the curtain that covered her tear-stained face the only comfort she could get. He saw that.
He was born the heir to a company he never wanted. The only reason to why he is where he is now is the night his father announced his retirement. The same night he dropped down to his knees and dared to stoop so low. Clinging to his father’s feet, refusing to let go. Screaming and crying for the decision to be taken back.
‘I need a few more years.. Give me four years..’
‘So you can have a taste of that dream job of yours? You know Seok-Woo can never run the company.. He’s not like you.’
‘Yes.. That's all I need. I’ll take over after the four-year mark reaches. So, please reconsider..’
‘You better keep that promise of yours. Or I’ll have to make sure you keep it myself.’
Four years is a lot, he remembers thinking.. Somehow, two have already passed by.
‘I want you to treat me like you do everyone. I’m not anyway superior to you because of my age. You can talk to me, tease me or even make fun of me. I don’t mind.’
Was he for real?
‘Is this a joke of some kind?’ shock morphed into your eyes.
‘What the oranges?’ ‘Oh my!’ ‘Really?’ he could see it swirling in the corner and hanging onto your eyelashes. You tried to hide them, but passion fueled your gazing tool. He could read your thoughts..
‘The thought of speaking against someone that was more advanced in age than I was scared me too. Then I woke up one day and realised that it was nothing. If someone is wrong they should be corrected. Even if they are older. Humans are either wrong or right. There is no in-between.’
‘I’ll try.. I can’t promise you anything though.’
‘You don't have to promise me anything.. Just be yourself.’
You sit there, legs touching and hips attached. You could hear every breath and every gulp he took, just as he did you.
‘I don’t hate you, Jin. I quite like you actually.’
‘Hahhahaa,’ he bursts into laughter, the windows outside being wiped clean not as loud as he was.
‘Why are you laughing?’
‘I like you too..’
You smile. You are glad that he does.
You were a plain white dress buried and hidden among a pile of clothes. He picked you up and glued flowers where he thought you needed them. You are now no longer a plain white dress. You are a gown elegant enough to belong in a fashion exhibit of some sort.
‘I love the teddy bear you bought for me.. I love teddy bears.’
‘I know.. That's why I bought it, silly.’
‘Don’t call me silly,’ you pout excessively.
‘But you are silly..’ he has an evil glint and smirk sewed on his face, ‘Do you know what else is silly?’
‘What? What else is silly, Mr World Wide Handsome?’
‘My love for you.’
‘Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!’
‘I knew you would react like that.’
‘Tell me more?’
What a weird person you were..
‘I’m sewing you for how beautiful you are,’ his hands reenacted the sewing of fabric, stitching slowly across the surface of his shirt.
‘You can’t sew..’
‘Ayeeee!! That’s beside the point of my clever joke.’
This man and his self-esteem. How does one become so confident in themself? You ought to ask him that..
‘How are you so self-assertive?’
‘We’re all imperfect pieces of shit. If we don't accept ourselves.. Who else will?’
‘Y/N-ah.. How long are we going to be stuck in here for?’ he pulls you close to his chest.
He loves the way you smell.
‘What type of shampoo and lotion do you use?’
‘I- what?’
‘You smell nice.’
It would take even the visually impaired only a few minutes to spot the red on your cheeks.
He was so close.. He too smelt nice.. He looks so pretty.. His voice is beautiful.. He’s Jin..
You were this close to falling asleep when the door creaked open.
‘Ahaaa!! Our plans worked!’
‘Yahhhhhhh!!’ Jin is the first to scream.
‘You bastards,’ and you are the first to yank on their ears.
‘Honey, owieee..’
‘Noona.. Ouch..’
‘Don’t go owieee or ouch at me you two.’
‘Yeah.. don’t. We could have died in there!’ Jin backs you up.
Your cheeks hurt.. Oh, how happy you are to have him back.
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You'd think pumpkins would disappear by the time November reached, but fall wouldn't be complete without one. The carved faces and bright lights might have gone away, but pumpkin lattes and pies were everywhere. The sweetness invading bakery windows and your way home. They were enticing, orange and comforting.. It was about time you picked one up.
'One pumpkin pie and two cinnamon rolls, please.'
You strolled back with great pleasure. Opening the door to a scene you soon were to treasure. They were all asleep on the couch, a bowl of a quarter-finished popcorn left dry and cold on the table nearby.
You are to cherish them for a minute or more. After.. They are to wake up.
'Pretty boys.. Wake up! Choppidy Chop Chop! Today's campfire night. Remember?’
Would anyone be angry to have to wake up to such a sweet voice? If you were being productively deep into sleep, you would. Sweet or not, some people need their sleep.
'Uhhhh! But, Yoon Yoon needs his sleep.'
'Ewwwww.. Did you just call yourself, Yoon Yoon? Ahhh- where's my Yoongi? Bring him back!'
'Ayu..Wady, yu call me - uhhhh.. Yoongi Boongi and Yunniee.'
'Nam Nam is sweepy tooo.'
'Jin-' your hands fall on his lips.
'Wood Choppidy Chop Chop, gentlemen!'
'Alright.. Alright..'
And so they began hacking down pieces of wood, as you help of course. Candidly, you were never good at this.
Namjoon wasn't any good at it either, Jin might have went off track upon the arrival of the insect kingdom, Yoongi got distracted once or twice by the kitty hiding by the trees. The camp-firing life wasn't for you. Is it for anybody though?
As the fire illuminates your faces that glisten with sweat, the moonlight casted beautifully onto the lake's surface. Embracing your tired bodies with its hovering presence. Was the fire worth building? The warmth that bubbled from your inner soul would agree.
'Jin.. Tell me one of your jokes. Because I'm about to get all sentimental,' you manoeuvre your way next to him, leaning against his head and sharing his blanket.
'I'd tell you one about the moon, but that joke is full of holes.
'Now.. proceed with what you do best, Ms Sentimental.'
'Time passes by so quickly, Jin.. It feels like I've only met you a few days ago. Yet, in reality, a year has passed by.'
'We met in October of last year. It's November of the next year.'
'Is this when you confess to me?'
Aggaagagagaaggag!
'What?!'
'Honey.. Isn't it great that no one can hear whatever the hell we say here?'
'Yeah.. it is. I can curse at my boss all I want, and he wouldn't know.'
‘Me.. too.’
'Yoon, Joon.. You don't work for anyone.'
'Yeah.. we are shouting at our work-selves.'
'Yahh! I should be the one who's doing that. I have an actual boss.'
'Go ahead, Mister..' Namjoon urges.
'Okay.. I'm shouting now! If I burst your eardrums, I take no responsibility.'
'MR JEON! I FUCKING HATE YOU! FUCK YOU, OLD MAN!' he reacts with his whole body, jumping up and down insanely.
'Yoons, is he okay?'
'Bae, he is.'
'Ewwww... You learned that from Joon. Didn't you?'
'Sorry Bae.. It isn't me.'
'Sure, it isn't Juan..'
'Ayee! My name isn't Juan.'
'Haha..'
'What do you want, Key?'
'Yahhhh!'
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It's always the unexpected that meets with a surprise. Today marks the second year with Namjoon. Just because another ending is approaching, it doesn't mean that there is no room for new beginnings.
Closing up the flower shop, you soak up the flavours of the night.
'Here..' you were soon gifted two flowers.
One a daffodil and another a rose.
'What are they for?' you eyed your boss suspiciously.
The sweet old lady, the parent you've always wanted.
'What do they mean, Y/N dear?'
'Daffodils.. new beginnings.. roses.. love.'
'Here..' you were gifted a bouquet, a white card hanging loosely on top.
'Travel postcards and stamps?'
A bouquet of fucking travel postcards and stamps!! Hdjdjjdjf!!!
'The handsome fellow dropped by months ago and begged me to make it for him.'
*opens card*
Dear, Y/niee.. ._.
I discussed it all with Namjoon and Yoongi yesterday. They said they wouldn't mind me be being part of your relationship. They would love for me to join actually.. That's what they said.. (Is that too straightforward of me?)
We have known each other for quite a while, haven't we? Don't tell Namjoon and Yoongi this. But.. I've always had a crush on them. (pinky promise).. That's far from what the point of this letter is.. aishh! I don't know how to say this.. eek.!
I like all of you. Love.. actually.. (Is it too early for that?). It's true though. I love all of you.. Namjoon and Yoongi seem to like me in such a way too (romantically). I'm really happy they do.
There's one person I haven't asked out yet. And.. that's you..I was really nervous. I know we didn't start off well. But.. Here goes nothing. I hate how I can’t say this in person. One, because I’m busy. Two, because I know I’d turn red and up running away. And three, I'm allergic to pollen.
I wanted this to be special.. I would love to see your face right now, Y/N love. Are you smiling or are you disgusted?
Uhhh.. Y/N, will you be mine?.. (I'm so bad at this)
- Love, Jin
*holds card to heart*
'He was sneezing horribly under that mask of his. He came over to see how everything was, yesterday.'
'You can leave now, dear.. I can close the shop by myself.'
'Are you sure?'
'Yess.. yesss. I am sure! Now go!'
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'Are they okay? My boys.. Are they okay! YAhhhhh! Where the fuck are you, Jimin!
‘Woah.. Woah.. I was busy alright.’
‘Are they okay?’ your eyes haunted him, submitting him into feelings of empathy and sorrow.
‘I can’t tell you. Those above me forbid me to do so. You'll know once you view the next window.’
‘What is the next window?’
‘You already know what it is.’
‘The future?’
‘Mhmmm..’
‘The future..’
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Menu Time!
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85 notes · View notes
coffeeebeeans · a day ago
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the wind's agony
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Notes : wrote this instead of working on my requests akdsalskdnalsk. anyways, comfort with a side of angst comin' right up :)
Pairing : xiao x reader (pronouns not mentioned)Genre : comfort with a tiiiiny bit of angst (im sorry i dont know if it counts as comfort or not, im new to this kind of thing gbkadsjbaksd)
Synopsis : after a particularly nightmare filled night for the both of you, you and xiao find solace with each other
Warnings : (dunno if this counts but i'll put it here anyways) mentions of nightmares
Word count : 815
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Again. He clutched at his ears, a desperate attempt to block out the blood curdling screams. It was futile. He had devoured the dreams of others, and now it was coming back to haunt him. Tonight, his fellow yaksha’s voices were among the chorus. The sound of their howls felt like burdens upon his shoulders, weighing him down. Ropes of what seemed like blood reached out towards him. He didn’t try to fight it, only allowing his karmanic binds to grab ahold of his limbs. Then, the pain began.
He had grown accustomed to the pain, having had this dream nearly every night. But tonight, it was different. He saw you, hovering just out of reach, as if taunting him. Now he did struggle. Fighting against the crimson binds, he reached out towards you. You seemed so out of place, a glaze lily among a field of blood. His fingertips brushed over what could have been you, only for his hand to go right through you, the very image of you evaporating. How foolish of him. Why had he reached out for you, a mere mortal? He knew the answer deep down, but he did not dare admit it.
Then, he awoke.
The night breeze tickled his scalp, his hair dancing in the wind as he sat up abruptly. Taking in deep inhales, he forced himself to calm down.
Breathe
He commanded himself to take slow deep breaths, to calm down. But his thoughts were crowded. Thoughts of you. Forcing himself onto unsteady legs, he moved soundlessly to the balcony, overlooking the rest of wangshu inn and the land below. Tracing his finger absentmindedly along the wood grains on the railing, he wondered what you were doing at this late hour.
“Xiao?” a voice came from behind him. He whipped around, shoulders tensing, until he saw you.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that” he let his shoulders drop as he observed your figure. “I might hurt you”
You had merely shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep?” he hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Me neither” you came up to the railing, eyes fixated on the stars twinkling furiously in the sky above
“The sky is clear tonight” he observed, in a voice so quiet you wouldn’t have heard him were you not standing next to him. You nodded in agreement, rubbing your eyes. Xiao noticed that they looked bleak. Upon closer examination, Xiao thought he could see the paths of tears that might have run down your face. A small nudge from you brought him back to attention
“Were you staring at me?” ah. So his gaze did not escape your observant eyes. He nodded in response
“Nightmare?” Despite the lack of words, he understood that you too had a nightmare, the weariness in your eyes confirmed his thesis.
“Yeah” he looked around at the landscape around wangshu inn, his eyes wandering. From here, he could see a river, the moon’s light reflecting off the water, visible even from the inn. Or maybe it was just his eyesight. He didn't know.
In your presence, he seemed to have temporarily been freed from his nightmares. He was glad for your aura. It seemed to cleanse him of all the sins he had committed, all the dreams he had devoured.
He shook off his thoughts as he looked at you once more, your skin illuminated under the moonlight, hair swaying in the slight breeze. There was something in your eyes, a sorrow that he did not expect to see from you. Your gaze turned to him once more, and he looked away in embarrassment.
“Anything wrong?” your voice, clear and melodious wafted through the air
“No.”
“You sure?” you looked at him with concern etched into your features. He did not reply, instead choosing to observe the scenery
“Hey, I've got an idea” your voice, suddenly more cheery made him glance back at you, intrigued
“Well?”
“Well,” you started, seemingly unsure of whether or not you wanted to continue “Since it appears that we both get nightmares frequently, maybe…” you trailed off, a light blush, barely visible under the moonlight, tinted your cheeks
“Go on,” he prompted
“Maybe we could,” you smiled at him awkwardly “Sleep with each other?”
Now his face was on fire, not that you could tell. Your eyes were cast downwards, perhaps embarrassed by your suggestion
“NOT IN THAT WAY OF COURSE” you added quickly once you realised he was staring at you, cheeks a deep crimson
“Of course” you looked at him in surprise as he spoke “As long as it helps you” he smiled awkwardly, half expecting you to withdraw your offer. Your eyes twinkled at that, and you flashed him a shy smile
“Shall we head inside then?” you held out a hand to him, and he reluctantly took it, a small smile still present on his face
“As you wish”
77 notes · View notes
mikanotes · a day ago
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end of it all
gi-hun x gn!reader (platonic)
genre: angst, light comfort
warnings: reader has ocd, this probably won't make sense to you if you don't have any direct experience with it, mentions of intrusive thoughts, compulsions (ocd), suicidal ideation, reader asks to be killed, mentions of shooting one's self, mentions of guns
author's note: mostly writing this as a vent, but if anyone is struggling all the same, i hope this can be of atleast some comfort to you.
synopsis: you feel like it's the end of it all, for like the hundredth time this week.
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It feels like the world's in your hands. You feel like you have control over everything in the worst way possible.
You repeat, sigh, inhale, exhale, repeat, sigh, inhale, exhale, repeat, sigh, inhale, exhale, repeat--
"What are you doing up?"
You jumped. Shit.
"None of your business." you said, colder than you meant to. "Sorry... Just, something personal. Don't mind me."
"...Alright. Tell me if you need anything."
You had to take a breath to keep the words "a gun" from slipping past your lips.
This was stupid. Worrying about intrusive thoughts that you knew damn well were irrational, when you had your own safety and life to worry about in a survival game you were stuck in. This was stupid. So stupid you felt like shooting yourself.
You grabbed the blanket and folded it forward, before pulling it back towars you. You inhaled, exhaled, and proceeded to repeat the gesture. You hadn't counted, but you were almost certain it had been over fifty times. Fifty times of you folding and pulling a blanket, all because your mind told you if you didn't, things would be horribly, terribly, overwhelmingly wrong.
So you sighed, and you continued. Your arms were aching from doing it over and over again.
"You know, you can tell me what's wrong, right?"
You flinched again.
"Gi-hun." you sighed shakily, "This is the second time you scare the fuck out of me."
"A-Ah, sorry." he mumbles apologetically, sitting up in his own bed. You were looking down, hands balled into fists around the blanket. Was it okay now? It felt like it was.
A thud was heard around the room. The sound was something completely out of your control, something completely unrelated to the unwanted thoughts that plagued your mind at the moment-- But alas, the disorder decided it meant you had to do it again.
In an abrupt movement, you yanked the blanket off of you entirely and threw it at the end of the bed. No.
No. No. No. No. No. No. This isn't right. Keep doing it. Keep doing it. Keep doing it. You have to. You need to . Everything-- Everyone-- Your life, it all depends on it. Do it. Keep doing it.
"Shut the fuck up already." you whispered to yourself, covering your ears and bringing your knees closer to your chest. In moments like those, the act of covering your ears and the deafening silence that came with it was one of the only things that made you calm down.
You could hear Gihun's worried voice calling out your name faintly-- He sounded like he was coming closer to you. You had your eyes shut tight, you couldn't be certain. You felt a weight dip at the side of your bed.
Kill me. Just kill me, already.
You felt hands shake your shoulders as well as tears staining your cheeks. Your hands slowly, but surely came down from your ears and now you could hear it more clearly.
"Hey, [name], it's okay! Hey, look at me, everything's fine! Why were you talking about someone killing you?! I'm here, don't worry! I'm not gonna hurt you!" he rambled, still holding your shoulders.
Ah, so you'd said it out loud. Yikes.
"This isn't what I'm worried about, Gihun..." you said, breathing ou shakily, "I want someone to kill me."
He stopped and stared at you. You were looking down, but you could feel it.
"What?" he exhaled, "Why-- What's wrong? Hey, you can't be saying these type of things!"
You cried. Pathetically so, you cried-- sobbed as your body instinctively fell towards the man next to you. He caught you and wrapped his arms around you.
"Shhh, hey." he breathed out, almost as if trying to calm himself down as well, "Everything's okay. I don't know what's going on, but... I can assure you that apart from the killing in this game, well, everything's fine."
You tried to nod but it looked like a mix of that and you shaking your head.
"I don't know, Gihun..."
"Well I do know. It's okay. I'm here, alright. Just... Try to relax. Then we can talk about it. Or you can go to sleep. Alright?"
"...Fine." you whispered, tears still runing down your face. You felt the man nod above your head.
"Good. Now just... Try to calm down. It's okay."
Gihun was kind. Gihun was caring, understanding and he was honest. He was exactly the person you needed in this moment.
This was enough for now.
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asweetmelodytrickling · 18 hours ago
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These reactions 😂 Thanks for the patience gang. I’ve been bed ridden with a chest infection which has been fun (not). But it has meant that I’ve had a chance to chip away at this long chapter for you all 🤗
So here we go. The chapter we’ve all been waiting for… (well..one of the chapters we’ve all been waiting for)
Bechloe - 24 Hours (Chapter 36)
For the most fleeting of moments Beca thinks to herself that she really must be starting to get used to the feel of Chloe kissing her by now. Surely. And yet, as they stand together in a carpeted corridor of the extravagant wedding venue, Beca pressing Chloe gently against the wall while they casually kiss, the brunette still feels butterflies racing around her stomach. Her heart leaps for joy at the way Chloe’s arms remain wrapped firmly around her small waist. And her own fingers find a purpose as they rest comfortably within the thickets of Chloe’s red wavy locks.
“It’s almost time for the cake smash, you two.” comes a teasing voice, and Beca breaks her deep kiss with Chloe to turn slightly and see her Aunt Debbie stride past them with a grin before disappearing through the open double doors directly to Chloe’s right.
The sound of Chloe’s sweet chuckle causes a chuckle to fall from Beca’s own mouth, and they gently rest their foreheads against one another. It’s been a pretty blissful hour away from this circus. They’d managed to find a beautiful lake and had walked around it, admiring the wildlife. They’d managed to find a beautiful little flower garden to, a daisy of which Chloe had picked which now rests delicately behind Beca’s left ear where the redhead had placed it not so long ago. And they’d slowly, reluctantly, headed back to the huge building.
“I really do have to quickly pee!” Chloe mumbles, reminding Beca exactly why they were exactly here in the first place. Those glasses of champagne had apparently shot through her girlfriend quicker than expected. Beca takes a step back, a grin still on her face.
“I won’t be long!” Chloe adds, swooping forward to place a quick peck on Beca’s lips before scuttling through the door on the other side of the corridor marked ‘Ladies’.
Beca stands and stares at the door as it swings closed, her grin still present. They’ve still got to endure a couple of hours at this event. But if they can keep finding excuses to scamper away and find secret places to make out then perhaps it’s not the most horrendous situation to be in.
She lets out a gentle sigh of content and rocks slightly on the spot, glancing casually towards the open double doors they will soon be stepping through. And that’s when her stomach lurches and her heart leaps into her throat. She finds a familiar pair of dark brown eyes staring at her. Glaring at her. Jesse. What the…?
.
.
Beca can feel herself sweating, her hands becoming clammy as her heart beats faster and faster in her throat. He looks angry. Frustrated. Like he’s been drinking. And it’s that latter realisation that fills her with dread.
“Wha-What are you doing here??” she manages to choke out, just as he takes a few slow steps towards her. She finds herself taking a couple of steps backwards, further down the corridor. But it’s a risky direction to take. Because it takes her further from her family. Further from Chloe.
“I got an invite, don’t you remember?”
“I got an invite, don’t you remember?”
She doesn’t remember. Because there was no individual invite for him. There was no ‘To Jesse’. Just a ‘To Beca +1’.
“No, I got an invite, with a ‘plus 1’.” she somehow finds some form of resolve in her chosen words, her hands balling into fists by her sides. It’s about now that she looks just like her mother. Not that she’d ever know that. “Don’t you remember?”
She knows it’s a risky retort. But he can’t do anything to her here. She has her entire family a mere few metres away. Her girlfriend is about to come back out into this corridor. And Jesse is no longer her keeper. She’s not afraid of him anymore.
And yet it also appears to be the wrong thing to say to him. Because before Beca can clench her jaw for more than a second, Jesse snaps a hand out and grips her firmly by the elbow. He holds her tight, and Beca feels a pain shooting up her arm as she winced.
“I was meant to be the ‘plus 1’ and you know it.” Jesse says in a low sinister tone, tugging Beca’s body against his. She can see that he’s made an effort to put a suit on. That he’s styled his hair in a way that he always does when attending an event. And for a fleeting moment she wonders if he’s been here all day, spying on her.
“Let go of me.” Beca says in an equally low and strong tone, glaring at him. She’s not scared of him anymore. At least, that’s what she’s telling herself over and over. It’s the best way to ignore the pain.
“Why?” Jesse asks, his eyebrows rising and a small smile appears on his face. His cocky smile. It makes Beca feel sick to see it.
“Because this isn’t the way I deserve to be treated, Jesse.” Beca raises her voice, and she can hear her words being echoed back to her off the corridor walls, despite the sound of cheers coming from within the room she’s supposed to now be in. Where’s Chloe??
“Oh and you think I’ve been treated well??” Jesse replies with a raised voice of his own, no longer smiling. He shakes her a little with the little tight grip that he has on her elbow. Shakes her with every other word. To Beca’s horror she realises he’s starting to lead her away from her family with every shake, and slowly towards a door leading to the outside, “You were the one who cheated on me! You humiliated me! You-”
Beca let’s out a yelp as Jesse’s other hand rises, and it’s like it’s last year again. She sees the angle at which Jesse’s hand is ready to strike her face. And she finds her knees becoming weak with fear.
But to her confusion and relief, she sees a pair of large hands wrap around Jesse’s raised arm and pull him off her. She watches as her ex-boyfriend is launched across the corridor, his back colliding with the wall. To her relief, she sees her brother standing protectively between herself and Jesse, his own fists balled down by his sides and his back turned on her.
Sonny’s never been much of a fighter. But he’s had the knowledge to be one if required. And Beca makes a mental note to thank their mother for teaching them basic self defence and mild wrestling back when they‘d been kids.
“You’ve got a fucking nerve!” comes the screeched outburst. But to Beca’s surprise, it doesn’t come from Sonny. It comes from-
Beca sees her sister in law - the bride - come hurtling into view. And before Beca knows what’s going on, the woman has punched Jesse in the throat.
She watches as Collette doesn’t stop there. Jesse keels over, and the woman’s knee comes flying up, a horrific crack echoing around the corridor. Followed by a yelp of pain by Jesse, and a new pair of footsteps.
“You’ve ruined my wedding day!” Collette continues, launching a scrappy attack on the guy Beca once considered her boyfriend. She remains pressed against the corridor wall opposite, stood in stunned silence while her brother strides forward to scoop up his wife. Beca can’t tell if Collette’s done all this to protect her or as a form of venting her frustration at the things that have gone wrong today, but either way Beca’s grateful.
And while a broken nose could be the worst thing to happen to Jesse today, it very quickly isn’t. Because the pair of footsteps joining them belong to her mother. And she looks furious. Like a protective lioness ready to unleash hell on the thing that dared to lay a finger on one of her cubs.
With no words, Jackie literally leaps into the air, and lands her entire body onto Jesse’s heap on the floor. The man attempts to scrunch into the foetal position to protect himself but he stands no chance. And while Beca’s relieved to see her family so protective over her. She’s also feeling a little sorry for Jesse. It can’t be easy to be on the other end of her mother’s punches, which are being thrown at his stomach and head at a fast rate. Somehow he’s managing to block most of the ones to his face, particularly his already broken nose.
“I’ll…teach…you…to…hit…my…daughter!” Jackie says each word with every thump, her breath becoming laboured. To her fury, she’s scooped off Jesse by Sonny, whose wife now creates the protective wall between Beca and the intruder.
“Get off me Sonny!!!” comes the mother’s screech, but Sonny holds on firmly to her, knowing that often a tight embrace will give her no choice but to calm down. It’s probably a good thing if their mother does calm down, Beca thinks, as she hears Jesse begin to whimper on the floor.
“Jesse?”
The next voice to sound is one that fills Beca with disappointment. A voice spoken with concern and mild confusion. And she turns to her right to see her father slowly heading towards Jesse, looking as confused as he sounds. Some way behind them are what appears to be fifty or so guests. Clearly everyone’s heard the commotion and wondered where the bride and groom have gone in such a hurry.
“M-Mike…” Jesse manages to croak, before coughing loudly, scrambling with a wince onto his hands and knees. Blood is dripping from his broken nose and it looks as though his right eye is beginning to bruise and swell already.
“Jesus.” Beca hears her father mumble, reaching a hand down to help Jesse back to his feet. Jackie still struggles within Sonny’s arms. Collette has taken a step back and has reached behind her to place a soft hand on Beca’s arm (which gives Beca the reassurance that Collette’s outburst had been a mix of protection and frustration).
Beca turns when she hears some movement to her right and a recognisable voice excusing herself. To her relief, Chloe squeezes herself between the guests and finally makes it to the front. Beca’s never seen her girlfriend look so concerned, and it’s no surprise when Chloe strides over to her.
“Beca are you okay?” the redhead asks, immediately cupping Beca’s cheeks, then her hair, then her shoulders, “Are you hurt? Did he hurt you??”
Beca’s hands are already cupping Chloe’s elbows gently, and she shakes her head even though her own elbow aches a little where Jesse had been gripping it tightly. She’s quaking a bit, her fight or flight response coursing through her body.
“Uh actually Jesse’s the one who’s hurt here.” Mike says, and Beca sees her girlfriend’s expression darken. This is definitely not what Chloe wants to hear and especially in that tone. “So perhaps if you didn’t make everything about you Chloe, you might be able to take the time look around you for once instead of at my dau-”
Beca looks over Chloe’s shoulder just as her father almost gets to the end of his sentence. But he doesn’t reach it. Because Sonny has already let go of their mother (on purpose), and it doesn’t take Jackie long to fling herself at her ex-husband.
The sound of her fist meeting Mike’s nose is the next loud noise to echo off the corridor walls. Closely followed by three yelps: one from Mike (due to his broken nose), one from Jackie (due to her injured fist), and one from Jesse (due to Mike being hit off-balance and falling against Jesse, his arm accidentally colliding with Jesse’s broken nose).
“Whoops.” Beca hears her Mom say with little remorse, glaring at the two men she’s just battered, “My fist slipped.”
The two men look back at her in disbelief, both with a hand to their respective bleeding noses. Sheila has already dashed over to her husband with a large napkin in her hand, and holds it over Mike’s nose. Beca waits with baited breath as the entire corridor goes quiet, everyone watching the two misogynist’s getting taken down a peg or two.
Jackie is now the wall - protecting her daughter from the two men before her - acting as a physical barrier. Beside her stands Sonny. Both have their arms by their sides, their hands balled into fists. And Beca can only imagine the expressions on their faces.
With Beca stands Chloe, the redhead now holding her hand, their fingers laced together as always. Beca still trembles slightly, but Chloe’s presence is the support she needs to begin the gradual process of calming down. Meanwhile, Collette takes a step forward, away from Beca, to stand beside her husband. And Beca can tell from her sister-in-law’s stance that she too has every intention of protecting the youngest member of the family.
“Don’t you guys get it??” Jesse bursts, his voice sounding hoarse from the punch to the neck he received earlier, “Beca cheated on me. She’s the one to blame here, so why are you defending her?”
Beca feels her breath catching in her throat, so she swallows loudly. In a way he’s right, she did cheat on him. But that’s not to say that, given the situation she’d been in moments ago with him, she isn’t worthy of being protected. Particularly from him.
“It’s okay.” she hears Chloe whisper into her ear, and just the sound of the woman’s calm voice draw’s Beca’s fast heart rate to a slightly slower pace. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
Beca releases the breath that’s been caught in her throat, looking to her girlfriend with a grateful expression. She believes her. Just like she believes her Mom and brother and sister-in-law won’t let anything happen to her either. And it’s this thought - this knowledge - that gives Beca courage. That gives Beca an ounce of grit and an ounce of strength. Because, if it came to it, she wouldn’t let anything bad happen to them either. Especially Chloe.
“Yeah that’s right, fill her mind with shit Chloe.” Beca hears Jesse call out, “Just like you always have, you jacked up bitch.”
Beca’s taken criticism from Jesse before. In fact, she can’t even count the amount of times he’s criticised her appearance or opinions or emotions. She’s sort of numb to it. It doesn’t phase her any more. But hearing Jesse criticise Chloe - to hear him call her a bitch…well it causes something in Beca’s mind to snap.
It’s as though a red mist has descended over her, and Beca immediately surges forward, launching herself between her brother and mother, and over to Jesse before Jackie has the chance to swear loudly at him. Beca throws the heel of her hand up, connecting with Jesse’s broken bloody nose, causing the man to make a screeching noise she’s never heard in her life from anyone.
“Don’t you ever lay a finger on me again.” Beca warns angrily, then jerks her knee up so it comes firmly into contact with her ex-boyfriend’s crotch, “And don’t you ever, ever talk to Chloe ever!”
She’s not even sorry when she watches him fall to his hands and knees. Instead she rides on her wave of anger and turns to her father who is looking down at Jesse in horror.
“And you…” Beca pauses to take a couple of breaths. She’s not going to hit him or kick him. Of course she isn’t. So she lowers her voice, pointing at him with a threatening finger, “…you have treated me like shit my whole life. But it stops here. I’m living my life, and I’m living it happily with Chloe. And if you’ve got a problem with that then don’t bother talking to me ever again.”
She watches as her father opens his mouth with a frown, ready to respond, but she doesn’t give him a chance to. Instead she motions to her ex-boyfriend, and in a cold voice she adds:
“I think your boyfriend needs your assistance.”
Then she turns on the spot, and heads back to where she feels she belongs. Within the protection of her real family. And by Chloe’s side.
-
“Thanks love.”
Beca’s eyes have been focussed on bandaging her mother’s hand as best as possible. She’s no expert of course, but she was once a trained first aider among The Bellas back in college (it was either her or Chloe, and Chloe just had so much going on..so Beca had nominated herself). The skill of bandaging has come flooding back to her.
She sits on a chair, facing her mother, who sits on a chair before her with her arm held out in her direction. The hand’s swollen, but thanks to the bag of ice the venue provided, it’s not as swollen as it had been shortly after Jackie had punched Michael.
Beca finds her bottom lip being gripped between her teeth, and a tiny smile spreads across her face. Her Mom is her hero. Sonny’s her hero. Hell, even Collette’s her hero. And she knows if Chloe had been given half a chance she would’ve thrown a punch Jesse’s way too. Perhaps even kicked his dick too for good measure.
“I should be thanking you.” Beca replies, keeping her eyes on the hand while she comes to the end of the bandaging process and is just attempting to find a good fold to tuck the end of the fabric securely between.
The guests have all returned to the main room that Jackie and Beca are currently sat on the edge of. They now mill around a dance floor, drinks in hand, chatting and mingling. Sat several yards away is the bride, whose swollen hand is currently being seen to by a member of the venue’s staff - clearly first air trained. A soft hand is resting on Collette shoulder. Chloe’s soft hand. She asked Beca if she’d mind her going over to support Collette while Sonny was out of the room.
Beca doesn’t mind at all, and she finds herself glancing over at her girlfriend for what feels like the millionth time. It’s really nice seeing Chloe and her sister-in-law chatting and smiling together. As though their shared connection is being in a romantic relationship with siblings of the same family. Which, as Beca thinks about it, they are.
“Sorry today’s been so hard on both of you.” she hears her mother say, and Beca knows she’s including Chloe in that apology. Luckily - miraculously - Chloe appears to be fairly unscathed by the events of today. But Beca makes a mental note to talk to her girlfriend about it either later or tomorrow.
“Yeah, well, at least we know there’s no way my wedding will be this dramatic.” Beca says with a chuckle, looking back down at her mother’s hand to place the old bag of ice on it. She hears the woman briefly hiss as the cool meets her bruised fist once again. But it’s only a short hiss. Closely followed by a sentence calling Beca out.
“I thought you weren’t ever going to get married?” Jackie teases. Beca finds herself pursing her lips while trying to hide a smile. She has always always insisted that she will never get married. That she’ll never commit herself to someone in that way because it’ll only end up in misery (like her parents) and divorce (again, like her parents).
Beca looks over at Chloe and her heart swells with pride at just how beautiful her girlfriend is. The woman she loves unconditionally. The woman who loves her unconditionally in return. The woman who has seen her at her very worst on numerous occasions just as Beca has seen Chloe at her very worst in return. Her smile broadens.
“Maybe I just hadn’t found the one yet.” she replies, and she’s struck by how calm she feels while saying it. Her mind flickers to those Kodaline lyrics she’s listened to in private during the week. (‘You make my heart feel like it’s summer, when the rain is falling down. You make my whole world feel so right when it’s wrong, that’s how I know you are the one.’)
“Until now?” she hears Jackie prompt, and as Beca looks back she sees her mother beaming at her, clearly thrilled by the conversation they’re now having.
“Until now, yeah.”
Marrying Chloe one day. Becoming her wife. Having Chloe become her wife. Not having to be a Mitchell any more. Perhaps even starting a family with her one day…
All of these thoughts were non-existent when she’d been with Jesse. She never wanted to marry him or become his wife (as was the expectation). She never wanted to become a Swanson, despite hating having her father’s name. And she definitely never wanted to have children with Jesse.
But suddenly Beca’s future feels different. It feels lighter. Brighter. More open and free. In fact, being with Chloe and envisioning her future with Chloe makes Beca feel more free than she ever has in her life before now.
Her smile spreads into a content one. Despite all that’s happened today - despite all that’s happened in the past half hour, Beca finally feels free and content and loved. So she lets out a happy sigh while her mother reaches her uninjured hand out and rests it gently on her shoulder.
“We really love Chloe.” Jackie says with a kind smile, “You know that right?”
Beca nods, reaching her own hand up to rest over her mother’s hand on her shoulder. She knows the ‘we’ in that sentence means her mother, her brother, and her sister-in-law. Probably her Aunt Debbie too. And perhaps ever her maternal grandparents who knows.
“Whatever you two decide to do and however you decide to do it, we’ll always love and support you.”
“I know Mom.” Beca replies softly, appreciating every second of this shared moment. She’s missed her so much. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
-
“You need to leave.” Sonny says in a grave tone, standing over his father with his arms folded across his chest. Mike is on a seat that’s been brought out to the corridor for him to sit on. The bleeding from his nose has subsided. And Sonny can’t help but notice how old his Dad looks right now.
“But-” Mike begins to protest, but the groom isn’t having any of it. Today has been ruined enough.
-“No ‘buts’, Dad.” Sonny interrupts, his frustration rising slowly, “You, Sheila, Jesse…”
His eyes snap to the figure of his little sister’s ex-boyfriend. God the guy looks like a sorry state. And it’s a good thing he does too. Jesse also sits on a seat, next to Mike, a bag of ice on his crotch while Sheila dabs at the dried blood around his nose with a wet cloth. They all deserve each other.
“…You all need to leave right now.”
He manages to give his Dad a glare so fierce that whatever words are about to leave Mike’s mouth never arise. He’s not joking around. It’s not a soft request. This man has made his sister and Mom’s life a misery for as long as Beca has been alive. And if there’s one thing Sonny regrets, it’s that he chose to move to Atlanta with his father when his parent’s separated then divorced.
Okay so he doesn’t regret that decision completely. His father’s promise of getting him into Barden Academy’s football team had come to fruition - which was how he ended up meeting Collette, one of the cheerleaders at the time. The free college education at Barden University in the years following had opened doors for his future and he’s now thriving in a well paid job that he loves…
…but he can definitely see how he became estranged from his little sister until she joined Barden University five years after their parent’s separation. Estranged from his Mom too. That was tough to deal with (not that his sixteen year old self appreciated it at the time). He’s been making efforts over the past six years to be more present in his sister and mother’s lives.
Seeing the way Jesse was with Beca a little while ago, Sonny feels a huge weight of guilt on his shoulders. Guilt about the way he hadn’t protected his little sister more before. That he hadn’t said something to her sooner. That he hadn’t said anything to Jesse sooner. He should’ve done more. He’s going to do more.
“And if you’re not going to start supporting Beca-” he pauses as his father sighs heavily.
-“I can’t afford to support her.” comes Michael’s groaning complaint.
“I mean emotionally, Dad. Socially.” Sonny’s frustration comes through in his delivery. Has his Dad always thought this?? Has he always thought that his only responsibility as a father is to support his kids financially? (Not that he even does that, according to Beca).
“Support doesn’t have to mean financial.”
And it’s not until he says the final sentence that suddenly Sonny finds some clarity. More clarity. At the end of a day which has been full of clarity. Mike doesn’t know how to be the father that he and Beca deserve. The father that they’ve always deserved and never really had. It’s this realisation that feels like a punch in the gut, and Sonny finds himself having to take a deep breath.
“If you’re not willing to be kind to her,” he eventually says, “then I’m going to stop sending you money when you ask for it, Dad.”
It’s a huge threat. Massive. His Dad has been asking him for money for years. And Sonny’s always done it, having always believed his father whenever the man’s said that it’s Sonny’s duty to take care of him after all that he’s done for Sonny growing up. But not any more. Not if his father isn’t willing to change somehow.
“She’s not exactly easy to be nice to, Sonny.” is Mike’s feeble response, “Never has been.”
It takes the groom by surprise. Surprise that his father could say something so cruel. No wonder Beca’s always rebelled against their Dad. No wonder she’s never seemed happy around him. It’s because he’s never been nice to her. And it’s this realisation that helps contribute to Sonny’s decision.
“Wrong answer, Dad.” he says in a serious tone. That’s it. He gave him a chance. His Dad’s not willing to make an effort, so neither is he.
“Come on, Sonny.” Jesse dares to say with an exhausted wince, “You have to admit he’s right. Beca’s hard work-”
-“Do you want a black eye to match your other??” Sonny threatens, his voice rising with those words as he takes a heavy step in Jesse’s direction. He’s pleased to see Jesse cower. Good. He should cower. Jesse deserves to feel an ounce of the fear Beca once felt around him.
“The three of you are to get out of here as soon as possible.” He repeats, still entirely serious, glaring while he looks from Sheila, to Jesse, then to his father. Mike’s mouth has dropped open in surprise, and Sonny isn’t sure why. What Jesse said is the unacceptable thing, not what he said.
“Are we still meeting for breakfast tomorrow?” he hears Sheila ask, and Sonny bites the inside of his right cheek. They’d arranged - well, Collette and Sheila had arranged - for both sets of parents and step mothers to meet with the newlyweds for breakfast tomorrow morning. But if Sonny’s honest with himself, he just can’t imagine a moment any time soon when he’ll feel comfortable being pleasant to his father. Which means-
“No Sheila. I don’t want to see any of you at breakfast tomorrow.”
It’s straight to the point. No frills. No hesitation. Sonny goes with his gut instinct. And just as he sees his father open his mouth to protest, the groom adds:
“I’ll let you know when I’m ready to talk. But it’s not now. And it won’t be any time soon.” Sonny takes a deep breath, clenching his jaw slightly, his hands balled into his fists by his sides just like his mother does. He’s happy that this is the last time he’ll have to see his father and stepmother for a while. And he’s even happier that, hopefully, this’ll be the last time he ever sees Jesse again.
-
First dances at weddings are the worst. They’re hideous. They’re embarrassing. And - upon a quick google search - the true reason behind the tradition of them is horrifying.
Tonight, however, Beca’s decided to throw all feelings she has towards ‘first dances’ out of the window. She’s had a couple more glasses of champagne. She’s been assured by Sonny that not only has Jesse left, but that her father and Sheila have left too. She decided not to ask for the details, nor has her brother disclosed how they left, but Beca just knows she’s grateful. To him. To the rest of her family - the ones who love and care for her.
So now Beca stands in a blissful state. Her eyes are closed. A calm smile is on her face. And she sways gently from side to side, her left hand cupping the back of Chloe’s neck while her chin hooks comfortably over Chloe’s left shoulder. She relishes in the way that her girlfriend’s arm is wrapped protectively around her waist, Chloe’s own chin hooked on Beca’s right shoulder. And their free hands are held to the side, fingers laced as always, while they dance in slow small circles.
All around them, the guests have coupled up and are swaying on the dance floor to a ballad that even Beca isn’t sure she’s heard of before (which is hard for her to believe but it’s true). And she tries to absorb every scrap of this moment - the first time she has ever felt truly content and safe and at ease. Like the smell of Chloe’s hair while it tickles her nose, the feel of Chloe’s warm breath as it washes over her neck, the sound of Chloe humming the tune of the ballad into her ear (clearly it’s a song she’s heard before), the pressure of Chloe’s arm around her waist… Beca wants to remember it all.
“Will you marry me one day?” Beca mumbles into Chloe’s ear, and a small smile crosses onto her face when her girlfriend lets out a light chuckle.
“Uhuh.” Chloe mumbles in return, sounding as at peace as Beca feels while they still sway in a small circle, “One day.”
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mppmaraudergirl · 15 hours ago
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Day 2 - The Big Kiss
(Continuation of this Teacher AU I wrote for Day 1. Probably not the ideal ‘big kiss’ scenario but this is what we get!) thank you @theresthesnitch for running this awesome writing challenge.
Eight weeks.
Eight weeks.
That’s how long they end up having to share a classroom, him corralling students on one side, her bustling around to stop her students from blowing up their lab equipment on the other.
Eight weeks where has had to behave, to share the common space that is only intended for one class.
They get the hang of sharing quickly, communicating well about the space requirements for each lab and rearranging the room accordingly to support. For the last couple of weeks, James has even started arriving early to help her do more of her set-up which she seems to appreciate.
He knows fairly early on that they can handle working together, and two seconds after that it hits him how much he wants to kiss her. But he doesn’t. While they are running classes, and even the preparation time before, are not the best times to be considering such things. Besides, if he does kiss her and things go decidedly wrong, sharing a lab period once a week sounds like one of the circles of hell that Dante fellow drones on about.
But then they get the notification that renovation of the second lab has finished and their time together is drawing to a close.
She texts him—he was able to casually procure her number after the second lab to help with logistics—about it mere minutes after the email arrives.
Lily Evans: Last hurrah today.
James Potter: better go out with a bang
Lily Evans: In my experience, a bang tends to indicate something has gone terribly wrong in your chem experiment.
James Potter: don’t tempt me with a good time Evans
There is color in her cheeks when he arrives at the lab. He hopes it surfaces from his appearance, a direct reaction like the bright smile that curves Lily’s lips as she spots him slipping into the room. She is wearing a bright yellow shirt under her lab coat—has he mentioned his absolute obsession with lab coats?
“Morning, Evans.”
“Hey.”
He revels in the way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Fewer than two hours until he can kiss her.
If he could last that long.
“Need a hand with set-up today?”
“That would be great.”
He follows directions well, and in no time they have nearly finished setting up all of the ingredients and equipment needed.
“Shit. One burner short,” Lily says to herself; James observes her start looking through a couple of cabinets that line the walls of the lab. Before he can offer to help, she looks up and spots one on a shelf at the back of the room.
He watches her hurry over to the shelf, reaching up. She realizes right away that she is too short to reach and pulls a nearby chair over.
“I can help—”
But Lily ignores him, stepping onto the chair which wobbles at the action. James moves without thinking, arriving at her side as she grabs the burner. He reaches up on instinct a hand wrapping around her elbow.
“Oh, thanks.”
She lands solidly on the floor, directly in front of him—their height difference is the only reason they are not nose-to-nose.
“No problem,” he says, throat bobbing.
It is the closest he’s ever been to her. He can plot the constellation of freckles, name them all if he wishes; he can see the indents from her teeth on her lower lip, wants to know he is the one who she thought of when they came to be.
“We… should…”
But he has no control of himself it seems—and as often as he has enjoyed listening to the way words sound coming from her mouth, he has no interest in hearing what exactly they should do.
Instead, he kisses her.
One careful hand still on her elbow, the other gentle on her hip as he leans down. She pushes herself forward, crushing her hands, still holding the burner, between them. He doesn’t think as he pulls the thing from her but is immediately rewarded when she throws her arms around his neck, closing all remaining space between them.
“Fuck, fuck,” she breathes when he moves along her jaw. “James.”
“Eight weeks,” he groans to her skin as she scratches his scalp. “Eight weeks I’ve been dying to kiss you.”
His lips are back on hers, and then he is leading her backward to the teacher’s desk. He discards the burner without care before edging her around so that her back is against the table.
“We—we shouldn’t—” But Lily cuts of her protests when James lifts her onto the table and positions himself between her legs.
“We should,” he says, pausing only long enough to say so before he threads his hands through her hair, pulling it loose from her hair tie. “The number of dreams I’ve had about lab coats…”
She is breathless as she angles her head to grant him easier access to her neck. “The lab coat does it for you?”
“I’m not ashamed of it.”
Their hands get more daring after she drags his lips back up to hers. When he toys with the button of her slacks she seems to come to her senses.
“We can’t. Students will… will be here any sec…”
He straightens, but there are no thoughts of stopping in his mind. “Let’s cancel. We’ll say we’re sick.”
“Both of us?” she asks with a small laugh.
He grins. “Why not?”
Lily shakes her head. “There’s no time. We have to stop, James. For now.”
“For now,” he repeats, threading a piece of her hair around his finger.
She clears her throat, reaching out to steady herself on his shoulders as she slides down off the desk.
He catches her around the hips but she walks away, hands retying her hair before she straightens her clothing.
“What happens then?” James smiles brightly at the flush in her cheeks, the nervous—or excited—nibble to her lips which proves that she will have more indents due to him.
“Then you can show me exactly how much you like lab coats.”
He is only too happy to. On the teacher’s desk. As soon as the last student leaves.
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zhonatxxic · 8 hours ago
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hayy, i saw u need requests, so what about sub!thoma -needy, petplay, choking- headcanons with gn!reader? ^.^
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𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜,, gn!reader x sub!thoma.
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨,, needy thoma, pet play, pet names and vulgar language (puppy, slut), use of straps, slight degradation, choking, masturbation, crying. minors dni.
𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚,, wanted to do headcanons, but i think this seems more like a drabble (?, anyway i hope you enjoy our little needy thoma here<3
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A Thoma so needy that just a few simple words will suffice to make his cock twitch against the fabric of his pants.
“Will you be a good boy for me?” you question, looking at him from your advantageous position with the strap in your hands. He tilts his head up, placing his teary eyes on yours, asking you with his gaze if you could please already tear off his clothes.
You don't allow him to speak. Thoma is your little puppy, he has to behave like one and obey all your orders. He will do whatever it takes for you to give him the attention that requires right now.
Placing your hand over the bulge on his pants, you notice how there's a wet spot in the fabric, the precum leaks from the reddened tip of his dick. His jaw clenches at your touch, closing his eyes tightly and releasing a sweet moan that sounds like music to your ears.
Sooner or later, as needy as he is, this boy ends up unintentionally disobeying you.
“P-please... I can't take it anymore... ahh...” he whimpers, moving his hips against your hand, trying to feel the slightest friction on his crotch.
“So needy... just like the slut you are.” you spit disappointed by how he has behaved, causing him to lower his head, knowing that he has done wrong. Oh, he really does look like a punished puppy with that look of regret.
You proceed to remove the strap, only to surprise him when you replace it with your own hand. A mewl comes from his lips as you choke him, his tongue lolling out of the corner of his mouth. “You enjoy this too, huh, puppy?”
At this point, any punishment from you will only make him even more horny, it's proven. Thoma's so lost for you that he cannot tell right from wrong when he's in your hands.
Your other hand ends up on his crotch again. You can swear it's even harder than before. “Fuck yourself on my hand.” you command.
You don't have to say it twice for him to start moving his hips frantically against your hand, letting out sighs of relief and pleasure. Your hand on his neck loses some grip, letting him breathe more freely than before, but still being firm in its position.
Look at him, poor thing. This cute boy can't reach his high on his own — really needs something from you too. He doesn't speak, but the sounds he makes give him away, those little cries... just take care of him already. He wants you more than he should. You really get to show the most vulnerable side of him.
Rubbing your hand against his length over his pants, causing the tip of his cock to touch his own abdomen when you raise the lower part of the palm of your hand to the top, and ending up pressing his balls carefully and slowly with your fingers. A few more seconds like this, and he ends up cumming all over his own clothes, moaning out loud with no shame as his eyes roll with pleasure. But you won't let him recover from it.
“Don't think we have finished yet. You need a proper punishment.”
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huihuiheart · a day ago
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Kinktober D22: Good Luck Charm - Johnny
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Kinktober 2021 Masterlist
NCT Masterlist
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Pairing: Johnny x Female Reader
Genre: Smut
Summary: Johnny is nervous about the awards show, but it’s nothing his good luck charm can’t fix.
Warnings: Sex in a public setting, exhibition kink, dom/sub themes if you squint. 
Word Count: 325
Johnny put his hand over your mouth, slowing his pace to quiet down, but never letting up as you both heard voices right outside the door he currently had you pushed up against. The stylists were gonna have a fit when they saw the way his shirt was all wrinkled, but it was too late to do anything about that now. Johnny gave a particularly hard thrust, before stilling when you cried out against his hand.
“Hush baby, you need to be quiet before someone hears you. They’re right there you know they would...unless you’d like that.” Johnny whispers darkly into your ear, chuckling as your eyes blow out a little more. 
He waits for the voices to hush a little more before moving again, knowing you both had to be quick but also not actually intending to get caught. Even if it would be obvious what you both had been up to when you had snuck away. 
“Think you can keep yourself quiet babe?” Johnny waits for a nod before his hand slips away from your mouth, moving lower to rub at your clit wanting you both to finish before you had a chance to be found out. 
He’s quick to lean in when he sees your bottom lip slipping from between your teeth, kissing you to muffle the sounds from both of you as you reach your highs. Reluctantly pulling away despite not being able to bask in the pleasure as long as you both would have liked due to your current setting. Instead, helping you clean up before doing the same himself.
“Feeling better about tonight?” You question still catching your breath slightly, making Johnny chuckled as he leans in for one last kiss, and a cheeky wink.
“Much better. What could possibly go wrong with my good luck charm by my side...I’ll be sure to thank you later on tonight baby. Somewhere where you can be as loud as you want.”
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bananasquash · 2 days ago
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Alright, this is just a trial/sample fic, so apologies if it isn't the best.
Xiao!Father!Zhongli x GN!Reader
Modern AU! Fluff
Warnings⚠️: They/Them Pronouns, child!Xiao, slightly rushed.
Zhongli was the local 'Dilf' around Liyue. Men, women, and many others fawning over him left and right. And with you being the one to take care of Zhongli's kid, getting stuck in between affairs wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it also wasn't uncommon for you to be hit on either.
Xiao had propped himself up on your stomach, wide toddler eyes staring into your soul, almost as if he could read your every thought.
After a the few moments of a silent staring contest, he blinked up at you and disrupted the quietness. "I'm... Hungry." He huffed, glaring lightly. Of course with his big doe eyes, it looked nothing close to threatening. In fact, you inwardly fanned at the sight.
"Alright..." You finally said. "Would you like me to make you something? Or head to a small restaurant?" You asked the little one.
"Uh..." He seemed to have been stumped by the question, making you laugh lightly. The child didn't seem to take moment, as he was busy staring off into space trying to come up with a decision. "Caf...e?" He asked, drawing out the 'f' sound.
You nodded, picking him up off your lap. "Alright, go put your shoes on and I'll get ready." You spoke as if he could understand. Although, he somehow did since he ran off to put on his favorite Cars shoes.
Zhongli shouldn't be back until around 20:30. It was currently 18:04, so you both had enough time to eat and get back.
You had Xiao in your arms, locking the door. Xiao was sucking his thumb, a bad habit you had worked on breaking, but no progress was made.
You stepped inside the car, obviously after buckling in Xiao. You were about to go, but your plans had been interrupted by a shrill scream. "WHAT'S WRONG?!" You asked, alerted, and turned around.
Xiao was teary eyed, only making you panic further. "Bubby..." He sniffled. You placed a hand over your chest, breathing a bit.
"I'll go get it." You sighed. After getting Xiao's stuffed animal (him immediately holding onto the ear and sucking his thumb), you finally left.
Once there, you unbuckled him, helping him jump out and holding his hand as you both strutted toward his favorite Cafe. You ordered his almond tofu, and your [Favorite Food/Drink] before you both sat down by a window near the back. Refusing to sit away from you, you both occupied one side of the booth.
Little did you know, Zhongli was on his way home, but stopped after seeing your vehicle parked in front of the usual Cafe. He was gonna approach you two, but after seeing a newer but obviously interested waiter and decided to sit near you in order to hear how it'd play out.
The unknown male had taken up the booth in front of you and Xiao, a normal smile glued onto his face. "Hey~ So um, my co-worker said you were a regular and I um... Wanted to introduce myself."
You thought it was weird, but smiled politely nonetheless. Xiao, on the other hand, was a lot less trusting and glared at the male, making him noticeably uncomfortable.
He chatted for sometime, irritating Zhongli, but he stayed seating. Finally Xiao had enough and stood up on the booth. "Stay away from my [Y/n]." He said, hugging you possessively. "They are only for me and papa!"
Zhongli choked on his tea, the male looked madly uncomfortable, and you, well, you were flushed red and speechless. The man apologized for intruding and quickly got back to his job. Xiao puffed his cheeks and plopped back down, continuing to demolish his almond tofu.
You took a second to calm, but once you were, the flush came back once Zhongli made his appearance. "Papa!!!" Xiao yelled, jumping up once more and climbed over you to get to him. Zhongli picked him up, hugging him close. You caught glimpse of the male from a few mins ago. He went to the back room, assumably from embarrassment.
"Mr. Zhongli!" You arose from your seat, bowing slightly. "My apologies for not making you aware of our whereabouts! And the whole thing between Xiao and the employee." You apologized.
He let out a laugh, surprisingly, and kissed Xiao's forehead. "Don't apologize. After all, Xiao wasn't lying~" he winked, causing you to flush even more. Xiao escaped Zhongli's grasp and finished up is tofu. He yawned, indicating it was time to go home. You picked Xiao up and said boy immediately fell asleep on your shoulder.
He didn't allow it to Xiao, but on the inside, Zhongli absolutely melted at the sight. "I'll take him home and get him ready for bedtime." You told him.
He nodded, smiling lightly. "Of course, please go rest up as well. I'll be there soon." Before you could protest, he was gone. You sighed, grabbing Xiao's bubby and strapping him in once out of the Cafe.
Once Xiao was ready for bed, teeth brushed and all, you read a book to him which eventually but both of you to sleep. Zhongli had watched the two from afar, Xiao cuddling up to her. He smiled to himself, making a mental decision for tomorrow.
Alright! Now time to figure out a Master List since I made my first fic (on Tumblr).
Masterlist
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calwritings · 2 days ago
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odd eye
pairing: ran haitani/reader
rating: mature
summary: Red lights, flashing and spinning. Music blares in the background, bounces against the walls, loud enough that you feel your skull pound with each beat. Bellows of laughter follow you in every room, haunting you like a ghost. 
Glasses clinking together, melodic against your ears. Sharp eyes that cut through you, veiled behind a red-tinted glass, following your every move, watching you like a bird of prey. 
But you’re not here for them. You’re here for him.
notes: celebratory fic because why not. features bonten! ran, public make-outs. this is in no way smut but is close to it as it can get, so tread carefully. as always, minors kindly don’t interact w this piece. thanks!
From the corners of your eyes, red lights begin to flash, spin, twisting and turning before exploding into an array of colors: blue, green, yellow. Music blares in the background, bounces against the walls, loud enough that you feel your skull pound with every beat. Everywhere you turn your head, there are people: crowds of regular party-goers in the center of the room, moving their bodies in tune with the rhythm. 
Groups of businessmen occupying the corner booths, taking swigs of their drinks, whispering quietly under their breaths. A circle of college girls in short dresses, mini skirts cheering and hollering as they clink their glasses together, shouting about something you can’t quite understand. 
A celebration of some sort, you guess—for passing the exams, for getting through the week. College students never need much of a reason to drink; that’s something you know from experience, at least.
The rest of their words are lost in the music, and you shake your head, tear your eyes from the sight. You take a deep breath, focus, walk down the narrow hallways as confidently as you can manage. You’ve been in this place for more than a few times now, but you can’t deny that you’re still confused, always uncertain where you should go next. The rooms look similar to one another, and it’s only through sheer luck that you haven’t managed to enter the wrong room just yet.
You cringe at the thought, try not to shiver. You don’t think you want to know what you’ll find the moment you stumble on the wrong one. A rotten corpse, a freshly-killed person. A couple in the middle of some weird, kinky sex. 
You walk forward, keep your focus straight ahead. The music pulses, but it’s fainter now than before. Now, all you hear is the bellowing laughter of the groups of businessmen you’ve passed by, and even now, the sound follows you everywhere, haunts you like a ghost.
The lights grow dimmer now, and the place grows suddenly quiet, every sound snuffed out like a candle in the dark. Not even a faint trace of music is left, and even the bellowing laughter disappears, as though it’s never there at all.
You pass by a few workers: waiters in uniforms, back from their short cigarette breaks, and they keep their heads lowered, deliberately trying not to look at you. You frown, and there’s a part of you that briefly wonders why—if there’s something on your face, your dress, but you shake your head, let the question drift out of your head, unanswered.
You’re getting closer to your destination now, and there’s no reason for you to be distracted. After all, you’re not here for them. You’re here for him.
You reach the room at the end of the hallway, stop in front of the wooden door. You shift your weight from one foot to another, uncertain what you should do next. He’d sent you a text telling you to come in as soon as you arrive, but how much of it is true? And how can you tell you’ve even stopped in the right room? 
For all you know, you’ve got the directions wrong, and you close your eyes, try not to think about all the things you could find on the other side. The potential murders, the underhanded dealings. Businesses you’re not supposed to know about. Not that you mind the last two, but you know they wouldn’t take well to being found out. It’s something you know firsthand. 
Whatever. You open your eyes, square your shoulders. You take a deep breath, push every thought away from your mind. And before you could think too much about it, you push the door open, quick and impulsive.
You close your eyes for a second, uncertain what you’ll find. Your breath stops, catches in your throat, and for the longest time, the only sound you could hear is the beat of your heart, wild and fast against your ears. A second passes, and then another. You remain where you are, standing, wait for something, anything: the sound of a gunshot, a high-pitched shriek. 
All that greets you is a series of muted voices, engaged in hushed conversations, and slowly, you open your eyes, chance a little peek. Even through the dim lights, you find him quickly enough. 
He’s not alone. Beside him are several other men, locked in their personal little bubbles. They don’t look up as you come in, and they pretend not to see you as you step inside, shut the door behind you.
You feel like a ghost as you make your way toward him, slide into the couch next to him, but he looks up at you, smiles, beckons you closer to him. Quietly, you comply, settle on his lap, locking your legs on either side of his.
His smile widens just a fraction, and he leans back a little, tilts his head as he appraises you, runs his gaze all over your body, pleased. He reaches out, twirls a lock of your hair around his finger. 
“Hi, angel,” he greets, and his voice is soft, quiet, the words meant only for you. You smile back, sheepish, and he tucks the stray curl behind your ear, his arms settling around your waist. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”
You shrug, smile again in response, and he grins, rests an arm around your lower back, possessive, as if staking a claim. He pulls you close, and his palms are warm through the fabric of your clothes. He leans in, presses a kiss against the corners of your lips, and you close your eyes, breathe out a quiet sigh. He laughs, and the sound is low and dark against your ears. You can’t fight the shiver that runs down your spine, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
He leans in, takes your ear between his teeth, nibbles it all too gently. You whisper his name under your breath, and it comes out shaky, nervous—a quiet stammer. “R-Ran…”
He whispers the words against your ear, and it’s hard to fight back another shiver. “Yes, angel?”
You bite your lip, take a nervous glance around you. Briefly, you note your surroundings, observe the other people in the room with you. His companions are pointedly not looking at him, and they do a great job pretending he’s not even in the same room, as though he doesn’t exist. They play a round of cards, clink their glasses together. They make quiet conversations, but their words are lost in the silence, the faint buzz.
And as if Ran could read your thoughts, he calls for you, whispers your name gently under his breath. When you remain unresponsive, he places a finger under your chin, turns you around so you’re looking at him. He leans in again, close enough to whisper the words against your lips. “See, angel? They don’t care about us.”
You hesitate, open your mouth to protest. 
“Yeah, but…” you begin, gesture vaguely around you, as if that would be enough to make him understand. He blinks, confused for a second, and then his eyes light up, and he smiles, squeezes you once as though in reassurance. Slowly, he leans in, presses his lips against yours, gives you a slow, tender kiss that leaves you breathless, aching for him in more ways than one.
He pulls away after a second, and you can’t help but whine at the loss of the feeling. You feel your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment, and you open your mouth, ready to utter an apology, but he shakes his head, places a finger against your lips, stops the words from spilling.
With a smile, he leans back against the plush seat, lets the quiet wash over you for a moment. He tilts his head to the side, watches you expectantly, as if he’s curious to see what you’ll do, and you blink at him, more confused than ever.
It takes a moment for everything to sink in, and you only give him a look of uncertainty, turning your head to look around you once more. You chew your lip between your teeth, watch as the same scene unfolds before your eyes. Here, they play another round of cards, take a sip of their drinks, trapped in the bubble of their making, away from the two of you, from the rest of the world.
“Relax, angel,” Ran says, whispers the words quietly beside you. Gently, he turns your head, makes you look at him again. You catch the playful smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth, the glimmer in his eyes. 
He leans in, brushes his lips against yours, and you can’t help the way you melt beneath him, closing your eyes and wishing he’d kiss you more. He pulls back before you could kiss him back, and you look at him with betrayal, pouting. His smile widens once more, and his voice grows even more quiet as he continues. “I told you before, didn’t I? It doesn’t matter.”
A moment silence settles between you, and Ran hums under his breath, lost in his thoughts. Gently, he traces his thumb against your lower lip, frees it from your teeth, watches the motion with his eyes, dark and intense, his expression opaque, unreadable.
Your breath stills, catches in your throat. He smiles, pats your cheek gently, tears his attention away from you long enough to glance around him. “Unless…” he continues, trails off just as quickly, pauses for dramatic effect. He leans in, whispers the words against your ear like he’s sharing a secret—something only you’re allowed to know. “There’s something you’re not telling me?”
You blink at him, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. It takes a moment for his meaning to sink in and then you’re shaking your head from side to side, quick and sudden, desperate to convince him of the truth. He laughs, leans back against his seat, crossing his arms behind his neck. “No?”
You shake your head again in response, and he hums under his breath, stares at you for the longest time. You can’t stop the whimper that spills out of your lips, can’t help the way you squirm, uncomfortable by the weight of his stare, the intensity of his gaze.
From the corners of your eyes, you see his companion staring at you, their heads turned to your direction, curious, intrigued. You’ve caught their attention now, and you duck your head, lower your gaze, feeling suddenly ashamed.
But Ran remains unfazed. He tilts your chin up, forces you to meet his eyes. He gives you an approving smile, and before long he’s placing a hand on the back of your head, pulling you close. 
“Good,” he says quietly. He stares at your lips for the longest time, as if mesmerized, and you swallow the lump that forms in your throat, suddenly nervous. The corners of his lips twitch, as if in amusement, and he leans closer. His breath is warm against your skin, your lips, and you feel your heart skip a beat, wild and frenzied. “You know I’d hate to share you with anyone else.”
And then he’s pulling you in for another kiss, and it’s different this time: raw, hungry. He takes your lip between his teeth, nibbles playfully, and you wrap your arms around his neck, closing your eyes and easily melting into the kiss. You feel him smile against you, and then, without warning, he sinks his teeth into your lower lip, bites hard enough to draw blood.
A startled gasp tears out of your throat, and he takes his chance, slides his tongue inside your mouth, tastes every inch of you. He tugs at your hair, angles your head so he’s kissing you deeper, and everything’s quick to melt away. Your heart stops, your head spins, and for a moment, there’s only a singular thought in your head: an echo of his name, bounces around in your skull—the only thing you’ve left.
You thread your fingers through his hair, tug a little harshly, desperate for more, and he pulls away, huffs out a breath, latches your lips on your neck, leaves open-mouthed kisses all over your skin. Your head lists to one side, and his name falls out of your lips, pathetic, desperate.
He shifts a little in his seat, shifts you along with him, drags your hips forward so your clothed cunt grinds against his thigh, and it’s unexpectedly delicious, enough that you can’t stop the moan that tears out of your throat, loud and wanton. You should be ashamed, you think, but every thought is lost in the fog of your mind, every rationality disappearing beneath the desire that clouds your senses.
He rests his fingers on your ass, digs his fingers against your skin, harsh enough to leave his mark. He leans in, captures your lips in another kiss, swallows every sound that spills out of you.
You open your mouth, try to say his name again, uncertain what you even want from him, but it comes out garbled, sticky. He wraps his tongue around yours, and it feels lewd, sounds lewd that you can’t think clearly. 
You feel his hand running all over your body, drags his fingers down your dress, rests them in between your thighs. He’s still sucking on your tongue, and the sound of it is wanton in the quiet, disgraceful, but you’re too far gone to care. He hikes your dress up, pulls away from you long enough to take a peek. 
He smiles, runs his tongue along his teeth. “And you’ve even worn my favorite lingerie for me, haven’t you?” He brushes his lips against your ear, runs his tongue along your earlobe, traces it gently. “You minx.”
You can’t stop yourself from shivering. You open your mouth, try to say something and you hate the way your voice cracks, the way you can’t help but stutter, nervous. “O-only for you, Ran.”
He squeezes a handful of your ass, and you bite your lip, refuses to let another moan escape you. He hums under his breath, pleased. “Mm. Aren’t I a lucky man, then?”
You open your mouth again, try to form another response, but the words die on your tongue. You don’t have enough time to think before you’re hearing the sudden screech of the table, and you turn your head, try to look, curious. Ran reaches out to cup your cheek, keeps you in place. When you meet his eyes with furrowed eyebrows, he shakes his head, smiles at you in response. 
You can’t tell what’s going on, but you can’t help but want to know, wishing so badly you can see. But Ran doesn’t let you, and so you keep your ears peeled and listen closely, trying to gather as much answer as you can in tidbits, pieces of information they allow you to hear.
You catch sight of a box of cigarettes, thrown carelessly in Ran’s direction. He catches it mid-air, deft fingers wrapping around the box, then shoving it in the pockets of his coat. When he catches your eyes, he gives you a conspiratorial wink.
“Don’t forget about the meeting tonight,” one of his companions calls, and you know them well enough to recognize them at least by their voices. This one is unmistakably Rindo’s—you know that much, and inwardly, you pat your cheek, congratulate yourself.
Ran only laughs in response, reaches out to twirl another lock of your hair around his finger, though his attention isn’t anywhere on you. There’s a smile on his lips when he speaks, a playfulness in his words that make you a little mortified, especially as soon as you hear his next words. “Mm. Enjoy the show?” 
Rindo only gives a noncommittal hum under his breath, and it’s all the response he gives before he’s leaving, his footsteps echoing quietly on the marble tiles. He shuts the door quietly behind him, and once again, the two of you are left alone, away from prying eyes, hidden from the rest of the world. 
Ran turns to face you, and you feel almost embarrassed having his undivided attention on you. There’s a part of you that wants to hide, shy away until you can no longer see him. But he doesn’t let you. He tilts your chin up, forces you to look at him. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, refuses to let you look away again. He licks his lips, smiles. In the dim light of the room, his eyes are sharper somehow, his smile a little more wolfish, hungry. 
“Now,” he begins, and something in his voice makes your knees weak, your heart stop. You can’t fight the sudden shiver that runs down your spine, and he smiles a little wider, runs his tongue along his lower lip once more in anticipation. “Where were we?”
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pawprinterfanfic · a day ago
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All That Remains - chapter 13 preview
Happy Day 5 of @jatp-sci-fi-week!!
What better way to celebrate a Sci-Fi Media AU of JATP than with my beloved not-ghosts in space?
It’s been a while since I’ve done anything new with space boys (Willie and Alex from my fic titled All That Remains for those of you who are new). They’ve been on my mind recently (thank you Ryn), so I dug up the opening scene of chapter 13! This was written back in March and WOW do I ever miss them!!! It was fun to make a quick return to this doc.
Click below to read this tiny crumb of space boys! I hope you enjoy!
ALL THAT REMAINS, CHAPTER XIII: CALLIOPE
(you can read chapters 1-12 of “all that remains” on ao3!)
“I can’t believe you.”
“Me? What about you!”
“I’m not the one who took a wrong turn.”
“I’m not the one who crashed the speeder bike!”
“You are though because, look behind you, dude! You see the smoke? Crashed. Wrecked. Dusted. Kicked the bucket. I don’t know how to tell you this, but your bike is toast.”
“Yours is too! You crashed first!” A pause, then— “You started it!”
Alexander squeezed his eyes together and blew out a measured breath.
This was going to be a long day.
“Children,” he called out without turning around, “let’s all calm down.”
That only spurred his friends on more. Shoes scuffed against dirt. Dust was kicked up. A pebble hit the back of Alexander’s legs. Luke’s laugh was loud and giddy. Bobby’s cry was disgusted.
“I swear to all things good,” Bobby snapped, “get your finger out of my ear, Luke, or I will—”
Alexander rubbed his forehead. “And let’s keep our hands and feet to ourselves, yeah? Force, you two…”
Not even a second later, Luke’s arm was around Alexander’s shoulder, pulling him down to his height and jostling him out of pure joy.
“Aw, someone’s grumpy,” Luke teased. He glanced behind Alexander’s head at Bobby and smiled. “What do you think? He woke up on the wrong side of the bed?”
“We didn’t have beds last night,” Bobby pointed out dryly. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards, as if he was fighting a smile. “Plus, it’s more likely that something pooped in his rations to put him in this bad of a mood.”
“Oh, you’re so right,” Luke agreed. “Alex, you—”
Alexander shoved Luke’s arm off him and glared.
“Okay, first of all; it is Alexander. Alexander. It’s a full word, dude. And I’m not in a bad mood. I’m stressed. You’ve heard of that, right? Stress? Because we should all be feeling it right now.”
It was true. Alexander felt like he was suffocating in it. There was this weight pressing in on him from all sides — a weight that intensified with the knowledge that they were on a mission and already messing it up.
“Okay, we crashed the speeder bikes. Not a great start to the day.” He crossed his arms and blew out a breath. “I just… it’s our first mission alone — the three of us together. We need to make a good impression and I just— I want to take it seriously, and—“
“Hey,” Luke said quickly. His voice had softened. The mirth on his expression had washed away completely, leaving him more somber than Alexander could recall. “I’m just teasing. I’m a jerk. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, Luke’s a jerk.”
Luke ignored him.
“We are taking this seriously though,” he assured him. “This is important. The village is missing their food supply, and Palabee said—“
“Palabee gave us a boring job,” Bobby complained. “When you asked me to come to this planet with you, I wasn’t expecting to go on scavenger hunts for missing food. You know what? It’s probably an animal. That’s it. Once we get to the village, you’ll see! It’ll be—“
Bobby continued to talk. 
Luke leaned closer to Alexander’s ear. “Man,” he breathed, “he’s passionate, huh?”
Alexander wrinkled his nose and glanced down at Luke. “You are too.”
“Like I’d forget that. Palabee only likes to remind me every day.”
Alexander snorted. He said it as a joke, but it was true. Everyone pointed out Luke’s passion ever since they were kids.
There were still kids, really, but it was different now. They were Padawans. They were leading armies.
They weren’t the same kids they once were.
“I’m sorry,” Luke added quickly, “about your name. I forgot you don’t like the nickname.”
Alexander’s lips pressed tightly together. His fingers brushed against the fabric of his cloak, the path of his fingers familiar and worn.
“I don’t,” he repeated. “I just… Names are important. They have meaning. You and Bobby like your nicknames, but I… I like my name. My full name. It reminds me of my parents. Or… who I imagine my parents to be.” His expression remained stiff. Always hiding, always running. “Ever do that? Try to imagine what your parents were like? Wonder if they would’ve been good parents?”
Luke was silent for a long moment. Bobby must’ve heard Alexander’s question because he had fallen silent too.
“When I think of home,” Luke said slowly, “I don’t think of who my mother and father might’ve been. I think of you guys.”
Alexander clung to his words. Examined them. Pulled them apart and put them back together again.
Home.
Home with these two guys — these two guys he had known his whole life — these two guys that he cared about.
Alexander glanced from Luke to Bobby.
Yeah. It was a good thought.
“So,” Luke began, “listen, Alexander—”
//
“So,” Luke began, “listen, Alexander—”
“It’s Alex now,” Alex corrected quickly.
They had been here before.
Different planet, different friends, different life — same boy though. 
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mando-forgive-me · 9 hours ago
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Somno
Kinktober
Somnophilia with Frankie Morales
Requested by @fan-of-encouragement​​
Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader
Wordcount: 2.8k
Tags: PLEASE READ, This fic involves the Reader expressing her desire for, and Frankie acting on, Somnophilia, Sleep play, Explicit consent, but also some dub/con vibes, so a little CNC, just be advised, Fingering, Oral sex (female receiving), PiV (wrap it before you tap it please), Established relationship, Size kink, Please let me know if I forgot anything
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It’s past 2am when Frankie finally makes it home. He moves through the house in a weary daze, shrugging off layers as he goes. His work boots go first, set carefully by the door, then his hat, revealing mussed curls, and his jacket. He pads through the silent house and is already calling out to you quietly as he pushes the bedroom door open.
“Baby?”
You don’t respond. He’d been hoping to catch you before you went to bed after a week of working late but you keep missing each other. It seems strange to miss you so much when you’re right there in your shared bed but when Frankie looks down at your sleeping form, dressed only in one of his old t-shirts, it makes him long for more. More conversation, more closeness, more… you. 
As if sensing his presence you roll over, the hem of his worn cotton shirt riding up to expose the curve of one cheek. “Oh, that’s just not fair,” Frankie mutters beneath his breath as he strips the rest of the way and pulls on a pair of grey sweats. He slips beneath the flannel sheets, tugging them up to cover the two of you before gathering your sleeping form in his arms. You murmur something insensible and wiggle closer, your back flush with his broad chest, his warm breath fanning past your ear.
It usually takes him longer to switch his mind off, even after putting in a hard day’s work but something about coming home to you already warm and pliant with sleep relaxes him. His breathing begins to even out, his tense muscles easing, and he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, murmuring a quiet “good night, cariño.”
Though it doesn’t wake you, that affectionate gesture is enough to penetrate your sleeping mind. You shift in his hold, pressing your ass into him, whimpering softly as you seem to seek him out, needing more contact, more friction, more… him. Frankie bites his lip and forces himself to breathe slowly, his pulse racing as you push sleepily against him.
When you keep writhing, he lays a hand on your side to steady you- but his fingertips brush the skin beneath your shirt and make you whine. Frankie curses himself for the way he hungers for you, his cock twitching in interest even as he tries to relax.
You’re so innocent, so trusting and vulnerable, reaching for him even across the gulf of sleep. 
He wants you so badly. 
He hooks his chin over your shoulder as his hand moves up, arguing with himself all the while, until he’s cupping your breast. He swipes a lazy thumb over your peak and feels your nipple stiffen beneath his hand. As if you sense what he’s doing, you let out a low, wistful moan and arch into his touch, your eyes still closed even as you grind your ass against him, the shirt riding even higher with your movements.
“Oh, you’re killin’ me, baby.” He closes his eyes. As much as he doesn’t want to violate your boundaries, his cock is aching and swollen against the exposed cleft of your ass. It would be so, so easy to reach down to line himself up with your dripping pussy, his head catching at your seam so he can just push-
Frankie groans. This is so wrong. 
He needs to wake you up before this goes any further. He calls your name softly until you stir. 
“Hmm?” Your voice is slurred and you half turn, blinking sleepily up at him. “Frankie, ‘s’that you?”
“I hope you didn’t think it was someone else, baby,” he teases gently. There’s no heat to it and he kisses you, his plush lips light against yours, undemanding. “I wasn’t planning on waking you up, but…” He rolls his hips gently, bringing your attention back to his waiting cock. “You seemed to be enjoying the attention,” he says half-apologetically. 
“Oh so that wasn’t a dream,” you mumble happily. “‘S okay, it’s a nice way to wake up.” You slip your hand beneath his waistband, your lips curving into a pleased smirk when your fingers close around his hot girth, already swollen and eager for you. Frankie rolls his hips, grinding himself against your palm, a pleading whine on his lips. “Shh, I’ve got you.”
You spread the pearly bead of precome leaking from his tip over him to ease your grip. You stroke his length slowly, giving him a few lazy pumps while he tips his head back and groans, then ease his sweatpants down and notch him at your entrance. You’re already wet and ready for him, your body responding to him before you’d even woken up. He cups your face and pushes into you, sinking into your velvet heat with a wet, pulsing stretch that has both of you gasping, mouths open, foreheads pressed together in the dark.
It’s a slow, easy fuck, all rustling sheets and relaxed, sleepy moans. It doesn’t take long before you’re both sated and sleepy once more.
Frankie’s arms surround you and you sink back towards sleep. “Next time you don’t have to wake me up, you know,” you offer in a yawn.
Frankie, startled, feels his eyebrows lift in surprise. “Is that… something you’d want?” He can’t count the number of times he’s come home to find you already asleep- your schedules don’t always mesh and while he’s always content just to hold you, he does sometimes go to sleep hard and wanting. And that’s not even taking into account the illicit thrill, the sheer wrongness of taking you while you sleep. The idea that you’d trust him that much, want something so… taboo- it takes his breath away.
“Mmhm,” you nod, your head tucked into the round of  his shoulder. Your limbs are slack once more and you feel yourself drifting back to sleep, warm and safe in his arms, your cheek pillowed on his bicep. “I think it’s hot. I wonder how far you could get before you woke me up, and I love the idea of waking up with you already inside me.”
A shudder of lust passes through Frankie even as sleep drags him down, down, down. In the morning, he’ll ask you again- to be sure this wasn’t just a dream. 
It wasn’t.
_____
The next time Frankie comes home to find you already asleep, you’re passed out in your silkiest lingerie, the moonlight limning every curve and line of you in silver. You’re so beautiful, so tranquil, that he almost doesn’t reach for you. The image of a fairy tale princess- how can he disturb you?
And yet… he remembers that hint of longing in your voice as you’d suggested the idea. You want this- to feel him inside you, the line between sleep and waking blurred, your body already heated and wanton before you’re fully aware. And then there’s that challenge…
I wonder how far you could get before you woke me up…
Fuck it. 
He considers how best to approach this. You’re lying curled up on your side, facing him, not exactly accessible. Climbing gingerly onto the bed, Frankie rolls you onto your back in one smooth motion, his hand cradling the back of your neck. You sprawl against the pillows and he waits a beat to see if you’ll wake. You shift a little, rub your cheek against the pillow, but relax once more.
Once you’re settled, Frankie reaches down to part your thighs. Your legs fall open so readily he glances up, expecting to see you awake and grinning, but your face is still veiled and distant with sleep. He runs his palm up your inner thigh until he can feel the heat of your sex. His finger glides up the crotch of your silky panties as light as a breath. The thin fabric is no barrier at all and he has to stifle a groan at the feeling of your slick folds parting for him like this. 
He dips his fingers beneath your underwear, stroking patient, hypnotic circles as he pushes deeper, his index finger just delving into your seam. The more he touches you the slicker you become, until he’s able to work two, then three thick fingers into your fluttering hole. Even in sleep, your cunt welcomes him, your walls clenching around his fingers, swallowing him greedily. Your need for him is instinctual, constant, even now, and the thought awakens some primal need to claim you, to cover your sleeping form with his and mark you as his own. 
Frankie never thought he would get even this far and he takes a moment to appreciate the scene. Your lips are parted slightly- not quite smiling, but as if you’re in the throes of a particularly luscious dream. He wants to kiss you, to watch your eyes flutter open while his fingers move and curl inside you, caressing that ridged spot deep inside that makes you tense and shudder- but no. Not yet. 
He withdraws his fingers slowly, taking a moment to lick his honey fingers before moving to lay between your thighs. He has to be quiet, methodical, considering where to rest his weight so the mattress won’t tip, startling you into sudden wakefulness. He takes his time, slotting himself between your legs and, when he’s sure you’re deeply asleep, he pushes your panties to the side and spreads you open.
His nose close enough to bump against your clit, Frankie takes a moment to inhale the scent of you, your sweet, familiar tang rising and making his mouth water. He lowers his mouth until his lips are just pressing into your pretty pussy. He gives you the softest of kitten licks, slow and easy, and even that is enough to elicit a sigh from your sleeping lips. When you don’t stir beyond that, he pushes his luck. 
His mouth descends on you, greedy and wanting. Frankie loves eating you out, loves the feeling of your hands tugging at his hair, your thighs clamping around his ears. This time though…  this time is different. 
Your body is slack and pliant under him, and he takes his time, slipping the tip of his tongue into every dip and hollow, pressing the flat of it to your clit and tracing meaningless patterns that make you clench and twitch. He suckles at your clit, fucks you with his tongue, and pushes his fingers deep inside you once more. 
His chin is slick with you, his plush lips coated with your arousal and his jaw tiring but he doesn’t stop until you tense, your body going tight and curved as a bowstring for a moment before you wake with a start, your release already sweeping over you and Frankie’s name torn from your lips. 
“That’s it,” he urges, talking you through it. “You were so good for me. Did you like that? Did you like waking up with my tongue in your pretty pussy, sweet thing?” 
It takes you a while to get your bearings, to sort through the tangle of sleep and dreams and waking life, all shot through with the warm pleasure of Frankie’s attentions. When you can speak once more you assure him that yes, you liked it very much, licking the taste of yourself from his mouth before returning the favor.
_____
The third time Frankie comes home to you already stretched out and sleeping, he offers a silent prayer of thanks that you’d already expressed a desire for him to fuck you. You’re sprawled out, silvered in the pale moonlight, stark naked against dark flannel sheets. It’s like you’ve planned this- flat on your back, your bare tits exposed, you’re a silent siren calling him to your shores. 
He goes willingly.
This time you don’t so much as stir, too deeply asleep to even register his presence. Even when Frankie tests you by calling out your name you lie still, only the slow rising and falling of your chest indicating that you’re more than a perfect statue laid out for him to admire. 
Frankie strips, silent and quick, before climbing on top of you. You’re spread out beneath him, open and ready. He kisses your neck, licks and sucks and bites at your breasts, all while reaching down to delve into your already dripping seam. 
“You’re so gorgeous like this,” he says in a low, measured rumble close to your ear. “Did you fall asleep hoping I’d come home and fuck you like this? I bet you did, you sweet, filthy thing.”
He rubs the thick, swollen head of his cock along your entrance, nudging at your clit and teasing your slit but slipping up at the last moment, rutting against your folds. You squirm and mewl something incoherent, begging for more even through the haze of sleep.
“Shh, I’ve got you, baby,” Frankie soothes. “You want this cock?” He pushes himself slowly inside you, stopping when you close around his tip and having to bite down on his lip to stay quiet. “So fucking tight,” he breathes. “You sure you want this? Well. I know I do.” 
Without waiting for an answer he knows isn’t coming, Frankie buries himself to the hilt, your walls giving way to his cock as he fucks you deep and dragging, every thrust filling you almost to the point of pain.
It’s this sensation that finally rouses you, bleary and panting, your eyes fluttering open even as the walls of your cunt clench and flutter around Frankie’s cock. “Frankie?”
“Morning sleepyhead,” he chuckles. “Such a good girl, letting me fuck her like this. Does it feel good, being fucked awake on my cock?” 
“Ngh,” you respond eloquently. It’s so much, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his thick cock punching deeper inside you, the sweet filth falling from his lips trailing you from dream to waking world in a blur.
“Oh, you can do better than that,” he taunts. 
You’re not sure you can. He’s tilted his hips, adjusted his weight so that every thrust has you seeing stars. He’s hitting something deep and devastating inside you and your thoughts are tangled kite strings slipping through your grasp, drifting away before you can fully reach them.
“Frankie,” you manage on a gasp, drawing another chuckle from him. 
“There’s my girl,” he hums. “You like waking up to me fucking you as much as you’d thought?”
“God, yes,” you moan. And fuck, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced, like your body had run away without you, only for you to wake up filled and wanting and already riding the edge of bliss. More awake now, you meet Frankie thrust for thrust, bury your hands in his curling hair, cling to his broad shoulders- anything to drive you closer, push him farther. “Don’t stop, please.”
As if he would ever leave you wanting. 
Frankie rubs his cheek against yours, his whiskers rasping gingerly over your sensitive skin, batting his head against you like an affectionate, overgrown cat. “Hush. I’ve got you.” 
He does. You’re surrounded by him, engulfed, your own small body comfortably pinned beneath his. Frankie’s hand spans your jaw, holding your face still so he can kiss you as deeply as he fucks you, his tongue and cock plundering your willing holes with abandon. It’s filthy and rough and you fucking love it, a string of helpless moans and cries falling from your lips as you cant your hips and chant his name. When your release slams into you, it’s like nothing you’ve felt before- deep and rolling, you buck and quiver beneath Frankie, your pleasure rolling through you in waves. You drag him down with you, practically strangling his cock as you both come- hard. 
By the time you float back to your senses, Frankie is stretched out beside you, catching his own breath. You reach for him, laying a palm on his cheek. You feel rather than see his smile as he turns his face, pressing a kiss into your palm before pulling you into an embrace. 
When you drift off, it’s with Frankie’s arms wrapped around you, his soft belly pressed against yours, the steady drumbeat of his heart a comforting, familiar constant in your ear. The last thing you hear before succumbing to sleep is him whispering “goodnight, Bella Durmiente.”
Goodnight, Sleeping Beauty.
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